#poly! dream team x reader
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sunshine-on-marz · 2 years ago
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Poly!Dteam x Reader
“Welcome to the stream!”
In which: the dteam reveals the relationship on stream
Tw: a little bit of hate and anxiety
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“Ok” Clay sat down on the couch, i between you and sapnap, with George on your left. (Like this | | | |) George adjusted the camera to fit all four of you. Dream leaned over to kiss his cheek and then grabbed you and sap’s hands. You were clearly nervous and Sapnap had picked up on it. He stood up and moved to crouch in front of you. “Baby, you know it’s all gonna be ok, right?” You looked at him and nodded but it was clear you were unsure. He took your hand in his own. “It’s gonna be ok, and even if the whole world explodes because of this stream, we’ll still love you” you giggled a bit at his dramatics and nodded again, but without lying this time. He smiled and ruffled your hair a bit before sitting back down. After that Dream looked at the three of you and nodded before hitting «go live». The «starting soon» screen was already up and you guys sat and watched chat for about 45 seconds while the viewer count jumped from 0 to 100 to 1k to 10k to 30k. All four of you had tweeted about the stream and posted on your instagram stories and said that the stream was important. At 45k viewers Dream turned on facecam. “Hi guys” Dream started and chat was going insane. “Alright guys, let’s just get this over with, yea?” All of you looked at one another and Sapnap decided to just say it. “We’re dating. All of us.” It felt like the whole world went quiet for a moment, but then you saw chat. There was so much support. There was hate here and there but the mods caught most of it before you saw it. Dream was already putting up a picture of the Google page on poly relationships on screen and George was holding your hand extremely tight. You looked to him and he seemed starry eyed while looking from you Dream and sap to chat then back. You pulled his hand to your lips and he countered by pulling you into a kiss. Chat goes even crazier, saying ‘CLIP THAT’ and ‘OMG’ and other things. You pulled away and leaned onto Dreams shoulder. You looked to Sap and he smiled at you. After chat cooled off a bit (and ‘they’re dating?!’ was trending in n twitter) the four of you played a few rounds of Jackbox on stream. Unbeknownst to you Sapnap had banned a handful of people for being especially rude to you but he was just happy knowing that you wouldn’t see the chats. After about an hour of Jackbox you guys did a small QnA, answering questions like ‘when did you start dating’ and ‘what’s your favorite thing about the others’ from chat then ended stream. It was a very successful day.
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Did I spend 3 hours on this. Yes, yes I did.
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pray4saint · 1 year ago
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that’d be cool!
the first time they watched her
masterlist & descrip. tv-ma. 15+. implied smut. showgirl!reader. poly!snf. link to original ask & secondary ask. also original poly!snf + showgirl!reader thirst. use of cc's real names. voice/accent kink. 0.9k words.
a/n. euehheheheh
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the lounge was dark, and you could feel all eyes on you and the other showgirls out with you. most of the men around the room were downing alcohol like it was nothing, laughing and jeering and hollering at the stage. but there were two sets of eyes that felt as if they burned into your skin. they were hard to see, but once you'd looked in their direction, their gaze hardened. every opportunity you got in your routine to look at them you took and you discerned three things. one, they really liked what they were seeing, because there wasn't a second you felt their eyes move off you. two, they were doing business. you could see their mouths moving, clear they were talking to each other, and the drinks between them, you'd seen the scene plenty of times, this was business. third, they were fine. the taller of the two was lankier, paler and wore a grin that was to die for. the other, slightly shorter, donned a tuft of brown hair on his face, and both just looked good. even from afar, you could just tell, they were fine. then you looked back and they were talking to the lounge's owner, and then coming back around again, they were gone.
rather soon, the show was over and your group shuffled backstage, and you couldn't help but wish they'd stuck around.
pushing the door to your dressing room open while your head hung low to scratch at your neck, you didn't hear how the men standing not six feet from you adjusted in their respective spots. your head did snap up when you heard someone clear there throat, and then there they were. in front of you, in your dressing room. ”miss y/l/n?” his accent surprised you and it took you a minute to look down at his outstretched hand and place yours in his. ”uhm, hello.” he nodded to you and you returned it before turning your head to the man sat on your sofa and nodding to him. ”is there something i can do for you gentlemen?” you say, pulling your hand away from the brit's. now, you can see them closer, and you were right. you could see the dark brown of the brit's eyes and how his lips quirked up at your polite behaviour. the brit glanced over to the other man and your eyes followed his. finally, the man on the sofa speaks up after sucking in a deep breath. ”well, sweetheart first of all we wanted to congratulate you on that performance you gave.” gently, both the men clapped and you smiled, partially at the compliment and partially at his southern accent followed by a minuscule curtsy. ”oh! thank you.”
”and second, wanted to know if we could perhaps, escort you home?” your brows raised at the question. ”oh, i don't know about that,” you pause, stepping farther into the room to get to your vanity, now both the boys behind you but still to either side of you. ”i've still got to change and get all this makeup off, and i wouldn't want you two to have to wait around for little old me. also i really don't know who either of you gentlemen are.” you reached for the drawer off to the side before your wrist was reached for. the fingers on your hand were long, and pale, understood to be brit. ”george davidson.” slowly, you nod, and then you can feel the breath of the southern man behind you. your head whips around to see him grinning at you. ”armstrong. nick armstrong.” the close sentences with their individual accents make your breath hitch at how it started to make you a little dizzy. george releases your hand, pulling his hand back into the pocket of his slacks. shaking it off quickly, you turn around. ”and what are you doing here? never seen either of you boys around.”
again, george is the first to speak. ”international business is all.” he smiles and you look at him in the mirror, smiling right back before shifting your gaze against the glance. ”what about you mr. armstrong?” he gives a quick scratch to the underside of his beard before responding. ”making deals with the english.” his words make you laugh a little bit while george rolls his eyes.
quickly, you turn around, and open your arms wide to almost usher them out although it doesn't really work. ”well, as great as it's been to talk to you gentlemen, you really should get going, don't wanna keep you two waiting.” at your words, the two men smirk. ”listen, love,” the petname makes you a little dizzy and you can't help the way it warms your sex. it just sounded so good coming from his mouth. he hooks his finger under your chin, turning your face so you're looking up at him. ”i'm sure you can figure out a way to repay us for having to wait.” and there's that stupid grin of his again. nick moves to stand behind you, hands moving to your waist. oh you could most definitely think of a way to repay them.
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pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.
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soaps-mohawk · 10 months ago
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 1 - The Introduction
Summary: Captain Price has been fighting the requests to add an omega to his team until those requests become commands. You find yourself traveling half a world away to join a pack of highly trained soldiers to balance out their dynamic. Not all of them are quite so happy about your arrival, but you're a good omega who does as you're told.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, brief moments of panic on the reader's side, scenting, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.
Author's Note: I couldn't help it and I've found myself falling into the Call of Duty brainrot once again so here I am to bless you with some poly 141 a/b/o goodness. It's just part 1, I promise things will get better as the story goes along.
MASTERLIST | Next ->
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“I don’t like this.” 
“Believe me, John, I know. But the higher ups are putting a lot of pressure on us with this initiative and I’ve pushed back as much as I can. They’re convinced it will be good for morale and team dynamics.” 
He wants to protest, but he’s been protesting this idea for three months. “What more can you tell me about her?” 
“Not much that isn’t already in her file.” Her tone is not lost on him. She can, but that’s not a conversation to be held over the phone. “She’s quiet and polite, a bit jumpy but she relaxes once she gets to know you. Remember, I picked her out myself.” 
That doesn’t make him feel any better.
He flips through the file again after he hangs up with Laswell. He almost has it memorized by now, having looked through time and time again since the letter was dropped on his desk three months ago. 
He stares at the photo, the headshot taken by the institute in her file. She’s cute, as most omegas are. American, but she had grown up on military bases. At least this world wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to her. He grimaces as he looks over her DOB below the photo. She’s young, younger than he would have liked, but at least she was old enough to drink. 
He sighs through his nose as he flips through her records. She’s been in the institute for nearly ten years, likely sent as soon as she presented. He flips through page after page of test results, notes from her instructors, personality and temperament analysis, essays and essays worth of information written on her and also by her. He didn’t care so much about what her instructors thought, he was more interested in her. 
“Christ.” He breathes as he pauses on the page with her statistics, rubbing his eyes. The file has everything in it, down to heat tracking and her early signs it was starting. 
As if he doesn’t have enough to worry about, now he’s going to have an omega under his care. 
He hasn’t considered taking an omega in well over a decade. Back when he had been young and reckless, he had once considered starting his own pack, but then his career in the military began to take off and he let that dream go. It became too dangerous, and he had seen many times what happened to omegas who were left behind during deployments for too long. 
His team didn’t need an omega. He had briefly considered it in the beginning as they adjusted to the new dynamics, but he knew it was too dangerous and their schedules were far too unpredictable for the sort of stability omegas needed. He had fought time and time again against the push to add an omega to the team. They had settled into their roles easily, and operated perfectly fine with the missing dynamic. 
Then the Omega Initiative was born and he found himself with no grounds to refuse anymore. Task Force 141 was getting an omega whether they wanted one or not. 
He can’t help the tickle in the back of his mind that something else might be going on. He flips back to the first page, staring at the omega’s photo. They’d be here in a week. She’d be flying with Laswell to London where she’d be given a few days to adjust before they’d fly in here and she’ll be left with her new pack. 
Price closes the file, leaning back in his chair. He has a lot to do in the next week. 
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You stare down at the files laid out on the table. Four of them, hardly more than a single page each, most of which was blacked out. They’re all older than you, their birth years at least visible to you. Most of the things on the file you don’t understand, and you weren't even sure how tall they were since you can’t convert meters to feet in your head. 
You’re tired and on edge, nervous about tomorrow when you'd meet your new pack. You sit back in your seat, letting out a long breath. 
“I know.” Station Chief Laswell, Kate as you had been told to call her, takes the seat across from you. “You’re going to have to get used to hearing the word classified. What they tell you about themselves is, of course, up to them, but the things they do, the places they go, even with your security clearance as high as it is, that will all still be-” 
“Classified?” You finish for her. 
Kate smiles. “Exactly. It’s mostly for your safety. The less you know...” 
The less there is to make you a target. 
You’d been given that speech before you left D.C. You’d been given a lot of briefings, as Kate had called them, since you had been pulled into the director’s office at The Institute and told to pack your bag. You remembered Kate and the interview you had done a few days prior. It hadn’t been any different than the other interviews you’d done before, except that you were chosen this time. 
What had come after was three months of intense briefings and training, for what, you hadn’t really known at the time. They had told you little, at least until last week when Kate pulled you into her office and told you what was happening and why it was happening and where you were going. 
“You don’t have anything to worry about, though.” Kate continues, something you’ve been told over and over again during your briefings. “They’re all good men. John and I know each other well. I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you could handle them.” 
You continue to stare at the files. Two alphas, two betas. It wasn’t an unusual pack, evenly balanced, except for the missing omega. If the situation were different they may have elected to have two omegas to keep the even balance. This wasn’t a normal situation, though. This was a military pack, special forces at that. It wasn’t unusual for packs to form on bases, especially those stationed together for long periods of time. Alphas and betas united together with one purpose, one collective goal. 
That was why so many alphas were drawn to the military. 
That, and the excuse for violence. 
Omegas weren’t allowed to enlist, omegas weren’t allowed to hold many jobs at all. It was usually only in special circumstances, and even then, they were more likely to be assigned into a pack than be allowed to work and care for themselves. In a lot of ways you were lucky. You wouldn’t have to fight to find a pack, fight to find a match, fight for one of the few decent alphas left in the world. Your road had been chosen for you as soon as you presented. 
In a lot of ways, though, things were worse for you. 
“How do you feel?” Kate asks, looking you over. You’ve grown to like the beta Station Chief in the weeks you’ve spent together. 
“Tired.” You run a hand across your face. 
“The time difference will do that to you.” Kate says, giving you a sympathetic look. “Not to mention everything else.” Kate stands, stacking the files and pushing them to the center of the table. “I have a couple more errands to run, so get some rest. I’ll pick us up some dinner on the way back.” 
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You look nervous. 
He can’t blame you. He’d felt a bit of a nervous twist to his stomach this morning as he’d finished ensuring everything was in place. He doesn’t often get nervous anymore, years and years of experience giving him the ability to expect anything and react accordingly. 
This is different, though. This isn’t a soldier he’s greeting, this is an omega. 
His omega. 
As Pack Alpha he had more of a claim to you than anyone else. It was his mark you’d wear, his scent that everyone would notice first. It was his duty to protect you, to ensure you have everything you need. You’re not another member of his team, you’re not even a soldier. You’re just a poor civilian that’s been thrust into this world of danger and secrecy. 
“Captain Price.” Laswell greets him, shaking his hand. 
He greets her back, but he can’t help his gaze as it flickers to the omega. You’re small, as expected of an omega. Your sweatshirt hides most of your curves, but your jeans hug your full thighs. Most omegas are small and soft, designed to be held and healthy enough to bear children when cared for correctly. 
He doesn’t even want to think about that. 
Laswell introduces you, your feet shuffling a bit as you step forward toward him. Coming from an institute, you likely hadn’t had much contact with alphas before now. You try to stand taller, look braver as you stand before him, but he can smell the tangy edge of anxiety surrounding your scent. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say, shaking his hand. It’s small and warm in his, your skin soft and slightly clammy. 
“The pleasure is mine.” He says, releasing your hand. 
You let it drop to your side, pulling your sleeve down over your fingers. You shift on your feet, your body language betraying your nervousness. Hunched shoulders, fingers tugging your sleeves over your hands, shifting your weight foot to foot as if you might take off running at a moment’s notice. Your eyes dart across the airfield taking in the movement around them. You’re on edge, alert, and likely a little overwhelmed. 
“I’ll show you around and let you get settled.” He says, his eyes shifting to Laswell. “You and I have some things to discuss.” 
You follow behind him with Laswell as he leads you towards the building that served as the 141’s home base. He points out different places you might find yourself visiting. The gym, the rec area, the mess hall, and finally their barracks. He leads you down the hallway where their rooms were located, pointing out each door before he gets to yours, sandwiched between his own and Gaz’s, with Soap and Ghost on the other side. 
He opens the door, letting you enter. He stays in the doorway, letting you explore the small space. Your bags had been brought in, the faint hint of the beta Corporal that had brought them in still lingering in the air. There’s four shirts folded neatly on the desk, one from each of them that they’d slept in for the last couple days to give you a chance to get used to their scents. 
“The lads are still running a simulation, but they’ll be done within the hour.” He says, drawing your gaze from the bed. “We’ll let you get settled in and I’ll come get you when they’re ready.” 
“Thank you, sir.” You say.
Laswell steps in as he steps away for a moment, letting the two of you say your goodbyes. You’d likely see Laswell again, and soon, but he knows after three months you’ll have bonded with her just a bit. 
Price leads Laswell to his office after she leaves your room, his ears picking up the sound of the lock clicking into place as they walk away. He’d left it on for a reason, wanting to give you the ability to feel safe and secure as you adjusted, even though you had nothing to worry about. 
“So.” Price says as he sits behind his desk, reclining back in his seat. “What can you really tell me about her?” 
Laswell gives him a knowing look. “The CIA has had their eyes on her for years now. The Omega Initiative as it is now, isn’t how it started. They were going to train omegas as agents, and she was one of the first names on that list. They had FIOT put a hold on her file once she came of age.” 
Federal Institute of Omega Training. The name was stamped on the front of your file. It was the highest rated institute in America, the place where most omegas born to politicians, government workers, and some military went. 
“They had agents go in and pretend to be interested parties just to make it seem like there was interest in her.” Laswell continues. “But, you know omegas aren’t cut out for this kind of work, so they changed the Initiative. She was still at the top of the list, but there were some...hesitations as to where to place her.” 
“What sort of hesitations?” He asks. 
“You saw those scores, John. She’s a good omega. Those purebred instincts are strong, and that makes her an easy target.” 
Most omegas born from an alpha/omega pairing were good at listening to their instincts. That was why they carried such a high standing, even among omegas. But, being so closely intune with their instincts made them more sensitive, more vulnerable. They were more likely to give in to an alpha, if the alpha knew how to play them right. 
Laswell pulls a file from her bag, sliding it across his desk to him. “She’d get walked all over in a larger pack, and the last thing she needs is to get hurt by an overbearing alpha.” There’s something hidden in Laswell’s words, his mind filing that away for later. “I need someone I can trust with her. She’s smart, learns fast. She needs a challenge, but also someone that won’t take advantage of her.” 
“It sounds like you’ve grown rather fond of her.” He says, flipping open the first page of the file. It’s the CIA’s data on her, everything they’d done in the last three months to prepare her for her life as a Special Operations pack omega. 
“Like I said, I’m the one that picked her for your team.” Laswell leans forward against his desk. “She knows what she’s in for. She was well prepared for this kind of life. She’ll let you mark her, no questions asked because that’s what she’s been told to do. She’s obedient, John, almost to a fault.”
“That could be dangerous.” Price says. 
“Yes, it could.” Laswell says. “I’m leaving her in your capable hands. She has my number, and so do you.” 
Price walks her back to the airfield, his head reeling a bit as he replays their conversation over and over. The hidden messages in Laswell’s words aren’t lost on him, and his gut feeling that something else was going on had been correct.
“Take care of her, John.” Laswell says. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you.” 
He hasn’t failed her yet. 
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Your body is tingling. You’re not sure if it’s nerves or something else. You haven’t been around an alpha since the day of your presentation, when you had been pulled from your home and taken to the institute. You had nearly wanted to keel over when you came face to face with Captain Price. Your alpha. He’s a commanding presence, the tickling at the back of your neck still not quite gone even though the door is shut and locked. 
The bed is comfortable, not any worse than what you slept on in the institute. There’s extra pillows and blankets stacked at the end, likely for your nest when you finally settled enough to make one. The door to the private bathroom is cracked open, facing the end of the bed. There’s four shirts on the desk next under the window next to the bathroom door, and your bags are sitting in front of the dresser and closet situated on the opposite wall from the bed.
You push yourself to stand, ignoring the way your legs wobble as you stare down at the four shirts on the desk. They’re all olive green, folded neatly in the exact same way. You wouldn’t have known any different, except for the scents gently wafting from them, and the names on the tags. 
Price. You pick up the one that will be the most familiar, bringing it to your nose. Tobacco smoke, aftershave, something sharp like whiskey. All things you had scented on him in your short time together. Underneath you catch a whiff of his natural scent. Something woody, fresh. A tingle crawls up your spine, prickling in the back of your neck again. You drop the shirt on the desk, taking a step back to breathe in the unscented air for a moment. 
You’re breathing heavily as you go for the shirt next to Price’s. Garrick. You press the shirt against your nose, inhaling. Aftershave, different from Price’s. Some kind of lotion. Coconut oil maybe? You can’t pick up more than the base scent of beta, the soothing almondy scent. 
You take another deep inhale of it, letting the beta scent ease you before you let it drop to the desk beside Price’s. You grab the one next to it, looking at the tag. MacTavish. You lift it to your face, scenting another aftershave. There’s something citrusy mixed in as well, slightly watered down compared to the scent of the aftershave. Again, you can’t pick up more than the scent of beta, letting it ease the tickling on the back of your neck again before you let it drop back on the desk. 
One more to go. 
You pick up the last shirt. Ghost. The faceless one. You bring the shirt to your nose, wincing slightly at the sharp tang of gunpowder and metal, smoke and a lingering aftershave. You try to smell deeper, but your nose burns with scent blocker spray. You let out a huff, dropping it back onto the desk. 
This Ghost was dedicated to his anonymity. 
He’s going to be a problem. 
You sink back onto the bed, eyeing the shirts. Your senses have heightened, picking up the scents wafting off of them, mixing in the air. You pick up the sound of boots approaching, three pairs of feet making their way down the hall. You can hear them talking and laughing as they approach. There’s a pause outside your door and you hold your breath, sitting as still as possible. 
Of course they can smell you. You had sprayed yourself down with scent blockers before you left the hotel, but it had likely worn off by now. Even with the blocker, the scent of unmated omega wasn’t hidden easily. The entire base had probably caught a whiff of your scent by now. Caramel, vanilla, strawberries with the undertone of pure omega that made alphas go insane. 
“Coming, Si?” 
Your lungs burn as you hold your breath, and for a moment you’re afraid your heartbeat might be audible from how hard it’s pounding. Steps recede from your door and you don’t breathe until they’ve disappeared. 
You decide to unpack to keep your mind busy as you wait. You don’t have much, mostly clothes from the institute and toiletries. You don’t even have a photo of your family, that part of your life behind you. You put your clothes away, venturing into the small bathroom to put away your toiletries. There’s towels already inside, along with a few things like shampoo and soap. They’re all scentless, like the things you had brought from the institute. 
Nothing that could dampen your natural scent. 
You almost don’t hear the knock on the door, lost in your own thoughts. You take a steadying breath, hand hesitating over the lock. What if it wasn’t Price? What if it wasn’t anyone from your new pack? 
“Just me.” Price’s voice comes through the door. 
Of course he would notice your hesitation. He’s a trained soldier, he’s always going to be aware of his surroundings. You unlock the door, opening it slowly. 
Price greets you with a small smile, your nose picking up the scent of his aftershave and the lingering scent of tobacco smoke now that you’re attune to it. “They’re ready, if you are.” He says. 
You nod. “Yeah, I guess.” It wasn’t like you had much of a choice to say no. 
You slip out the door, closing it behind you. You’d ditched your sweatshirt, wearing a scoop-necked shirt to give them easy access for the scenting. Price leads you down the hallway, back towards his office. You’re not quite sure what to expect, the nervous twisting in your stomach coming back. 
“I thought we’d do it in a meeting room.” Price says, likely picking up on the change in your scent. “Somewhere neutral.” 
It’s smart, it’ll keep you from getting too overwhelmed by other scents or sounds. The last thing you need to do is panic and send them all into a spiral. Talk about a first impression. 
Price pauses outside a door, looking down at you. His gaze is kind, almost sympathetic as you take a deep breath. “Ready?” 
Not really, but you wouldn’t dare say that. You have to do this, and the sooner you got the awkward part over with, the easier things will get. You nod, hands tugging nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “Yes, sir.” 
Price opens the door, stepping in first. You’re glad for the few moments you’re hidden behind him as the scents in the room slam into you. Alpha and two betas, scents you recognize from their shirts. They stand as Price enters, and for a moment you want to stay hidden behind the alpha but you know you have to be brave. You were made for this. The words drilled into your brain over and over again at the institute flash through your brain. You have one job in life and this is it. 
You can hold power over them. 
The words from the book your bunkmate had smuggled in flash through your mind. “The Powerful Omega”, it had been titled. Authored by a progressive omega, it talked all about how powerful omegas could be, even those forced into traditional roles. You can get them all wrapped around your finger if you wanted to. 
You steady your nerves, clenching your hands into fists at your sides and step out from behind Price. Your skin prickles as three sets of eyes are set on you. Price is speaking but you’re not really listening as you take them in. You recognize the two betas from their files.
Gaz, you pick up Price doing introductions, has kind eyes. He’s tall for a beta, almost the same height as Price. He waves to you, offering you a small smile. 
Soap is the shortest of the four, more what you would expect from a beta. “Good to meet ya, lass.” He greets you, giving you a charming smile. He’s going to push your boundaries, you can tell. 
You’re beginning to see the dynamics already. 
“And Ghost.” Price says, your eyes finally moving to the place you’ve been avoiding since you walked in. 
All hulking muscle, Ghost seems to take up the entire room. Your heart flutters nervously as you meet his dark gaze, his face hidden by a balaclava with a skull painted on the front. His presence is oppressive, tickling the back of your neck. You’re not sure if you want to run or submit to him, every inch of him screaming alpha. 
Price’s hand on your back nearly makes you jump, your gaze finally drawing away from Ghost and back to him. “Come on, take a seat. Tell us about yourself.”  
Price sits at the head of the table, Ghost, Soap and Gaz to his left. You take the seat on the right, staring at the other three members of your pack. You jump into your spiel, things that they already knew if they’d read your file. There’s not much else to tell, since everything about you was in that file. That was its purpose, to make you look as appealing as possible to potential alphas and packs. 
“What about your family?” Soap asks, the sharp scent of your nervous energy spiking for a moment. “Do you still talk to them?” 
You shake your head. “Not for a few years. Institutes don’t really encourage keeping ties with previous packs, but I know there were a few omegas that did. It was hard to keep track of where my family was.” 
“Your father was a Marine, correct?” Price, even though they already know the answer. 
You nod. “Yes, sir.” 
“You lived on base?” He asks. 
You nod again. “Yes, sir. We moved a lot, but we lived in pack housing on every base. We were a family pack, and I was number four of eight by the time I presented.” 
“When did you get sent to the Institute?” He asks, almost regretting answering it. 
It’s a sore subject, he can tell by the change in your face and the slight souring of your scent. “The day after I presented.” You say. 
The tension in the room is palpable, Soap and Gaz’s eyes widening in shock as Ghost's shoulders tense just slightly. Price stares at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. He knew it was likely shortly after, but that soon? Most would wait until the presentation had finished at least, and usually there was some downtime when it came to getting into an institute as well. 
“My father was a traditionalist alpha.” You say, something they also knew by your status. It was printed all over your file, squeezed in every place it could be as a reminder of your worth to whomever was reading it. “It was because we were already on base that they got to me so fast.” You explain. “It was my dad’s status in the Marines that got me into FIOT.” 
“What was it like, in the institute?” Gaz asks, wanting to change the subject a bit, if only to ease the sourness in your scent. 
You huff out a laugh, the corner of your lips lifting in a smile. “Not unlike the military, I think. We had strict schedules we stuck to every day. Everything was dictated for us, what we wore, what we learned, what we did with our free time and how often we got it. Even what we ate was chosen for us. We always had to be ready to be tested at any time, and we were always being observed.” 
“Your test scores were high.” Price remarks. 
You shrug. “I’m a perfect omega, or so my instructors always said. It comes easily to me. I don’t really have to think much about it.” 
“Did you really kneel for two hours straight?” Gaz asks. 
You huff out a laugh. “Yeah. There was one day...it was a couple years ago. I don’t know what caused it but there was something in the air. We were all on edge and worked up. The director got tired of us and made us all kneel in the mess hall during our two hour afternoon break. No cushions, no pillows. Just all forty of us, kneeling on the marble floor for two hours. Not everyone could do it. Quite a few got too fidgety, couldn’t handle the pain. Three even passed out.” 
“How did you manage it?” Gaz asks. 
Price wasn’t a fan of using instinctual habits as punishment. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and he can only imagine what else you could say they forced you to do with such nonchalance. 
“To be honest, I don’t remember most of it. I just let my mind go somewhere else and before I knew it the time was up.” You shrug.
“We won’t make you kneel for two hours.” Price says. “And definitely not without a pillow.” 
You smile softly. “Thank you, sir.” 
Price watches you, the way your eyes dart around the room again, the sour edge of your scent gone, but the tang of anxiety remains. You’ve relaxed some, though, your shoulders are not quite so tense and you’ve stopped picking at your nails. 
Ghost has remained silent the entire time you’ve spoken, eyes glued on you. You’ve tried not to look at him, finding your words get stuck in your throat whenever you meet his gaze. 
He’s going to be a problem. 
“There’s some rules we need to go over before anything else.” Price says. “You have freedom to roam this building as you please, but one of us will escort you if you need to go elsewhere at least until you’ve been marked. There’s other alphas on this base and I don’t want them getting any ideas.” 
You knew well enough omegas frequented the barracks on bases often. You don’t want to be mistaken as one. Even with their scents on you, you know that won’t stop some. You’re not even sure a mark will stop them either. 
“I want full transparency. If something happens you come to me, or you call Kate if we’re gone. If you need anything too, the same order stands.” You’re beginning to detect the edge to his voice, The Captain slipping through his more casual demeanor. “We have some downtime to adjust for now, but sometimes we may leave for weeks at a time. It will be rough, I won’t lie to you, but Kate pulled some strings and there’s an Omega Specialist that’s been brought in for you. You’ll meet her later, I’m sure she wants to do a full workup.” 
You’ve met many Omega Specialists in your time. The beta medical professionals that go through specialized training so they can assist and treat omegas better than regular doctors and medics. Most of them go through a residency at Institutes, studying and practicing on young omegas. The thought of having at least someone who might understand you on a deeper level is comforting. 
“I’m starving, let’s get the scenting over with.” Soap nearly whines, rubbing his stomach. 
His words strike a chord of nervous energy in you again. You had been prepared many times for the scenting. You’d seen instructional videos and done mock practices with your fellow omegas. Yet you feel like it’s not going to be enough. These were real alphas and betas, your pack. What if you don’t like the way they smell? 
What if they don’t like the way you smell? 
“If you’re alright with it?” Price says, looking at you. 
You’re taken aback by the offer for consent. You weren’t expecting it, as this was something you have to do. What would happen if you said no? Would they respect your boundaries? The fact you had been asked at all is shocking to you. You won’t say no, because you’ll have to do it eventually, and at least this way you’ll be walking around smelling like them. If nothing else, it might make this transition a bit easier. 
“Yeah.” You nod, swallowing down your nerves. “I’m okay with it.” 
All five of you stand from the table, your stomach churning with nervous energy. You try to clear your head, try to calm yourself so you don’t stink them out with your anxiety. You need your scent to be clear, to be as tantalizing as possible. 
“Don’t look so worried, lass.” Soap says as they gather around you. “We won’t bite.” He winks at you playfully. 
Your cheeks warm as Price steps up to you. He is right, that would come later. Likely during your first heat when Price would give you his mark and claim you as his. It wasn’t unusual for packs with multiple alphas to let more than one claim an omega, but judging from what you’ve seen of Ghost, you’re not sure that’s going to happen. 
He had a right to claim you too, but from the look of it, he was the least excited about your joining their pack. 
You tense as Price’s hands settle on your waist, lifting you up so you’re seated on the edge of the table, putting you closer to being eye-to-eye with them. They’re all so big, the natural consequence of genetics and their jobs. 
“Ready?” 
You turn to look up at Price, close enough you can see the freckles on his nose and the grey in his blue eyes. You nod, pressing your hands into the table as you bare your neck for him. Your heart is fluttering in your chest as he leans in closer, pressing his face against your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he rubs his face against your scent gland, warm breaths fanning against your skin. 
He pulls away just slightly, baring his own neck to you. You press forward, gripping the edge of the table as you press your face against his throat. You catch the scents you had picked up on his shirt in your room, the surface level scents that were environmental. You close your eyes, inhaling deeper. Woody. Pine? Spruce? It reminds you of a candle your mother used to burn. There’s another scent, the one that lingers. Petrichor, you think, rubbing your face against his scent gland. 
His hand on your side pulls you back from your scent-induced haze, and you force yourself back from him. You take deep breaths of the sterile air in the meeting room, picking up his scent more clearly now as it mixes with the others. 
“Good girl.” He says, squeezing your side gently. Something flutters in your stomach at his praise, some deep primal part of your brain preening at the thought of making your alpha proud. “Ghost.” He says, stepping back from you. 
You’re snapped back into reality as the hulking alpha steps up towards you, moving almost silently. You try to keep yourself calm as he stalks towards you, his sharp gaze burning into yours. 
He’s testing you. 
You won’t satisfy him, holding his gaze as he reaches you, his thighs pressing against your knees. One hand comes to rest next to your hip on the table, his body leaning in towards you. You’re enveloped by the black fabric of his sweatshirt as his other hand reaches up to tug his balaclava up. Stubble tickles your skin as he presses his face against your throat, breathing in deeply. He lets out a quiet sound as he scents you, almost akin to a growl. 
He shifts his weight, pressing his uncovered scent gland against your face. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply. Gunpowder and metal stings your nose again, along with the scent of his body wash. You press deeper into his throat, seeking out his natural scent. Something deep and musky washes over you, like suede or leather. There’s something fresh in there too, almost like eucalyptus. You press your face closer, inhaling it deeply. Your head spins, and you’re sure your knees would have given out if you hadn’t been sitting. 
Something rumbles in Ghost's chest as you scent him in a daze. While all alphas’ scents carried a natural musk, Ghosts seems to shoot directly to some deep part of your brain even Price’s scent hadn’t reached. 
You let out a quiet whine as he’s pulled from you, his mask back in place by the time you pry your eyes open. Ghost is leaning back against the wall, eyes back to their icy stare as he watches you. Your head is still spinning as someone steps up next to you, taking Ghost’s place. 
“How ya doing?” Gaz asks, eyes assessing you. “Hanging in there?” 
You nod, taking a couple deep breaths to try and clear your head. 
“You’re halfway there.” He says, leaning in closer. “Got through the hard part.” 
His breath fans your neck as he leans in, the familiar scent of beta flooding your senses. He was likely doing it on purpose, trying to calm you after the intensity of being scented by two alphas. You breathe in the almondy scent, relaxing into him as he scents you. Your hands raise, gripping his shoulders as he presses his neck close to your face. You seek out the source of the calming scent, pressing your nose into his scent gland. 
You’re drawn from the room and to the time your family took a trip to the beach when your father was stationed in North Carolina. Salty sea air, briney and clean, and something else, something soft. Like the clean linen scented spray your mother used on the laundry. You’re clinging to him, his arms around you as you relax into his scent. The tingling energy that had begun to build up at the proximity to the alphas fades as you melt into the calming energy of the beta in front of you. 
“Easy.” He says, his hand on the back of your head as he pulls you away from him. You take a deep breath, trying to clear your head. “Still with us?” He asks, meeting your gaze. 
“Yeah.” You say, sounding breathless. You knew scenting could be intense, but you hadn’t expected it to feel quite like this. 
“Almost done, hen.” Soap says, taking Gaz’s place in front of you. “Lucky there’s only four of us.”
He’s right, you think as you bear your throat for him. You’re not sure you could have handled it had there been more of them. You already feel like you’re floating, enveloped in so many scents you’re not sure what to do. That tingling has begun at the back of your neck as Soap scents you, your eyes meeting Ghost’s. The look in them has changed, his body poised like he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice. 
Soap pulls back, blocking your view of him as he bears his throat to you. You press your face into his neck, pushing past the scents you knew, and that beta scent, looking for him. 
You inhale deeply, the scent of warm spices invading your nose. It smells like the holidays, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger enveloping you. You can almost taste the apple pie, see the gingerbread houses. You cling to his shirt, holding him against you as you rub your face against his throat. 
You’re trembling just slightly as Soap withdraws from your hold. It’s subtle, but to them, highly aware soldiers, it’s likely clear as day. Your skin is buzzing, like the fluorescent lights above you. You can hear it now, the buzz of electricity. Your pupils are blown, the room suddenly clearer and sharper. 
“There she is.” The low grumble of Price’s voice begins to pull you from your heightened state, your eyes turning to him as his hand cups your cheek. 
You press into the rough palm of his hand, eyes picking up the grey in his beard and hair as he stands in front of you. He’s older than you, they’re all older than you. Older than you, bigger than you, stronger than you. A small tickle of fear begins to itch in the back of your mind, drawing you from your daze. 
You’re vulnerable, entirely vulnerable and incapable of defending yourself against them. Forgetting second genders, they’re all much stronger than you, not to mention trained fighters. You’d be fucked if they decided to try anything, if they wanted to do anything. You’d be entirely helpless against them. 
They could if they wanted to. 
It would be well within their rights. Even though you had just met, even though you bore no claiming mark, there was nothing stopping them. You couldn’t stop them, and no one would help you. 
“You hungry, pup?” 
Price’s voice cuts through your fearful daze. There’s a slight furrow to his brow, likely picking up the sharp edge seeping into your scent. Omega fear and distress was the one defense nature gave to your kind, aside from the omega itself. It’s a putrid scent meant to ward off alphas and betas. You’ve heard it described as smelling like sulfur, burning coals, gasoline, melting plastic, and sometimes even the ozonic scent that accompanied alphas in a true rage. It was a warning, but it doesn't always work. 
Pup. Price called you Pup. 
You haven’t been called “pup” since you were a pup. It’s a commonly used nickname for any status. You remember your father calling your older brothers pup, even after they presented. It could be derogatory, but it’s more commonly used affectionately. He’s trying to ease your discomfort, the fear welling up inside you. 
The door is open, the fresh air of the hallway watering down the heavy mix of scents that had become trapped in the room. Soap and Gaz have already stepped out, Ghosts hulking figure blocking the doorway for a moment as he follows them, leaving you alone with Price for a moment. 
“Alright?” Price asks as your gaze meets his again. 
You nod, still leaning into his touch. “Yeah, ‘s a lot.” 
“I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek, a knowing glint in his eyes. He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but Soap nearly passed out when we scented him.” 
You cover your mouth to stifle your giggle. It wasn’t unusual for scentings to become so intense that the receiver passes out. You’re sure if there had been more than four in your new pack you would have passed out. 
“Come on.” He says, wrapping an arm around your waist to lift you off the table and onto unsteady legs. He doesn’t even grunt with the effort, moving you easily. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s not entirely one of fear. 
His hand is warm on your back as he leads you out of the room, the clean air in the hallway clearing your head further. Most bases have circulating air systems, constantly filtering out scents to keep things as neutral as possible. They’re less effective in smaller areas though, especially after scents were intentionally projected. Most military members wore scent blockers, at least while performing their duties. You remember your father coming home at the end of the day with the dull burn of scent blocker still on his clothes. 
Your head is still spinning a bit as you follow them out of the barracks and towards the mess hall. They seem to almost walk in a formation, though you suppose with years of having it drilled in your head, it’s almost second nature. You’re sandwiched between Soap and Gaz in the middle, Price in front and Ghost bringing up the rear. 
The other personnel on the base give your group a wide berth, and even in the mess you can feel the glances, but none of the stares linger. Price guides you next to him as you get your food, adding things to your tray for you. That tickling feeling starts again at the back of your neck as he makes your plate, your omega preening happily at the knowledge of what he’s doing. 
He’s proving his ability as a provider. 
In more primordial times he might have gone out and hunted for food to bring back to you to prove his capabilities. Even in more modern times, he might have hunted as some alphas still did, or he would have gone to the store to keep the fridge stocked full of food. Alphas are good at adapting to their surroundings and situations. He’s proving his capabilities in the way he can. 
You’re also silently grateful to not have to think too hard about the choices in front of you. Even after a week, British food is still a bit unfamiliar to you. It’s not entirely indiscernible, though, and you’re sure you could pick out things that sounded good if you had to. At this moment, though, with your head still reeling a bit and the unsettling energy of a new place filled with unknown alphas and betas, you’re happy to let Price do it for you. 
He carries your tray and his to a table, sitting you next to him. Gaz takes your other side, Soap and Ghost sitting across from you. The choices in their seating arrangement don’t feel quite so random to you, and you quickly realize the arrangement is similar to the room setup in the barracks. 
A beta for each alpha, you think. Gaz and Price. Soap and Ghost. 
Then there’s you, stuck somewhere in the middle of them. Somehow you’ll fit between them, squeezing into their perfect dynamic. Omegas are supposed to help balance packs, but as you sit with the four members of your new pack, you can’t help but feel like you’re only going to make things more difficult. 
NEXT ->
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I'm willing to put together a taglist if people are interested...
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maxlarens · 4 months ago
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OP: i can’t complain but i will
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pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader; oscar piastri & driver!reader & lando norris; lando norris x oscar piastri
word count: 2.4k+
an: here’s a little bit of angst a little bit of fluff and me holding myself back from making osc x reader x lan a poly ship😭 disclaimer: this isn’t an accurate reflection of the events of the Hungary GP. i take creative liberties as usual! and sorry to lewis. it’s still a mercedes P3 i guess😭 also here are my thoughts on the race so nothing is misconstrued here. AND gif credit because it keeps disappearing!
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I. I choked on such longing I couldn’t spit out
Oscar crosses the finish line in Hungary and it’s fine.
It’s fine.
Y’know, fine in the way where there’s this feeling in his chest. This thing gnawing at his insides. At his gut. And maybe it’s his helmet, maybe it’s the temperature, but there’s something on his cheeks. Heat. Something burning. Maybe.
His mind goes immediately to those clips he’d seen of Lando’s onboard in Miami. The shrill little giggles, the high-pitch of his teammates voice, the cheer of the crowd faintly in the background. Crackle hiss—
No one’s cheering for Oscar—
Tom is on the radio.
Oscar’s not stupid, not by a long shot. He can hear the strained quality of it, the forced cheerfulness.
Yeah. Oscar apologises before he can think twice about it. It just slips out of him. He thinks of you telling him— on a Tuesday night two weeks ago— that he needed to “stop saying sorry so fucking much, Oscar”. The way he’d been distracted by his name in your mouth. Oscar. Not Osc like he’s used to, or the occasional Oscie you’re prone to throw out. Oscar. Like you were serious.
Whatever. He says something to Tom that his publicist would be proud of. Waves at the grandstands. Tries not to think, not like this. I didn’t want it like this.
A sigh leeches out of him. Lando’s car is in his periphery and you’re trailing behind him as the three of you turn. The three of you on a podium… it’s a dream come true for him. But— yeah— not like this.
He’s in the car for too long. Helmet on his head, where no one can see his face. He’s okay, he thinks. He’s fine.
He thinks of being a little kid at Albert Park. Watching F1 in the living room late at night. Getting in a kart for the first time and feeling alive. And okay—
Yes, there’s a sour taste in his mouth. Words unsaid sitting on his tongue. But he’s starting to feel the smile tugging at his lips. The feeling is his chest starts to ease, just a little. Just a bit.
He’s looking up and there’s you and there’s Lando. You’re on opposite sides of the car, Lando’s reaching for him, for his hand. Clutching it tightly. Lando squeezes once, his helmet covered face bobs in a nod that says something… part of Oscar hopes it’s I’m sorry. Another part of him is mad that it may not be.
And you, well you have no idea the half hour he’s just had. But your hand is on his shoulder and then on the top of his helmet and you’re whacking it with a gusto he hadn’t expected. He thinks you might be crying. You keep reaching in through your visor to wipe at your eyes and it’s making Oscar feel sick. You’re crying and he’s sitting here feeling sorry for himself because the win wasn’t perfect.
Fuck.
So Oscar grins and he bears it.
He gets out of the car and he smooths it over until everything is okay again. Because that’s what he’s good at. Because that’s how he’s made it here. Oscar Piastri is a team player, sometimes more than he is anything else. And that’s okay, that’s fine for now, because one day, eventually, Oscar is going to be the reason they need to hire a team player. One day he’ll be the beating heart of some Formula One team and he won’t have to win a race because his teammate had to let him by—
That’s not Lando’s fault either. Lando is…
He’s Lando. Oscar gets it.
Oscar gets it more than anyone.
II. I am obsessive. I contain nothing but the replay
Lando is trying so fucking hard not to have a tantrum.
It’s this infuriating feedback loop where he thinks I had it and then something cuts in to say but Oscar deserved it and then it starts over again. It’s making Lando feel like shit, for losing, for being a bad friend, for jeopardising the relative peace of the team. He’s trying to temper the angry, selfish little spoiled brat voice in his head but it’s so fucking hard to keep that dog on a leash.
He’s trying to be okay.
He’s in the post-race room with you and he’s trying to be fine.
And okay, so he knocks the stupid second place cap to the ground in front of the camera that’s broadcasting you guys to the world. Always second. God. He’d tasted a win in Miami and it’s almost like he’s worse off for it. It’s a win or it’s nothing and it’s tearing him apart from the inside out. There’s a voice in his head that’s saying, you’re just a one trick pony, Lando. Do it again and you might be worth something.
It’s making him crazy.
He bites his tongue. Turns to look at you, lounging in the third place chair like it doesn’t matter, like you’re happy to just be on the podium.
You raise an eyebrow at him, face blank but he knows what it says anyway. Be happy for him. He would be happy for you.
Fuck, and he would—
He would. Selfless and kind above all, Oscar.
Lando frowns, his back to the lens.
Your gaze flicks from him, to the hat on the floor. Pick it up, it says. Pick it up and pretend.
Lando picks it up. He’s the one who gave Oscar the position back after all. He’s his own worst enemy right now. Not you, certainly not Oscar—
Speaking of Oscar.
He’s here. He’s holding the first place cap that Lando wants to be his, he’s putting it on his head and Lando’s okay. Lando’s fine. He’s watching the race replay and seeing Max turn into your car and he’s trying desperately to look at that, pay attention to that, and not Oscar.
Because it hurts.
Not in a good way, not the way Lando looks at him sometimes and feels some yawning sun in his chest.
Instead there’s something bitter and snarling.
Some chained, angry dog on a leash.
Lando turns, goes to sit in the chair he doesn’t want to sit in, and catches Oscar’s eye. He feels the snarling thing strain, it goes to bark, to bite. Then Oscar smiles. It’s not much— it doesn’t reach his eyes exactly. But it’s effort. It’s thank you. It’s I know what that meant.
It’s enough.
III. He forgives you, dogs are like that, so loyal
You know something is off the second that you get out of the car. This isn’t what Oscar’s maiden win is supposed to look like— or it almost is, but the picture is wrong.
It’s not ecstatic, it’s not crowds chanting his name, it’s not Oscar getting out of the car like a shot and jumping into the arms of his team.
Instead, you see grim faces plastered over with smiles, McLaren engineers huddled into groups and talking in hushed tones. Lando’s sulking, you can tell by the set of his shoulders, the way people hover around him, keeping their distance a bit. You blink— there’s something in your eyes, your nose tingling with some emotion—
Whatever. You push it aside, go to Oscar’s car before anything else, before even taking your helmet off. It's you and Lando on opposite sides and whatever the case, whatever happened out there that you're not aware of, Lando's here. Lando's sucking it up.
You find out bits and pieces over the next hour, from your race engineer, from the post-race interviews, from Lando's attitude in the cool down room. The tension between them is bleeding into everything and they orbit around each other all afternoon. They can't quite look at each other, they keep making eye contact for a split second and then letting it slide away. They keep smiling these strained things at each other. Lando keeps reaching out to touch Oscar, but always at arms length. Like an apology neither of them can quite commit to.
You know it's the team that are the issue and it's also this hurt that Lando can't quite get over, and an Oscar who is trying to just be happy but needs more time to get there.
It's making your heart ache.
You've dreamt of this, stupidly enough. Oscar on the top step of the podium, that bunny-tooth grin of his spreading and spreading. Champagne and confetti. You're there, of course you're there. Lando is too. So it's painful to have that dream actualised and to realise it's not perfect— because, well, nothing ever is.
And it's fucking unfortunate.
But it's them. So it's fine.
You're baffled by that sometimes. You still hold grudges against old teammates. There are things you'll never forgive them for, wounds that will never heal. But you come back from your frustratingly long debrief and find them doubled over outside their driver's room, giggling their heads off at something. It's not perfect, there's still something between them, something in the air.
But they're trying.
And Oscar is smiling wider than you've seen in a long while.
So for Oscar's sake you push it aside—
It's always a little different away from prying eyes, away from rolling cameras, in front of which you feel pressure to act like Oscar and Lando are first and foremost your rivals. When they're gone they can just be your friends. Your boys.
Naturally, you're thudding into Oscar before he really notices you're there. Too busy throwing his head back at something Lando had said. He's still in champagne wet fireproofs as you reach your arms around his shoulders, but so are you. He smells vaguely like a wet dog and lets out a soft oft noise as you charge into him.
"Hey, race winner," you say as he threads his arms around your waist.
You put your forehead on his collarbone, close your eyes as a laugh flutters out of him. You hear it rumble in his chest as he rocks the two of you gently from side to side. It's giggly, light and joyful like the one he does when he's tipsy. But he's not tipsy, just happy you think.
"Race winner," he mumbles, low, quiet, to himself more than anything, "Yeah."
"Yeah," you whisper back.
You're like that maybe for too long. Longer than people who are just friends should be. You can hear Lando moving around behind you, asphalt grinding under his feet. His gaze prickling the back of your neck. Eventually, you pull away. You slide your hands to grip Oscar's shoulders, fingertips pressing into warm skin, lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. Accidentally, your lips land too close to the corner of his mouth, brushing against stubble and sweat. You hear something soft escape his lips, barely audible as his brown eyes bore into yours. Pupils blown large, gaze drifting momentarily down to your lips.
"Good job today, Osc," you say, trying not to let your breath hitch.
You pull away a little before he does something in the heat of the moment— and right in front of Lando, of all people. He's high on adrenaline, that's all. That's all.
"Thank you," he smiles, all teeth.
You feel hot all the way down your neck, into your chest. Hm, premature menopause, you think, rather than the obvious— which is that it makes you mega nervous to be that close to Oscar Piastri.
Lando clears his throat.
In a jerky, surprised movement you step away from Oscar, while Oscar fumbles awkwardly for his phone in his pocket. He holds it up, says something stumbling about calling his family and then takes only maybe five steps away before you or Lando can say a thing.
You laugh, just a little.
Then do a pleased little spin to face Lando.
Who seems better, lighter. At least in comparison to how he was immediately post-race. Which you’re glad to see. Especially after catching bits of his team radio from a brief conversation with George. You’re not particularly happy about it, but it’s not really your place to be upset.
“Hey,” you smile warmly.
He smiles back, tighter than you’d hoped.
You move a bit closer into his personal space, watching him carefully. It’s okay you think. He’s more subdued than usual, but you can’t see the seething thing that was under his skin earlier. That would be fine of course, he’s entitled to that, but his sake you’re glad it’s gone.
“You okay?”, you ask.
Lando nods, eyes falling closed momentarily as he hums contemplatively, “‘M okay. Happy for him.”
You nod, stepping closer to pull him into a one armed hug that’s not quite as energetic as the one you’d given Oscar before.
“Yeah,” you say quietly, pressing the side of your face into his cheek, “Upset too?”
He hums again, sighs, “Yeah. ‘Course.”
“Yeah,” because you get it,
Maybe not in these exact circumstances. But you know what it’s like. To chase a win with everything you have, to fall short after it’s been in your grasp. You understand that. So does Oscar—
Speaking of.
Oscar’s back, footsteps crunching asphalt behind you.
“They’re asleep,” he explains, “I’ll talk to them later.”
You half let Lando go, moving to accommodate the race winner into your little circle. They’re a bit weird about it, shuffling into place awkwardly, you’re not surprised after a day like today, but you persevere— wrapping arms around both of them and pulling them simultaneously down into a haphazard hug that you’re in the middle of.
Lando’s face is in your neck somehow, mumbling something about you being overbearing while his hand clutches at your waist to keep himself upright. Oscar’s arm is tight around your shoulders and your face is squished up against his chest. You squeeze tightly— let them go when it’s been a minute too long—
You can feel yourself almost getting caught up in the tangle of limbs. The warmth of your friends. The emotion of it. You think there’s something stuck in your eye again, something wet in your tear ducts.
You sniff, try to ignore it, hope they don’t see.
Then, stupid observant Oscar, “Are you crying?”
You let out an offended noise and shake your head to deny it, but instead something that’s almost a sob, but not quite, slips out—
“No,” you declare, but it’s unconvincing—
and then you’re back in the hug. All sweat and sticky champagne residue, Lando’s too-strong cologne and Oscar who smells like burnt rubber. And it’s not perfect, because nothing ever is, but it’s enough for you.
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this was really cathartic for me to be honest. just needed my little driver!reader to hug landoscar after that race. needed to get some big feelings out and then needed a sweet little fluff section to make me feel better.
ALSO DISCLAIMER: this was a work of FICTION it does not reflect the entirety of what i feel about the events of the hungary gp. i am simply playing with dolls! thank you and goodbye!
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saintzweig · 6 days ago
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poly boyfriends!artrick x reader headcanons
– THANK YOU FOR 500!! ily guys thank you for your support, i appreciate every single one of you truly 🥹 this is pretty simple, just fluff and domesticity. barely proofread because i'm me :p also feedback (on all my works) is appreciated so please feel free
ꢾ꣒ everyone knew that patrick and art were best friends, they were always together. tennis matches, classes, parties, you name it. it was nearly impossible for them to be apart for longer than an hour.
ꢾ꣒ but nobody knew they were together together. behind closed doors, hands were all over each other and lips locked. soft 'i love you's' whispered into each other's ears.
ꢾ꣒ patrick didn't care about people knowing but his partner did, it was something art wasn't ready for and he respected that.
ꢾ꣒ when patrick left for tour, art had a hard time adjusting. he didn't really have any friends aside from his boyfriend and tashi, who was always busy with tennis.
ꢾ꣒ so patrick encouraged him to join extracurriculars aside from the tennis team, convincing him that it would help broaden his network and all that stuff.
ꢾ꣒ that's how art ended up at your baking club, he didn't know how to bake but it was either this or the robotics club. you assured him that that's okay, he's here to learn anyways.
ꢾ꣒ it was you, him and a few more people that would meet up atleast twice a month at the assigned members' house. not his, seeing as he lived in the dorms.
ꢾ꣒ you were patient with him which he appreciated, you didn't make him feel dumb for struggling to follow even the simplest instructions neither did you make him feel out of place for being a man learning how to bake. (it was the 2000s, ok)
ꢾ꣒ one night, he dreamt about you in a way that made his heart race until he woke up. he was in a mood for the entire day after that, feeling so guilty because you were his friend and well, he has a boyfriend.
ꢾ꣒ he talked to patrick about it, not wanting to keep anything from him but he was surprised to hear his boyfriend be so casual about it. "it's fine, it was just a dream, it'll pass. plus you're allowed to find other people attractive."
ꢾ꣒ and art hoped it would pass, until it had been two months since and all it did was grew. into a real, stupid crush on you. he couldn't help the way his cheeks grew red or the way his heart skipped a beat whenever you would come near him during your club meetings.
ꢾ꣒ when patrick came back from tour, art couldn't stop himself from tearing up out of guilt. clutching the latter's shirt tightly and furiously apologizing for feeling this way.
ꢾ꣒ that's when they opened up the conversation about the possibility of art being polyamorous.
ꢾ꣒ the next club meeting, which was held at yours again, art brought patrick with him. and when patrick saw you, he understood almost immediately why art was so into you.
ꢾ꣒ despite your disheveled hair, dirty apron and streaks of flour on your cheek, you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. even surpassing his previous crush on tashi duncan.
ꢾ꣒ when art saw his reaction, he felt a burn in his chest. not out of jealousy but rather at the idea of extending their love to you, if you accepted.
ꢾ꣒ you and art decided to bake a cake together while patrick spectated, he's not to be trusted in the kitchen (they learned that the hard way)
ꢾ꣒ art stood on your right while patrick on the other, you were in the middle of them whisking the cake mix.
ꢾ꣒ patrick dipped a finger into the mixture before placing it into his mouth, causing art to softly glare at him for his lack of manners but the look was disregarded.
ꢾ꣒ "so... has my boyfriend been a good club member?"
ꢾ꣒ you couldn't help the way your breath hitched, glancing between the two of them with wide eyes. "boyfriend?"
ꢾ꣒ "aw, you don't talk about me, artie?"
ꢾ꣒ you stood there silently as embarrassment creeped all over your body. you had this idea that maybe art was single and into you, but now his boyfriend was right there, telling you all about their relationship.
ꢾ꣒ patrick immediately clocked your reaction, grinning down at you. "you like him, don't you?"
ꢾ꣒ you swear you nearly died from choking on your own saliva.
ꢾ꣒ "don't worry, sweetheart. he likes you too, a lot"
ꢾ꣒ things escalated quite quickly from then on, the three of you spending most days together at your house or on the tennis court, art walking you to your classes almost everyday and going out whenever patrick is home from tour.
ꢾ꣒ art slept over a lot at yours, his arm tucked under your head and the other draping around your waist while your laptop was on your bedside table, camera on and patrick sleeping on the screen.
ꢾ꣒ it was a little hard to navigate because you made sure to tread carefully as to not leave anyone out but for the most part, it was comfortable and sweet.
ꢾ꣒ patrick was loud and outgoing, art was more introverted and gentle while you were the one that kept the balance between their somehow similar yet contrasting personalities.
ꢾ꣒ you kept patrick in line and helped art learn how to put himself first.
ꢾ꣒ everyone thought that you were dating only one of them, which was fair seeing as how they saw you the most with art
ꢾ꣒ you didn't mind, although it was a little disheartening because you wanted people to know that patrick was your boyfriend too.
ꢾ꣒ and because no one knew patrick was in a relationship, he had a lot of people coming up to him and asking him out.
ꢾ꣒ art had enough one day when the two of you overheard a group of friends objectifying talking about patrick.
ꢾ꣒ when patrick walked up to the two of you before his game, their conversation only got more loud and obnoxious in hopes to catch his attention and art couldn't stop himself from pulling the brunette in for a very passionate kiss. "you're cute when you're jealous, donaldson"
ꢾ꣒ patrick played the entire game with a smirk on his face while art had his head nuzzled into your neck in embarrassment, "why did i do that?"
ꢾ꣒ after graduating university, art joined patrick in going pro, often travelling together.
ꢾ꣒ you opened a small baking business that you would often operate inside your shared apartment until you've saved up enough to rent a place for a small bakery.
ꢾ꣒ when the two boys are home, art, being the sweet boy he is, would help you with orders while patrick is in charge of choosing a movie and what to get for takeout.
ꢾ꣒ although patrick gets bored pretty easily especially when you two were taking long in the kitchen, he'd sneak in and try to distract the two of you. snaking his arms around your waist and trail kisses down from your jaw to your neck.
ꢾ꣒ of course he doesn't want art to feel left out so he'd remove one arm around your waist to reach over and squeeze art's behind, earning him a handful of flour thrown onto his pretty face.
ꢾ꣒ it's a little unconventional sure, but you wouldn't have it any other way.
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okshu · 10 months ago
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—ㅤ⠀ 峠ㅤ⠀ 𝗐͟𝗐͟𝗐﹕﹙ATEEZ FIC RECS﹚
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all fics of ateez that i read and went "omg wow". the authors are really talented too so make sure to check out their other works.
▨ LEGEND ㄑ ꮺ favs . f,a,s - fluff, angst, smut
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𖥔 MEMBERS ˖
홍중 ─── kim hongjoong
i. guns and roses by @baekhvuns [s,ꮺ ] [mafia, enemies to lovers; 6.4k.] ii. love tailored by @arafilez [f] [e2l, fashion designer!khj x ceo!reader; 8.5k] iii. look after you by @mingigoo [f,s] [nurse fem reader x struggling musician hongjoong, enemies to lovers (kind of), some angst, smut, fluff, hospital au; 10.3k] iv. promise by @daesukiii [a,f] [angst, some fluff, hurt/minimal comfort, e for everyone, established relationship; 1.8k] v. ugh, as if by @ennysbookstore [s] [one-shot, punk!hongjoong x feminine!reader, enemies to lovers (kinda); 11.13k]
.
성화 ─── park seonghwa
i. sleep-talker by @mingigoo [f, s, ꮺ] [roommates au, vacation au, one bed trope, forced proximity au; 10.2k] ii. the duke and his general by @baekhvuns [a,s] [royalty, arranged marriage au, romcom, miniseries; 61k] iii. mr and mrs park by @baekhvuns [f,a,s] [mafia, romcom, e2l, single parent au, 50k] iv. bodyguard by @baekhvuns [f,a,s] [romcom, bodyguard au + forbidden relationship au; 37.8k] v. misguided by @flurrys-creativity [f,a]
.
윤호 ─── jeong yunho
i. come fly with me by @hwaightme [f, ꮺ] [love at first sight, bit of angst, slice of life; 9k] ii. bedfellows by @sungbeam [f] [one bed trope, frnds who cuddle; 1.1k]
.
여상 ─── kang yeosang
i. crash landing on you by @atozfic [f, a, s, ꮺ] [mild enemies to friends to lovers, fake dating au, nepobaby!yeosang, student reader; 20.3k] ii. 7:29 P.M. by @edenesth [a, comfort] [timestamp]
.
산 ─── choi san
i. this youth of craziness by @baekhvuns [f, s, ꮺ] [slice of life, drama, romcom & travel dreams; 40k] ii. when he's (drunk) too much by @atinybitofau [f, a] [headcannons]
.
민기 ─── song mingi
i. butterflies by @hwaslayer [f, s, ꮺ] [established relationship/marriage, parents au; 3.2k] ii. 23:47 by @lvlystars [f]
.
우영 ─── jung wooyoung
i. 3.20 a.m. by @strawberryseonghwaz [f] ii. bf texts w/ wooyoung by @beenbaanbuun [f] iii. change of heart by @hotteoki [f, ꮺ] [suitor!wooyoung x princess!reader, arranged marriage, medieval era, strangers to lovers] iv. 21:23 P.M. by @adoringsan v. i don't want to by @sanjoongie [f, ꮺ] [office au, single parent au, rivals to lovers; 1k]
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종호 ─── choi jongho
i. scoot over, choi by @seonghwaddict [f, ꮺ] [one bed trope, slight fluff, slight enemies to lovers but they're not quite at the lovers part yet, agent jongho and reader; 0.6k] ii. falling and sleeping by @seonghwaddict [f] [crack, friends to lovers; 1.5k]
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𖥔 OT8 // POLY ˖
i. ateez in the multiverse by @hotteoki [ f, ꮺ ] [ headcannons ] ii. splish splash by @atozfic [s] [no use of y/n, swim team au, lifeguard!reader, pro-swimmers!sanhwawooho; 20k+] iii. asking bf!ateez to draw you a flower by @eightmakesonebraincell [ f ] [ text imagines ] iv. world episode fin:will by @arafilez [f,a,s] [ series ] v. happy death day by @flurrys-creativity [s] vi. ateez as mafia member who fall for you [ one . two . christmas sp ] by @eightmakesonebraincell [ f ] [ headcannons ]
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copyright to respective authors, don't forget to reblog their works ^^ okshu
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boiohboii · 11 months ago
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The people's sweethearts
Ch II
(Verstappen!reader x tom holland x zendaya)
Soulmate au
YN Verstappen had been through hell, by her own father, for something she didn't even ask for. She grew up learning that she should hate what was given to her, after all it was the reason her father was always angry with her. So what should she do when the one thing she learned to hate is the one thing that brings her love, safe and comfort that not even her older brother can compare.
WARNING: not proof read, Jos Verstappen (worsned like 10 times for this fic) poly relationship, derogatory terms by father, abusive father. If I missed anything else please let me know
Masterlist
ch.I
Faceclaim: kiki hertz
Tom prided himself in never exposing his soulmark, he let a lot of things out that shouldn't be and his soulmark not being one of those is such an achievement. Mostly because from a very young age, when he started acting, his mother would make sure he covered it up with makeup so that no one, not even those behind the scenes would see it.
"So, you're invited to watch cars drive in circles?"
Meeting Zendaya had been a dream, they both felt the need to be closer to each other whenever possible even before they discovered their identical soulmarks. Both of them working and hanging around each other made it so much difficult to conceal their newfound relationship and eventually the whole world knew that both of them were soulmates, and not just that, everyone was now aware that Tom Holland and Zendaya Coleman were fated to have a third lover, a third soul with them to keep them sane from all the chaos their lives bring in the form of fans and crazy paparazzi.
"How can you say that?" Tom looked back at his girlfriend as he poured himself some tea "you literally met Lewis Hamilton not that long ago!"
Tom was painfully aware of the fact that Zendaya isn't that interested in either of the sports he enjoys: formula 1 and golf.
"Oh yeah, at a fashion show," Zendaya recalls as she moves over to hug tom from behind, resting her chin on his head. "He was nice."
"Do you think we'll meet our darling soon?" Zendaya asked, making Tom leave his drink to hold her hand in reassurance.
"I think so," turning around he let go of one of zendaya's hands to let his palm rest on her cheek "I know that I met you when I kept thinking about my soulmate, so I have a feeling that we'll meet darling soon."
The couple had taken to calling their third soulmate Darling, a nickname that they both agreed to reserve for their missing soul.
"Yeah, I feel so too."
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Liked by maxverstappen1, F1wags&faves, verstappentruther and 683,519 others
Kellypiquet: a weekend with her was truly missed.
maxverstappen1: ♥️♥️
username: God, yn verstappen is so pretty
username: I wanna be her soulmate so bad
username: LOOK AT HER CHEEKS! I WANNA BITE THEM!
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With his work schedule Tom wasn't able to attend much f1 races, but when he could he did, and most of them were the infamous English track, Silverstone.
But here in Monaco, the races were something else, Tom can feel how the people in this country were raised watching these cars from their homes, cheering for their favorite driver and the preparations for the race throughout the entire country are just mind blowing (he promised himself that he would bring Zendaya here for a vacation, this place is amazing).
"Is something wrong?" The voice of Christian Horner stopped Tom dead in his tracks, the team principle of the red bull formula 1 team making him feel like a little child caught with his hand in a cookie jar.
"Oh, um, yeah, yes-" clearing his throat Tom couldn't help still looking around, wanting to see the reason of the all too familiar tugging his heart "just looking around, the race is very different from Silverstone, the atmosphere is just so..."
And there it was, the reason his heart is pulling, the person he hoped he would meet as soon as he felt their presence in this specific garage, his darling; their darling.
"Well, Monaco is the heart of motorsport, especially formula 1, you can't live here without being a fan really."
Christian wasn't an idiot, he had eyes and his observational skills were too good. It wouldn't be the first time he witnessed a celebrity looking at yn verstappen, the girl hooking everyone in with her innocent face and charming smile. It would, however, be the first time he saw someone loose their breath over her and he knew what that meant, he knew that expression; he had went through it when he met his wife, he saw it on Max when he met Kelly and now he is going to see it on yn.
He thought he met an angel when he saw Zendaya, he thought that the feeling he would get when meeting their darling wouldn't be as strong, as intense, but seeing her there, standing next to Adrian Newey with a notebook and a pen in her hands, discussing something that seemed so important, made him unaware of anything else. She was all he could see, hear and feel. She was who they had been missing, and god did she make him want to scream at the top of his lungs.
He felt his chest swell up with emotions as he quickly reached for his phone, calling the one person he knew would calm him down.
"Hey baby, how's the race going?"
"Z, she's here," Tom rushed out as he maneuvered between the never ending sea of people to a quite place- well as quite as it can get in Monaco during a formula 1 race.
"What? Who's here?"
"Darling! She's here!"
"Darling is a she?"
Gathering her thoughts Zendaya left the lounge area of her hotel suite, dismissing the makeup artists and stylists with a smile and wave of her hand before entering the bedroom within the suite.
"Okay, okay, calm down baby," Zendaya spoke as she ran her hand through her hair "how about you go talk to her, yeah?"
"I can't, oh my god, what if she doesn't even feel the same pull- it's a stupid way to describe it but you know that's how I felt when I met you and it's the same but so much worse cause you're not here with me and I can't do this-"
"Honey, calm down, it's okay, let's take it step by step, did you check her wrist?" Being met with silence worried the tall girl, she knew how it might come off to him when she was basically asking him to check actual evidence and not take his feelings too seriously "I know your feelings, I get that, I felt the same with you, but it's better to be safe than sorry."
"Yeah, yeah," shuffling was heard before Tom apologies for, what zendaya assumed, pumping into someone "no, yeah, you're right, stay with me on the line, I'm going to try and see. She's wearing a sleeveless dress so that will make it easier."
Even though she didn't want to spoil it for herself, she wanted to get 100% of the awe and the fondness for herself, Zendaya couldn't help but ask "what does she look like?"
"So beautiful, Z" the way Tom spoke, the breathlessness and amazement in his voice made her want to cry, she wanted to be there, she wanted to be with him when they first saw her, that's how they always envisioned it.
"Okay, so I checked, and oh my god it's there, it's the same Z, what am I supposed to do, oh my god"
"Here's what you're going to do, you're going to tell her right now!"
"There are like 100 people around, how am I supposed to do that!"
"I don't know tom, tell her you wanna speak to her or something, make it up!"
"I can't do this, I can't, I am freaking out!"
"Oh my god, you're an actor, pretend it's a scene"
"Will you be able to pretend?"
"Well no, but I'm not the one that can see her, am I!"
"Okay, okay, deep breaths, I am going to tell her with you on the phone, alright?" Tom said as he started moving towards the blonde, his confidence building up with his taller soulmate cheering him on through the phone
"Holy shit" and there goes the little confidence he had
"What? Tom! Answer me! Is she dating someone, I swear to god if she is-"
"No, no, she's not," looking back at his soulmate "at least I don't think she is. God, there's no way I am telling her shit now."
"Why not?"
"Her brother can literally run me over with his small rocketship of a car! I am not doing anything when he is literally two centimetres away from her!"
What Tom failed to realise was how Christian Horner had joined the pair of siblings, telling Max and Yn of his earlier observations, which made all three of them look at the young brit in sync.
"Um, Z, I think we won't have to worry about me telling her."
CH.III
{taglist: @celesteblack08 @minkyungseokie @woozarts @keii134 @celesteblack08 @sainzluvrr @fangirl125reader}
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bambisworlds · 1 month ago
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there's a man in the woods (1)
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part two
(sorry for the long synopsis)
rhysand, azriel, and cassian were blessed by the cauldron with a mate. although, the circumstances were never seen before. the three males each had a mate, and it turned out to be the same female they were each bound to; bambi. they had spent months trying to track down the female that had been haunting their dreams and they finally did. she was tamlin's "mate". he had somehow discovered bambi was the rhysand's mate, so he took her as his own lover to spite him. tamlin still blamed rhysand for the death of his true mate, rhysand's sister. however, this plan to get back at rhysand was short lived seeing as the bat boys showed up and took her to the night court with them, leaving tamlin in their dust. pissed that he no longer had the upper hand, tamlin snuck into the night court and kidnapped bambi (1,917 word count)
content warnings, mdni 18+
f!reader, bambi!oc, little!reader, oc age regresses to 6 years old, ddlg dynamics, established relationship, poly!batboys x oc, caregiver!batboys, protective!batboys, azriel's pretty unhinged, friend!mor, protective!mor, amren being her usual self, use of "Daddy", kidnapping, violence, evil!tamlin (are we surprised), tamlin is a hot mess let's just be real, let me know if i forgot anything x (also if i misrepresent age regression or common aspects of ddlg relationships pls let me know, i'm still learning)
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Quickly after Bambi was brought to The Night Court she became the princess of the household. The Bat Boys were utterly obsessed with her, bending over backwards to please her or simply make her smile. But, naturally, when Bambi first arrived at the townhouse she was hesitant. She had been under the impression that Tamlin was her mate. However, she didn't love Tamlin like she thought she should. Something was missing. Turns out, the thing missing was a mating bond.
It took a handful of weeks for Bambi to come out of her shell around the Inner Circle. The first week consisted of her mainly being around Mor. The Bat Boys primal instincts were out of control, so Mor basically banned them to The House of Wind until they got their shit together so they wouldn't petrify Bambi.
It didn't take long for Mor to notice that there was something different about Bambi. From time to time she went quiet, and when she did speak her words lacked her usual sophisticated vocabulary. Then, after she grew more comfortable with Mor, Bambi would grow bolder, and more fussy, than usual during these spells. Mor confided in Madja as to what could explain her behavior, and she described it in medical terminology. But the common name was "little space". So, naturally, she reported this information to The Bat Boys.
Azriel spent 8 hours in the library after Mor informed him about Bambi's coping mechanism, wanting to learn everything he could so he could offer the support and care Bambi needed. After feeling satisfied with his newfound knowledge, he presented it to Rhysand and Cassian. Cassian struggled at first to grasp the concept, but with further education by Rhysand and Azriel, he understood why Bambi age regressed from time to time and wanted to support her the best way he could.
Now, after nearly a year together, The Bat Boys were experts on Bambi. They tended to her every need with unquestionable skill. They knew what she needed when she needed it without having to ask. They moved as one, taking care of her as a team.
But, the three males still had to attend to their responsibilities as High Lord, Commander of the Night Court's Armies, and as Spymaster. So, they couldn't be with Bambi 24/7. When they were busy, they assigned Mor to her. They tried having Amren look after Bambi, but it just resulted in Bambi coming home in tears because Amren made fun of her plushies and kept beating her at checkers (everyone else always let her win). From then on Bambi was always entrusted to Mor's care when they were unavailable.
Today was like any other day. Mor had taken Bambi to walk through the shops. Bambi wasn't feeling little today, but she was still easily distracted and forgetful so Mor accompanied her on her shopping trip. Plus, the entirety of the Inner Circle was overprotective of Bambi. Even Amren, at times. While Mor was finishing up paying for a new bracelet Bambi selected, Bambi wandered down a few stalls to look at pastries. She was about to flag Mor down to buy some when a large hand wrapped around her hand and began to drag her down the busy streets.
Mor searched the shopping stalls for hours in search of Bambi when she couldn't find Bambi's familiar blonde hair among the mass of people. After coming up empty-handed and beginning to panic, she returned to the townhouse to tell The Bat Boys.
"You. Did. What?" Cassian spits.
"How did you manage to lose her?" Rhysand demands, resting his hands on his hips. The moment Mor entered the townhouse without Bambi Azriel's shadows disappeared, already searching for her.
"She is quite small," Amren says from the chair she was in, filing her nails. Cassian scoffs at her lack of urgency.
"You know I would never let anything happen to her," Mor says, growing defensive, "I turned for 5 seconds and she... disappeared." Mor sighed, "I've searched every street in Velaris. She's not in The Night Court," she conceded. Mor looked over at Azriel warily, he was painfully quiet, "Az say something."
Azriel bristled, his hands curling into fists, "Do you have any idea how frightened she'll be when it gets dark outside?" he said lowly, glaring at Mor.
"She wouldn't just wander off like that," Cassian says, "She knows not to go anywhere without us. Besides, everyone in Velaris knows she's our mate. She could ask practically anyone for help and they would bring her to us."
"Then someone must've taken her," Azriel practically growls, his siphons glowing ominously.
"Who would do that? We're on good terms with all the Courts," Mor implored, "Besides..." she trails off. Azriel's eyes snap up to Mor's face before he begins to storm towards the front door of the townhouse.
"Azriel wait, we can't do anything rash," Rhysand tries to reason, winnowing in front of him to block his path, "If Tamlin has her we need to be careful, he's unstable and unpredictable. We can't just go blazing into his court without expecting resistance."
"I welcome resistance, Truthteller hasn't gotten dirty in a while," Azriel threatened, his tone deadly.
"I'm in full support of blazing in there. I'll cut his head off before he can do shit," Cassian says, cracking his knuckles.
Rhysand sighs and rubs his forehead in agitation, "It would be nice to not always be the only reasonable one here for once," he mutters to himself before looking back up at The Inner Circle, "Let me try to reach her first, so we can see what we're up against."
"You haven't tried to reach her yet?" Cassian demands, clearly angry that Rhysand hadn't tried to use his daemati abilities yet.
"I've been preoccupied trying to stop you from destroying another court," Rhysand seethes. "Just... give me a moment," Rhysand sighs and sits down on one of the plush sofas in the room. Amren continued to file her nails, glancing up at Rhysand with slight interest. Rhysand focused, his mind reaching out in search of Bambi's. He knew her signature like the back of his hand, usually, he could slip into her mind without a bit of effort, but today he couldn't, "She's far away," Rhysand mutters, shifting uncomfortably in the chair as he strains to reach out farther with his mind.
Azriel began to fidget as the minutes passed, the tick of the father clock breaking the silence. Cassian sat on the sofa opposite of Rhysand, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at The High Lord, trying to decipher if he had found something while Azriel began to pace like a caged animal. Mor remained in the entryway of the living area, biting her nails anxiously as she watched Rhysand.
"There," Rhysand whispers as he finally feels Bambi's familiar energy throughout the sea of minds he had shuffled through. Azriel stops pacing and turns to look at Rhysand, while Cassian perks up in his seat. "I found her," Rhysand says breathily, "Darling, can you hear me?" Rhysand speaks into Bambi's mind, separated by miles. One of the first things Rhysand taught Bambi was how to speak with him telepathically, in case they would need it for times like these. Plus, he enjoyed having access to her mind whenever he wanted.
"Daddy?" she answers, her voice faint and echoey. Rhysand smiles to himself at the sound of her voice. He could barely make out her words due to the distance between them, but that didn't make hearing her any less comforting.
"I need you to tell me where you are. Do you know where you are sweetheart?" Rhysand asks telepathically, his tone gentle. It was obvious to Rhysand that Bambi was in little space, likely due to the fear and anxiety of the situation she was in. Azriel, Cassian, and Mor stared at Rhysand, practically unblinking, as they waited for any new information.
"S'hard," she says, her voice small, echoing in his mind. Rhysand knew she struggled to use her daemati abilities more than usual when in little space. She lost focus easily and struggled to remember what Rhysand had taught her to do. Plus, it was taxing on the mind and could easily exhaust her.
"I know little one, but I need you to try really hard for Daddy so I can come get you," Rhysand said gently, "Now, can you tell me where you are?" A few moments passed and Rhysand waited anxiously.
"Tamlin," is all Bambi managed to slip into Rhysand's mind. That was all the confirmation he needed.
"Sit tight, Daddy's coming for you, okay? Azzy, Cass, and I will be there soon." Rhysand says before cutting off his connection with Bambi, but leaving a window open in his mind so she could reach him if she needed. "She's with Tamlin," Rhysand says firmly, rising from his seat abruptly.
"Is she alright?" Cassian demanded, rising to his feet as well.
"Not entirely. She's little right now, which will make it harder to get her home safely." Rhysand says, "But she knows we're coming. Hopefully, that will bring her comfort."
Across Prythian, Bambi was sitting timidly at Tamlin's dining table as he poured her a glass of wine. Rhysand's voice was bouncing around her mind, "I know little one, but I need you to try really hard for Daddy so I can come find you. Now, can you tell me where you are?"
"Isn't this nice? Us being back together again?" Tamlin asks as he pushes the goblet closer to Bambi. She didn't reach for it, "That's fine faerie wine, you can at least pretend to look grateful." he scoffs, taking a sip from his glass.
Bambi was too focused on using her daemati skills to register Tamlin's words, straining as she tried to respond to Rhysand mentally, "Tamlin," she managed to transfer the singular word into Rhysand's mind. She let out a heavy breath, sinking into her chair once she managed to do so. Tamlin set down his goblet on the table with a thud.
"Did you just tell Rhysand something?" he demands and Bambi looks down at her lap, "Hey!" he snaps, grabbing her chin so she makes eye contact with him, "What did you tell him?" Tamlin growls, "Tell me! What did you tell him!" Tamlin demands and Bambi flinches with a slight whimper.
"I-I told him where I am," she says shakily, looking up at Tamlin anxiously as she waits for his reaction.
"Fuck!" Tamlin bellows, throwing his goblet onto the ground, causing it to shatter. "Why can't one fucking thing ever go to plan!" he shouts, throwing a chair against the wall next. Bambi flinched with each loud noise, fidgeting with the fabric of her dress to try to focus on the smooth silk instead of the danger around her.
"Sit tight, Daddy's coming for you, okay? Azzy, Cass, and I will be there soon." Rhysand's voice echoes in Bambi's mind and she stills, glancing up at Tamlin. Tamlin panted, resting his hands on his hips as he finally stopped throwing things around.
He looked over at Bambi, noticing her gaze on him, "What?" he spits.
"You should run," Bambi says simply, before focusing back on the fabric of her dress. Tamlin bristled slightly from her words.
Moments later Lucien walked into the dining room, his good eye scanning over the mess around the room before landing on Bambi. Lucien sighs at the sight of her, looking over at Tamlin, "Have you gone mad?"
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if you have any requests including the people on my masterlist please comment them below or on my masterlist!! (check here: about my blog  to see what things i'm not comfortable with in regards to requests <3)
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bee-the-loser-recs · 6 months ago
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~~~☼ My Joshua One-shot Fic Recs ☼~~~
𖤓 Amortentia; Honeydukes lover By @http-mianhae 16.7k, Hogwarts au, Slytherin reader, Hufflepuff Joshua, reader has trauma, cold reader, lovesick Joshua, themes of sexual assault
𖤓 Boyfriends By @milfgyuu 2.7k, reader is in a toxic relationship, domestic abuse, Joshua is their safe space, fluff, angst, pining, friends to lovers, comfort
𖤓 New By @luvidzy 2.1k, slice of life au, fluff, slight angst, long term mutual pining, stargazing, Joshua is moving away
𖤓 Winning team By @viastro 1.4k, slice of life au, capture the flag game with nerf guns, hidden relationship, fluff, kisses, competitive nature, cute
𖤓 In a span of three months By @viastro 20.3k, terminally ill reader, mentions of depression, suicidal thoughts, Joshua finds joy in life again, falling in love, only 3 months left to live, sobbing, major character death, it's so sad
𖤓 Wildest dreams By @viastro 6.7k, getting married for 24hours, best friends to lovers, fluff, getting free benefits, cute relationship, fake dating kind of
𖤓 Birds of a feather By @onlymingyus 14.3k, college au, smut, fluff, reader going around with a petition, strangers to lovers, crack, hot tub scene, talks of further dates, alcohol and drug use, simp!Joshua, cuties, very fun
𖤓 To you By @onlymingyus 15k, Joshua x reader x DK, college au, art students DK & reader, med-student Joshua, monogamy to polyamory, fluff, smut, angst, cute relationship, going on holiday together, relationship discussions, mild jealousy
𖤓 Love they neighbour By @onlyhuis 5.1k, college au, friends with benefits situation, fwb to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, smut, idiots in love, happy ending
𖤓 Cranberry concoctions By @onlyhuis 4.6k, 1920s au, bartender Joshua, smut, fluff, slight angst, mentions of bartender Vernon, jealousy, speakeasy au
𖤓 Mr Nice guy By @toruro 5.3k, neighbours au, moving into a new apartment, fluff, smut, strangers to lovers
𖤓 Isohel By @toruro 26.2k, modern royalty au, prince Joshua, florist/botanist reader, slow burn, developing feelings, slut shaming, fluff, angst, references to Greek mythology, literally so stunning to read [alternate ending if you want to read it as well 00:00]
𖤓 Fighting for your love By @rubyreduji 5.5k, Jeonghan x reader x Joshua, boxer au, competing for reader's attention, physical fight for love, threesome, smut, fluff, poly situation
𖤓 Thinking Joshua is just nice but he has a crush on you By @kimbappykidding Idol au kind of, friends to lovers, pining, noticing secret looks, best friends Vernon & Seungkwan, entire group ships them, fluff, love confessions
𖤓 Shipped By @suhnshinehaos SMAU, university au, teacher Joshua & reader, students shipping them, revelation of feelings, fluffy and cute
𖤓 Oceans & Engines By @renjunphile 15.2k, ex lovers to lovers au, idol Joshua, music producer reader, based on songs from Niki, fluff, slight angst, literally so good omg
𖤓 Splashed By @smileysuh 5.5k, Joshua x reader x Jeonghan, idol au, references to the 13 shadows going seventeen episode, smut, poly relationship, fluff, established relationship
𖤓 Beautiful day, Sunday morning By @sluttywoozi 7k, non-specified au, mutual pining, friends to lovers, being in love, smut, fluff, pasta and puzzle dates, hopelessly in love
𖤓 Under the rose By @just-come-baek 6k, historical au like 1950s?, childhood frenemies to lovers, reader calls him Jisoo to piss him off, smut, fluff
𖤓 Hoax By @lovelyhan 18.6k, gangster/mafia Joshua, strangers to lovers, falling in love, hostess reader, loan sharks mentioned, reader is in trouble & debt, angst, smut, slight fluff, reader is left behind
𖤓 Eyes meeting, hearts apart By @lovelyhan 30.2k, fantasy au, prince Joshua with plant magic, bartender reader with ice magic, fluff, angst, royalty, requited unrequited love, part of a series of one-shots
𖤓 An interview with an angel By @hannyoontify 2.5k, reporter Joshua, nationalist fencer reader, being late to important events, meet cutes, fluff, slight panic attack, flirting
𖤓 So beautiful By @blue-jisungs 3.8k, Atla au, water bender Joshua, Prince Joshua, army general reader, assassination attempt, fluff, angst, mentions of war and killings
𖤓 Envy By @berriesandjunnie 1.9k, idol au, idol Joshua & reader, jealousy surrounding his members, comebacks, fluff, slight angst, some insecurity
𖤓 Prove it you won't By @leejungchans 19k, tattoo artist Joshua, nurse reader with tattoos, fluff, angst, miscommunication, past breakups, humour, slowburn, flirty behaviour, adorableness
𖤓 Cast me in a better light By @seungkwansphd 5.9k, musical au, band member reader x cast member Joshua, fluff, karaoke, coffee dates, becoming closer
𖤓 Fade into you By @writingmingyu 4.8k, childhood friends to online friends to lovers, fluff, meeting again after years, autumn fair dates
𖤓 Curse the stars By @shuadotcom 8.4k, 70s au, Hollywood, actor reader, washing machine salesman Joshua, strangers to lovers, fwb to lovers, mentions of dynamics, fluff, smut
𖤓 Stay till sunrise By @shuadotcom 9.1k, Joshua x reader x Mingyu, unspecified au, non-idol au, confessions, pining, poly situation, fluff, smut, bets on when they would date
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godihatethiswebsite · 7 months ago
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Call of Duty
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✽ Writings cross-posted on Ao3
Series
✽ Desert Oasis - Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x f!reader
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(The Mummy AU) When you stumble upon a small metal object engraved with the name of a fabled lost city, suddenly the legend you grew up hearing stories about becomes rooted in more than just fantasy. Arm in arm with your cousin Kyle - and with the help of his old comrade turned treasure hunter whose eyes you can't seem to resist - you venture into the Sahara in search of the truth. But when the truth comes at the cost of humanity's future, will the three of you be enough to keep an ancient curse at bay? Original Concept︱Part One︱Part Two︱Part Three︱Part Four︱Part Five︱Part Six︱Part Seven︱Part Eight︱Part Nine︱Part Ten
✽ Tethered Bonds - Poly 141 x f!reader
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(Omegaverse AU) A lucky stroke of fate led you right into the arms of your alpha soulmates. But is it everything you dreamed it would be or just the continuation of a nightmare? Spotify Playlist Part One︱Part Two︱Part Three︱Part Four︱Part Five
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One Shots
✽ Mourning Doves - Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x f!reader
Johnny provides you with some comfort after your favorite hockey team loses
✽ Everything's Perfect - Simon 'Ghost' Riley x f!reader
You find yourself learning a painful lesson in futility when a possessive romance becomes too stifling
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Drabbles/Imagines
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
✽ Autumn in the Highlands
Simon "Ghost" Riley
✽ Hot Cocoa
Task Force 141
✽ No Nut November
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wasawattpadkid · 2 years ago
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Housewife
Part - 6
Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?
Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader
Warnings for this series: ⚠️ explicit 18+ ⚠️ murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, oral fem!receiving, borderline degradation, orgasm dinial, bondage (hands being bound), blatant Billy x Stu stuff
Part 1
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Stu pressed his face into Billy's shoulder running from the sunlight. "It's too early." He whined pulling his friend closer to him. Billy held him for a moment forgetting where they were. "Shit, where is she?" He pushed Stu away pulling the covers off himself. Stu dragged a pillow over his head hoping to drown out the light. Billy got out of bed heading down the stairs to the kitchen. The smell of food filled the air hitting him the moment he left your room.
"Morning sleepy head. How do you like your eggs?" You smiled at his current state. His hair was messy and his eyes were dark with sleep. "Uh over medium?" 'This couldn't be real' he thought to himself. It was all adding up now the house, the absent parents, you, it wasn't real. Some really realistic and very long dream. Maybe he was in a coma? If you were real you'd be almost as fucked up as him.
"Did you know you snore just a tiny bit?" You asked as you flipped his eggs. "I don't snore. Must've been Stu." He took a drink of the prefilled glass of orange juice in front of him. "It was definitely you. I kept waking up with your face in my neck and your snores were really loud next to my ear." Was that embarrassment he was feeling? "Sorry about that." He paused thinking of his next words. "So you're not mad that we slept in bed with you?" Bacon, eggs, and a perfect pancake laid next to each other on the plate. You nodded thinking that would be enough.
"I told you if it got too cold you could climb in bed with me." You sat his plate down making sure to leave him syrup. "Can I have a second plate? I don't like my eggs to touch my other food." You raised your eyebrows with a nod. "Sure thing." You handed him a saucer plate that came with the set. "How much do you remember last night?" You remembered all of it. The little tired act you pulled was a sham. A test is what you'd call it. Luckily they passed. "Listen Billy, I don't care about whatever's going on between you and Stu. This doesn't change anything." Billy could laugh. "You think I'm a homo?" His face was plastered with a sort of dumbfounded expression. "No, I just think you're Billy."
"I'm not like that. Stu's always been the one to bat for both teams." You pursed your lips with a nod. "All I'm saying is, you don't have to lie or hide. We've all got secrets and I'm not going to judge you in the slightest." You were wrong. But Billy focused on the underlining meaning of all you said. "What if I told you I was psychotic?" Billy asked no sign of a joke. "I'd tell you I was too." He bit off a piece of bacon. "And what if I said I was a stalker?" You laughed. "Me too. When I walk by a classroom I know you or Stu's in I look for you both just to watch you for a second, that's stalker behavior."
Billy almost choked on his food. God you really were innocent. "What's so funny?" You said laughing along side him. "Okay... What if... I said I've murdered people." You frowned. Does he really think he's that bad? "You're not a murderer." You said as you poured syrup on your pancake. "I know, but if I was what would you say?" You actually thought about it. Four days you've known him now, that's not enough to constitute a prison sentence for harboring a fugitive. "There's a reason for everything. I'd ask you why you did it."
"There's not always a reason, a "motive." I mean did Norman Bates have a motive? Did they ever really decide why Hannibal Lector liked to eat people?" The food in your mouth didn't seem as good as before. "Your logic is flawed Billy. Norman killed his mother because she was abusive and neglectful when was a child. That's motive. He murdered every woman he found attractive because his Mother's personality would be jealous and she needed Norman all to herself. Motive. And he murdered that cop because he didn't want to be caught. Once again motive." Billy sat wide eyes staring at you.
"Oh and Hannibal Lector was also abused as a child. In the book it says his sister was killed by some men who had taken Hannibal and his sister captive. They murdered his sister in front of him and then cooked her eventually serving pieces of her to Hannibal. You could look at it like a revenge plot that's motive or later on he shows obvious signs of narcissism. He thinks he is above everyone so eating them really isn't a problem. We eat animals because we think our lives mean more right?" Billy just nodded.
"Okay so if Hannibal thinks he is better and his life means more than everyone around him then is it really even cannibalism to him? He's completely detached so that's also motive. He's simply hunting his next meal like we would a pig or a cow." You took a drink of your orange juice waiting for a response. Billy was speechless. "You're not the only one who knows stuff Billy." You spoke finishing off your food. "I'm beginning to realize that."
Stu finally came downstairs and he finished up everything that was left over from your talk with Billy. "Do you always cook like this?" Stu asked wiping his mouth with a napkin. You washed dishes as the boys sat at the table. "When my dad is home I do. I don't really need to fix a whole meal if I'm the only one here." That made Stu think of what it was like for you here all alone. He hated being home alone it was like he was 10 years old and scared of the dark. Every little noise would make him paranoid. It wasn't until Billy moved in that he felt safe. Maybe you just needed someone to make you feel safe?
Stu had pulled out the deck of cards begging you and Stu to play rummy with him. That was an hour ago. "She is kicking our asses." Stu said as you shuffled the cards again. "Ooh okay I've got a question. Do guys try to create fake scenarios before they go to bed?" Both boys looked confused as you dealt the cards. "Like girls, before we go to bed we'll think of our crush or an actor and we'll plan out our own little movie in our head." You grew uncomfortable with the fear you sounded insane. "I've fantasized about things before bed." Stu said and Billy nodded in agreement.
"No that's not the same thing. Like you and Tatum. Do you plan little dates and stuff like that in your head?" Stu made a "pfft" noise looking at Billy who was smiling. "He's never taken her on a date. They just run around together." Your jaw dropped. "I have got to tell her to raise her standards." Stu sat down his cards interested in the conversation. "Okay Ms. Crocker what are you standards? I'm guessing you're very Catholic." He laughed and you made a face at him.
"First of all the guy I'm with has to take me out every once in awhile. Bring me flowers, write me notes, anything really to show he still cares." Billy didn't believe that. You might want that in some romanticized version of them but you knew that it wasn't realistic. "I've known you for almost a week and I can already tell you fall in love with anyone who gives you 5 seconds of attention."
You acted shocked at the incredibly correct description of you. "Whatever. Can't a girl want someone to take her out and show her off? I'm a prize and I will be treated as such." Billy finished of his drink sitting the glass down with a click. "Until the first guy that comes along says he liked your outfit and then you're ready for marriage." You really couldn't argue with that. "Yeah pretty much."
"I'm bored. Winning time after time does get a little old." You said putting down your cards. "We could play truth or dare." Billy looked between you and Stu deciding to do whatever you wanted to do. Truth or dare was a kids game. One you were skilled at playing. "I'm game unless Billy's chicken." You elbowed him playfully. "I never say no to a game."
You and the boys moved to the living room floor. Stu laid on his stomach, his chin resting on his palms. Billy however was sat criss cross his posture straight and on edge. "You go first since it's your house." Stu suggested. "Um okay. Stu, truth or dare?" He kicked his feet in thought. "Dare." You hated thinking of dares it was the hardest part of the game.
"I dare you to put on lipstick." Billy breathed out a laugh. "Do I get to pick the color?" Stu asked not at all phased by the dare. "Sure let me go grab my makeup bag. You jumped up running to your bathroom. Just as fast you ran back to the living room. "I've got pink, red, maroon, black, and orange."
"I'm about to waste my turn on making you wear the black." Billy said, surprised you owned such a color. "I went through a phase." You laughed as Stu grabbed the red. You gave him the compact you brought in letting him slowly smear on the waxy pigment. "How do I look?" He flipped his imaginary long hair. "Actually you pull it off." You said staring at his lips for a little too long. "Billy, truth or dare?"
Billy looked at Stu not ready for him to pick a dare. "Truth." You once again saw a silent conversation playing across their eyes. "Have you ever made a sex tape?" Stu said looking his friend up and down. "I knew you'd eventually bring up sex." You huffed with a laugh. "I have not. I'm more of a picture man myself." Billy locked eyes with you making your cheeks grow hot. "Truth or dare Y/n?" You didn't feel at ease by picking either of those. Go big or go home was what your grandparents always said.
"Dare." Stu proceeded to make the "ooh" sound as if someone just got into trouble. "I dare you to play the rest of this game with your hands tied." If your face wasn't hot before it was burning now. "Now that's a dare baby!" Stu shouted kicking his feet like a school girl. You looked around the room for something to get the job done. You grabbed a scarf sitting on the end table by the couch. "Which one of you knows how to tie a knot?" Both boys volunteered but Billy was the one to actually do it. "Don't rip it, it's vintage." Billy rolled his eyes roughly tugging your arms towards him. His quickness in wrapping your wrists was making you wonder how many times he's done this before.
"There you are." He marveled at his work for a moment. You pulled back resting your bound hands in your lap. "My turn!" You cheered. "Wait, you're not going to try to get out of it? See if the knot is good?" Billy expected you to pull at the knot with your teeth just to show him you could. Thinking back to the little race you had at the mall you seemed like the type to try to show people up. That was one thing about you he didn't care for. "No? You told me to keep my hands tied for the rest of the game."
You saw his pupils dilate just a little. It was like catching lighting in a bottle to you. Billy liked the fact you mindlessly followed orders. You were a smart girl but you were dumb for him. "Truth or dare?" You asked Stu ready to continue the game. "Um... Hmm... Let me think?" His sarcasm made you bite your lip to stop from smiling. "Dare." You had one in mind already and it was hazardous. If this didn't go as planned it wouldn't be good for anyone in the room. On the flip side of that if this went how you were sure it would you three would be great friends from here on out.
"I dare you to sit on Billy's lap for the next round." Stu snapped his neck turning to Billy but the brooding boy kept his eyes on you. Billy wanted to know your angle. The reason you did things. You said it yourself everyone has a reason for doing something. What was yours? "Is that alright man?" Stu asked and Billy nodded with a huff. "Just get over here." Stu didn't need to be told twice. He mouthed a quick "thank you" making you smile. You saw Billy's eyes shut in what could be perceived as pain as Stu wiggled around trying to get comfortable. "Stop. Moving." Billy placed his hand on Stu's thigh keeping him still.
"It's my turn right?" Billy asked while he leaned back, one arm propping him up off the ground. "Sure is." Stu quipped. "Truth or dare?" At this point you'd look like a chicken if you said truth. "Dare." Billy's tongue swiped over his teeth before he spoke. "I want you and Stu-y here to make out." He smacked his friends back borderline hurting him. You didn't plan for that and by the looks of it neither did Stu. "I can't leave your lap remember?" The boy on his lap spoke. "You don't have to, she can crawl over." He spoke matter of factly. "I don't remember being dared anything." You challenged. "You said you wanted us to make out. That might say something about you but it's not a dare."
"You're a smartass." He spit playfully. "I dare you and Stu to make out. Is that better sweetheart?" Billy spoke the last word with a condescending tone. Which given the context, you'd pay to hear it again. "Perfect." You crawled over to the boys sitting back on the heels of your feet. Stu leaned down whispering an affirmation. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to." You weren't sure if the sudden sweet nature was because of where he was sitting or if it's always been there and you just haven't noticed.
A silent nod was all he needed to press his lips against yours. Stu was scared to move. He had that feeling you only get when you're about to drop off the highest spot on a rollercoaster. He wasn't quite sure where to go from here. You moved your lips against his showing him you were okay. Gently his hand cupped your jaw the same way he did with Tatum the other night. This wasn't commanding however he was simply holding you in the best way he could. Billy grunted as Stu's hips began to move again subconsciously.
The polite kisses became hungry as he pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth. A soft moan could be heard coming from you. Billy had seen enough. He grabbed his friends shoulders pulling him back. You caught your breath as you looked at the ground. Stu's face was bright crimson in embarrassment but Billy couldn't ignore the love drunk expression on his partners face. You were done playing truth or dare. "Can you untie me?" You held out your hands towards Billy trying to ignore the obvious tent in his pants. Slowly he made his way over to you crawling like a predator stalking it's prey.
"No, the dare was you had to keep them tied till the end of the game." You shook your head with an awkward laugh. "Well truth or dare is over." His face was a breath away from yours. "You're right but our game isn't over." Stu watched as Billy pressed his lips onto yours. You picked up right where you left off with Stu. In a way the short haired boy felt cheated on. He felt he went through a whole relationship with you in that one little kiss and now he watched his best friend take what was never his to begin with.
Billy hovered over you as he laid you back against the floor. Pulling his lips away he noticed how every single person here had rid lipstick smeared along thier face. "Stu come here, I need your help." You turned your head watching your friend fumble over towards the both of you. "Keep her busy like you were earlier. Can you do that for me baby?" Billy asked as his hand held Stu's chin. He nodded earning a gentle tap on the cheek from his friend. "Good boy." You watched their whole dynamic change right in front of you. Suddenly all Billy had was pet names and Stu was practically silent.
Stu was waiting for something but he wasn't sure what. "Please..." You whispered pushing him a step further. He leaned his head down kissing your neck. Softly at first leaving a small trail of kisses across your collarbones. Then he began licking and sucking at the skin trying not to leave a mark. Small sounds fought their way up your throat presenting themself like a gift from God to Stu. You really didn't care where Billy went as long as Stu continued what he was doing.
He nibbled at your earlobe forcing you to rub your thighs together. You barley felt your shorts being slipped down your legs. Little kisses began at your ankles slowly trailing up your legs. The higher they got the sloppier they became. "You're not even trying to win the game." Billy shook his head expecting more from you. "What.. are the rules?" You moaned out Stu now marking up your chest. With a laugh Billy said, "You know I hadn't even thought about that." God he was a prick and you were a horrible person for thinking it made him hotter.
Stu lifted your top pulling it above your breasts. "You're so pretty..." He said without thought. Somehow that word meant more than all the other words in that moment. "You're not too bad yourself handsome." He looked at the floor with a big grin on his face. With a quick shake of his head he went back to work. Your tied up hands played with his hair as he swirled his tounge around your hot skin. Billy ran a finger up the middle of your panties, the unexpected feeling making your hips jolt. "Guess foreplay really does work." Your head tossed back with a suffocated moan as Stu tugged gently at your nipples. One being teased by his teeth just to be soothed by his tounge seconds later.
Billy squatted next to Stu just watching your face contort in pleasure. "If you weren't such a prude I could totally see you as one of those Victoria's Secret models." He spoke running his hand along your cheek. Billy grabbed the back of Stu's shirt peeling him off of you to your dissatisfaction. "Why don't you show her your hidden talent hmm?" The sinister smile on Stu face made your stomach twist and pussy throb. Billy stayed next to you watching as Stu pulled off your panties. "Toss em'." Billy spoke catching the underwear after his friend pitched them. He waved the damp fabric above you. "How important are these to you?" Stu began kissing and biting your thighs not leaving much room for you to talk. "You can have them!" You blurted as your hands tugged at Stu's hair. "That's sweet of you. I was going to take them anyways but thanks for the permission."
Stu ran his long tongue up your folds making the world stop for a second. His hands pulled your thighs further apart giving him more room to work. "His tongue is by far one of my favorite things about him." Billy's finger traced your throat slowly making his way to your breasts. He pinched your nipple between his fingers making your back arch up off the ground. "Fuck!" You cried and Billy smiled. Your grip on Stu's hair became almost painful but he couldn't care less.
Your thighs wrapped around his face as you crossed your ankles on his back. "Don't kill him, I need him for this next part." Billy laughed. His thumb pulled at your lip debating on where all this should go. "Stu! Babe, please! Don't stop. Seriously don't fucking move just keep doing that." Your fear of that building pleasure disappearing was recognized by everyone in the room. "Stu stop." Billy commanded and you gave him a crazed look. "Please don't I'm begging you." Stu's eyes looked up between the both of you not sure who to obey. "Baby I mean it. Stop." The pressure was gone and so was any sort of happiness. "I'm going to kill you." You spat at the men.
"You're really scary." Billy scoffed waving at Stu to come over to him. Without any sort of warning to either you or Stu, Billy pressed his lips against the boy's. Billy's tongue swirled around tasting you secondhand. Your brain was fried. You were not longer mad but you were sure to explode. A knock came at the front door scaring the shit out of you and Stu. "Oh for fuck's sake." Billy groaned pushing his friend back.
"Y/n?" At that voice Billy's face grew pale. "Stu help her with her clothes now." You wanted to cry. "Why the fuck are they here?" Stu whispered everyone panicking at the same time. "Please open up!" Sydney called out as Tatum continued banging on the door. Once you had your clothes on the two boys ran towards the stairs. "Shit my hands you idiots!" You whisper yelled making Billy run to you quickly untying the knots. "You've got lipstick all over you." Billy said smiling at the markings. "God damnit!" You ran upstairs grabbing a makeup wipe off your desk. You frantically rubbed your neck running back downstairs. "Here." Billy said snatching the wipe from you. He wiped the color from your face making sure to get most of it off your chest. "Better?" You asked. "It's gone." With a smack on your ass, Billy ran up to your room following Stu. You reeked of sex and you looked like it too.
"Coming!" You yelled running around trying to find something to spray the air with. Air freshener filled the room and thankfully covered you. Quickly you fixed your hair and opened the door. "Yeah?" Tatum pushed past you walking into the living room where a horrible display of debauchery had just occurred. "Okay." You said as Sydney followed her friend. "The killer called me last night." Sydney said on the brink of tears. "He's a fucking psychopath. He told her he'd kill her like he killed her mother." Tatum said, quickly apologizing to Sydney for the graphic rehash.
Billy and Stu stood there completely taken aback. "I thought you said you had to plan around this!" Stu snapped. "We did- we do! Why would you call Syd last night? Are you that fucking dumb?" Billy poked Stu understandably pissed about being blindsided by his best friend. "I went to sleep last night unlike you. Don't blame this shit on me because it backfired." They argued back and forth while you talked to the girls downstairs. "Okay so what do we do?" You asked hoping for a good answer. "You could stay at my place till this bastard's caught. My mom doesn't want you staying here by yourself."
You sat your head in your hands ready to cry. You didn't know what to do or who to trust. "I couldn't intrude like that." You said as Sydney sat down next to you on the couch. More so you didn't know what to do with the two men stashed in your bedroom. "That's crazy. We'd rather have you intrude than be murdered." Sydney said resting her hand on your knee. Tatum just nodded. "We're not taking no for an answer." The blonde said.
"I'll meet you all over at your place. I've got some stuff to do before I go." You shouted down the stairs hearing the front door close behind them. "What's going on?" Billy played dumb. "There's a serial killer running around that's what. You two need to get home and stay safe." You grabbed a bag from your closet packing clothes. "Where are you going?" Stu asked a little sad at the outcome of today. "I'm going to Tatum's place for a bit." Billy and Stu just stood there watching you angrily pack away your things. This was their fault. You were scared because of them. It genuinely made them both feel like shit.
"There's a spare key under the rock in the flower pot outside. Get your car and make sure to lock the place up when you leave." You didn't mean to be short with them or make them think you were mad. You enjoyed your time with them but you realized after they ran off and hid that this wasn't real. You had romanticized another situation that would never in a million years be real.
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Part 7
Taglist: @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @bluedevilss @life-of-music3 @blkroyalty1 @littleblondesoprano @imobsessedreader @knifes0ldier @nicciekawegosblog
(If your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)
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girlboypersonthingy · 8 months ago
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Can I request something really fluffy Chaggie x female reader? I love them and refuse to separate them.
Yes yes yes! I love them and I love you too anon. Lovely idea, I love me some poly lesbians from hell ❤️‍🔥 thanks for requesting! Just an update for yall: still at like 40 reqs bc every time I post one, I get at least one new one to replace it 😮‍💨 so thanks for being patient! And as always, enjoy~
Notes: implied fem!reader, sorry this is short :(
TW: none really, just a lot of fluff
Chaggie x fem!reader ❤️🖤💜
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Literally the devil and the angel on your shoulders…😈😇
And they often swap roles- sometimes Charlie is the angel offering wise advice while Vaggie is the devil telling you to just go crazy. Other times, Charlie is the devil talking you into doing ridiculous shit while Vaggie tries to hold you back and talk some sense into you,
What can I say, they’re both switches 😉
You really are in a great polyamorous relationship with these two tho, so full of trust and communication. It’s quite easy actually
You have two girls who love each other and you so deeply that there’s never even any talk about boundaries- you do things as a unit, as a team and somehow, you guys bond so well and rarely bicker
Charlie is always the one to lift your spirits and cheer you on and support your dreams all the way and baby you whether you win or lose.
Vaggie is always the one to bail you out of tough situations and comfort you when things don’t go right and offer you really really great advice and words of affirmation.
Bruh, they’re just so so sweet
SLEEPING IN THE SAME BED ALL TOGETHER EVERY SINGLE NIGHT AHH 💗
Vaggie definitely has to be on one of the edges of the bed, Charlie totally doesn’t mind being on the edge or in the middle so you can choose where you want to be!
They both love to cuddle and they don’t care what position, as long as everyone is included. You wanna be the big spoon? Cool. You wanna be in the middle? Go for it! Wanna lay over both their laps? Do it!
BEWARE: Charlie talks in her sleep and Vaggie occasionally kicks and flails when she has bad dreams lol
You and Charlie definitely stay up until like 4 am some nights, laughing and snacking and watching silly videos online and keeping Vaggie up 😋
Vaggie likes to teach you and Charlie how to defend yourselves- idk I feel like Vaggie would work out often, like at least some yoga in the morning and then like practice sparring ya know? So she likes to spend time with her girls while play fighting and learning together
They’re both very protective of you- they’ve seen a lot of shit down here, Vaggie has seen how tough it can be to be in heaven too.
Walking down the streets of hell, you’ll have Charlie holding your hand or linking arms with you just to keep you close and keep the other sinners away.
Vaggie is your scary guard dog following right behind you two as she looks back and forth, glaring at any sinners who look at you guys for too long.
Often times, they turn to you for advice and comfort too.
Charlie comes crying to you and Vaggie when she’s dwelling in the thought of her mom
Vaggie comes stomping up to you and Charlie, ranting and cussing in Spanish about Alastor pissing her off.
It’s just all very happy and cute and loving and supportive and open.
Never any fights
Only kisses and cuddles and play fights
Very sweet sapphic vibes all around
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soapssuds · 8 months ago
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Hailo ^^. How you doin? For the request can I please have poly yandere Black Swan and Acheron x gn reader headcanon?
Black Swan and Acheron, my two hot mommies that haven't left my team yet lol and I'm doing good! Thanks for asking <3
Warnings | poly relationship, Yan!Black Swan x Reader, Yan!Acheron x Reader, kind of a short story in headcanon style, grammatical errors, etc.
It all started ... with a dance.
You thought nothing of it at first when a beautiful lady held her hand out to you.
Though, it did startle you when she introduced herself as a memokeeper.
"Black Swan"
She said her name was.
And when she pulled you into a dance effortlessly so, you had yo desperately fight the the red hot fire that you felt on your cheeks, ears, neck.
She asked if you were ok, saying how you looked a bit flushed.
You blamed it on the heat in the ballroom. (That was lie, you were just embarrassed on how such a beautiful lady was dancing with you.)
"May I join in as well?"
You felt a gentle yet firm hand fit and mold itself against your hip and pill you into another embrace.
'I must be dreaming,' was what you thought as another beautiful lady took you into her arms.
She introduced herself as Acheron.
And throughout the dance, you couldn't help but to notice you had two dance partners instead of one, and it became obvious that the two new each other.
Were they friends? Maybe something more?
You couldn't dwell on it for long as the dance got faster, rougher. You couldn't deny the fast beating of your heart.
You couldn't deny the feel of a blade pressing against your neck despite one not being there.
You couldn't deny that the dance was something more than what meets the eye.
And the moment the song ended, you were held in a dip.
Acheron's arm held you perfectly still as Black Swan was knelt on the ground kissing your outstretched hand.
"Simply beautiful. No matter how many dances we chase you in, you always know how to mesmerize us"
"How many ... how many dances you chase me in?"
"Oh dear," Black Swan said, a teasing smile gracing her lips as she got up from her knelt position. Achero. Swiftly following suit as she pulled you up into a standing position.
"It seems our dear lover here has a even worse memory than you, Acheron."
Acheron moved a Stray hair from your face. Her fingers would graze your cheek, almost lovingly.
"Some say fear causes people to forget. Others say it's trauma."
Black Swan hummed in response as she held your hand, Acheron grabbing the other as they led you off the ballroom floor.
"I wonder...," Black Swan began, "is it fear or trauma that causes you forget?"
Your heartbeat quickened.
And Acheron spoke up next, "does it matter? We found her, so let's just start over again."
I did say it all started with a dance, didn't I? Who knew that it would end with one too, heh.
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lostintransist · 21 days ago
Text
Relationships Masterlist
If you are looking for a specific vibes check that masterlist here. Masterlist here.
Choose Your Own Adventure Poll
Please know any time you like or reblog something noted with a 🩶 I worry if you are doing okay.
Simon "Ghost" Riley X Reader
🩶Tears of Dreams and Memories
🩶It Was Almost Love | AO3
This Bunny Bites Masterlist
In and Of Itself
Captain John Price X Reader
Seamstress Masterlist
Ghoap X Reader
🩶Sacrifice Doesn’t Hurt Less if They Don’t Love You
Tomorrows From Before Masterlist
*This is the backstory that will absorb Sacrifice Doesn’t Hurt Less if They Don’t Love You. So I guess don't read that if you don't want spoilers?
Secrets Are For Grown Ups
Ghoap
Falling Into Step, While Falling Out Of Line
König X Reader
Chiseled Heart- No estimated release date
Gary "Roach" Sanderson X Reader
Fallen Angel Masterlist
Polyam, Relationships noted below links
Liaison 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 Complete story on AO3 (38/38)
Price X Reader, König X Reader, Simon X Reader
Fallen Angel Masterlist
Asexual reader, poly with team, but mostly romantic with Gary "Roach"
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xbellaxcarolinax · 1 year ago
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Hello!!! congratulations on 2k you absolutely deserve it! can I please request Miguel O'Hara with promt 29."touch me there. right there" with fem reader( for some extra spice maybe it's inexperienced Miguel learning how to touch the reader) thank you so much I love all of your work🖤
Shy
College AU!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Language, smut, fingering, shy Miguel.
Thank you for requesting! It's not very good but I hope you still enjoy it <3
...
Miguel was precious.
He had a tentative touch, his rough fingertips gliding over the smooth skin of your thigh, gently playing with the hem of your pleated baby-pink skirt.
He was kneeling at the edge of your bed, his body pressed between your legs as you leaned back on your elbows, watching him stew in his timidness. 
“Miggy,” you smiled, tilting your head a bit when his eyes flew to meet yours, pausing his little exploration, “it’s okay if you wanna stop.”
“Don’t wanna stop,” he grunted, quickly averting his eyes and focusing on the hidden treasure between your legs, the place he’d always wanted to touch but would never allow himself to. You let out a soft whine when he carefully messaged your legs, his calloused hands sending tiny jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You sighed, reaching out to run your fingers through Miguel’s thick hair.
“What about your roommate?” He asked suddenly, fiddling with your skirt, smoothing it out for modesty as if you both weren’t in the privacy of your bedroom. “Won’t she hear us?”
“She’s out with her boyfriend,” you assured him, “she won't be back till tomorrow, I promise.” That seemed to calm his nerves if only for a moment.
Miguel was shy, something that was both surprising and endearing.
He was captain of the university baseball team, a stellar student in biochemistry, beyond gorgeous, and highly desired. He was literally the entire package—every girl's (and guy's) dream.
And he was shy. Who would’ve thought?
He admitted to you on your first date that his experience with physical intimacy was limited. He’d always been too nervous, throwing himself into sports and school to avoid unwanted attention.
But then he met you—a pretty thing that sat next to him in Poly Sci. One look at you was enough to have his heart beating faster than it ever did on the playing field. And all you’d done was smile.
And, well, the rest was history.
After allowing him a gentle exploration of your thighs, you took his hand, pushing it under your tiny skirt and over your clothed cunt. He took in a breath, hissing when his fingers connected with the damp patch on your panties. You mewled when he brushed his fingers over it.
“Like that?” he asked you, pressing his thumb down over the patch when you nodded vigorously, biting your lower lip.
“Mhm,” you mewled, “K-keep going, you’re doing so well,” Miguel grunted at the praise, slowly peeling your skirt back to let it pool over your waist, revealing your silky panties. The damp spot stood out, and he couldn’t look away from the arousal that stained the delicate cloth. 
“You’re so wet,” he marveled, gently peeling it aside to glance at your glistening cunt. Your folds were swollen—hot, slick, and inviting. He hesitated, putting a finger over your entrance and gently swiping through your folds before pulling back to observe the slick that clung to his skin. He pressed it between his fingers, watching how it stretched apart like tiny webs.
And then suddenly, he brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue curling out to lap at your mess.
Your breathing quickened as you watched him curiously, his eyes fluttering as he savored the taste of you.
That was bold of him. Really bold. And you liked it.
“Mig,” you whined, making work of removing your panties, “please.” He pulled his fingers from his mouth, biting his lip when you brought your knees up, planting your feet firmly on your bed, and giving him a clear view of your pussy. 
“W-what should I do?” He stuttered, his cheeks burning in mortification but you only smiled at him, your eyes heavy as you moved to take his hand again, placing it over your sopping core.
“Touch me.” You whispered. 
It was a clumsy touch at first, his inexperienced fingers swirling around your slick till he pushed against your clit, making you gasp.
“Touch me there,” you moaned, chasing the ghost of his fingers, “right there." 
“Yeah?” Miguel’s confidence grew, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, ripping lovely little whimpers from you. 
“Mmm,” You mewled, your eyes fluttering shut as Miguel worked your clit. Your legs began to shake, and your cunt oozed more slick over his fingers. 
You could hear him take in a breath, a small whimper falling past his lips at the sight.
And then he stopped. You huffed, peering over your knees to look at him.
“Why’d you stop?” You whined, canting your hips up to get him to touch you again. He just looked at you, licked his lips, and prodded at your sensitive entrance with the tip of his middle finger. You moaned, feeling your cunt squeeze in anticipation.
“Can I…?” He questioned, and you nodded your head enthusiastically.
“Yes, yes, yes, in me, Miguel, please.” He gently traced your quivering hole before plunging his finger in, gently at first, but with your guidance, he began to pump into you eagerly, his finger completely coated in your creaminess.
“Add a-another finger,” you begged and Miguel complied, stretching your channel with his thick digits, “mm, yeah, just like that, fuck.”
“You like that?” Miguel breathed, his eyes roaming over your blissed-out face before locking on your weeping pussy, pushing his fingers deeper, “feels good?”
“Yesss,” you cried, fisting your sheets, “s’good."
He kept at it, sinking his fingers into your moist heat until your cunt clamped over them tightly, your body convulsing when your orgasm washed over you. You cried out, feeling Miguel's breath over your quivering pussy. 
“T-that was…” You were panting, chest heaving, failing to formulate words.
“Beautiful.” Miguel finished the sentiment for you, his eyes tracing over the juices coating his two fingers. He paused, pressing a quick kiss to your sensitive cunt before lapping your taste off his fingers.
“C’mere,” you dropped your legs, extending your hands so that he could fall into your arms. When he does, you feel his erection press against you through his sweatpants. “Your turn, Mig,” you reached down to cup him but he stopped you, burying his face into your neck.
“Tomorrow,” he mumbled into your skin, far too overwhelmed with how you fell apart for him, “you can have me tomorrow.”
“But my roommate will be home. Aren’t you worried about us making noise?”
“S’okay,” he said, holding you close, feeling his lashes tickle your skin, “you sound so pretty when you make noise.”
You smiled, pushing his head away from his hiding spot so that you could kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips.
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sxcret-garden · 1 year ago
Text
Jeno & Jaemin ღ Two makes a Team [M]
ღ NCT Dream Jeno & Jaemin x fem!reader ღ words: ~4k ღ genre: established poly-relationship AU, domestic fluff turned smut (dom!Jeno, dom!Jaemin, multiple orgasms, praise, some hair pulling, reader gets spanked once, nipple play, overstimulation, handjob, fingering, oral, spitroasting, unprotected sex) ღ warnings: (reader gets pulled by the hair)
Desc.: When both your boyfriends distract you by asking you for kisses, one thing leads to another and what you had planned to be some alone time with a good book turns into something even better…
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It’s a Sunday afternoon, a day you usually spend relaxing at home. You’ve made yourself comfortable on the couch, a blanket wrapped around your lap and a cup of tea placed on the coffee table in front of you. In your hands you’re holding a book that you’re about halfway finished with, and as your eyes are skimming through the many lines and pages, you’re so immersed in the story that you don’t notice someone approaching you.
“Y/N.” Only when he calls out to you softly, you take notice of him.
“Hmm?” you hum absentmindedly, as you register Jaemin sitting down next to you. Without taking your gaze off the book, you ask, “Is it important?”
“Veeery,” he answers, lazily dragging out the vowel, and he puts his arm on the backrest of the couch right behind you. He sits beside you, so close that you can feel his presence next to you, warmth radiating off of him. You tear yourself away from the page after finishing the next paragraph, turning your head to look at him. There’s sleepiness drooping from his eyelids, and you wonder if he just took a nap or if he pulled an all nighter yesterday.
“What is it?” you question, already beginning to dread what important thing he might have to tell you. “Is the stove acting up again? Did something break?” Jaemin shakes his head, a broad grin forming on his lips. “Then what?” you wonder out loud.
“It appears…” he begins, pausing dramatically, “that I am…” he adds another pause, lifting his chin a bit and making you raise an eyebrow at him, “in dire need of kisses.”
For a moment you’re speechless, because he really just needs to make something like that seem like a big deal, but then you remember it’s not the first time he’s being dramatic about wanting a kiss, so you sit back and relax your shoulders.
“And that’s what you needed to interrupt my precious reading time for?” you ask, feeling the corners of your mouth involuntarily rising up. “You’re so dumb,” you whisper, and before he can talk back at you in offense, you lean in and press your lips against his for a short peck. “Happy now?” you ask as you withdraw, already shifting your attention back to your book.
“That’s all?” he asks. “Is your boyfriend not worth more than a tiny peck?” He seems seriously offended, but when you see the playful spark in his eyes, you know he’s mostly joking around.
“Fine,” you give in. “I’ll give you a proper kiss if you let me read after that.”
“Hmmmm…” he pretends to consider your offer, pursing his lips, until eventually he agrees. “Alright.” Taking one hand off the book in your lap, you comb your fingers through his hair, resting your palm at the back of his neck eventually. As you lean in, you can see him smile at you, and the moment you lock lips with him, you feel him kissing you back. He lets you take the lead, moving his lips against yours at the unhurried pace you set, and giving you permission to deepen the kiss as soon as you slip your tongue past his teeth. When you pull away, breaking the kiss, he seems more than satisfied, but when you hear someone gasp from across the room, you both turn your heads in shock.
“Wait, why is he getting kisses?” Jeno complains from the other side of the living room, and you sigh, finding the jealousy in your other boyfriend’s face. 
“Because I asked for them,” Jaemin retorts, a teasing grin sitting on his lips as he leans back and watches Jeno’s expression become even more disgruntled. He’s definitely amused with this situation, whereas you’re not sure how to feel about it.
“Whatever…” you sigh, placing your hand flat on the book you can’t wait to keep reading. Then you signal Jeno to come over to you by pointing your chin at him, and then towards the empty spot on the sofa to your right. He doesn’t hesitate to approach you, smiling like a puppy that had just been praised and plopping down on the couch next to you. Just when you’re about to lean in, Jaemin interrupts you.
“Oh, I have to work for it, but if he just gives you puppy eyes once you give in?” he complains in offense, and you merely retort,
“Oh shut up.” Then, your lips meet Jeno’s, whose hand comes up to cup your cheek, and he smiles into the kiss. Warmth spreads in your chest, but still you tear yourself away.
“Can I read now?” you ask, a bit annoyed at the two, and when you sense Jaemin placing his chin on your shoulder to pout at you from up close, you assume the answer is no. “Please,” you add.
“Another kiss to make up for it?” he asks, and heat rushes to your cheeks as you turn your head to find his adorable expression right in front of you.
“Make up for what?”
“For being so hard on me!” You can tell he’s still playing with you, but you also know he isn’t going to let you off the hook so easily. So you merely sigh, before kissing him again.
Lips moving against Jaemin’s, you forget about the other guy being there for a moment, until you feel a warm touch against your exposed neck. You moan into the kiss, before correctly identifying the soft texture as Jeno’s lips. When you don’t break the kiss with your other boyfriend despite that, Jeno sinks his teeth into your skin, making you gasp.
“What-” you whirl around to complain, but your lips are immediately met with Jeno’s, who now places one hand on your thigh and the other behind your neck. The book is lifted off your lap, and you’re assuming Jaemin is putting it away, before you can feel his lips nipping at the delicate skin on the side of your throat instead. 
“Not fair…” he mutters, just as Jeno releases you in order to bury his face in your nape as well. You moan at their touches, and while Jaemin brings his hand up to rest his palm on your other thigh, Jeno’s fingertips slip under your shirt to dance up your stomach.
“Guys…” you breathe, as the angel and devil on your shoulders start a fight - one just wanting to continue reading, the other begging to let yourself give in to their touches.
“Hmm?” Jaemin hums close to your ear, and you can feel him grin against your skin. Meanwhile Jeno keeps scattering kisses all over, working his way up to your jaw and causing you to lean your head back in the process. A shiver runs down your spine when you feel the former pressing his lips onto your pulse.
“How about… you just let me finish this chapter…?” you suggest, but by now you’re not sure anymore if that’s really the thing you want the most at the moment.
“Is a book really more important than us?” Jeno questions, and you know that you can’t possibly answer yes.
“I mean…” you mutter, but fail to finish your sentence as he comes back up to your lips, sharing a deep kiss with you. Again, the kiss is broken due to the shenanigans of the other, because you end up throwing your head back when Jaemin peels the blanket off you, sliding his palm up the inside of your thigh.
“What?” he questions, not taking his gaze away from you as he begins teasing you through your sweatpants. “You’d rather have your book than this?” You give him a pleading look, and when Jeno’s hand finds your breasts under your shirt, you squeeze your eyes tightly shut. That’s when you give in to your body’s desires, and you earn a chuckle from both of them as you shake your head.
“That’s right,” Jeno mutters right beside your ear, before kissing a trail down. “We’ll take care of you.” He alternates between massaging your boobs and squeezing your nipples between his thumb and index finger, while you spread your legs apart a bit further to give Jaemin better access to your core. “So needy,” Jeno whispers, sinking his teeth into your soft skin. On the other side of your throat, you feel Jaemin’s breath tickling you just below your ear as he exhales.
“You want more?” he asks, voice low, and you feel a rush of heat straight to your core.
“P-please…” you answer, sounding desperate.
“Then you’ll need to give us something in return.” He removes his hand from where you want him the most for a second, reaching for your wrist to guide your hand to the bulge in his pants, and almost automatically, your other hand finds the same spot on Jeno.
“Good girl.” You receive a praise from him for that, and when you start to palm them both through their pants, the groans that escape them sound like music to your ears. While Jeno captures your chin with his free hand to make you face him so he can proceed to kiss you, Jaemin slips his hand past the waistband of your sweatpants, pushing the fabric of your panties aside to touch you directly. You moan into the open-mouthed kiss when he begins to circle his fingertip on your clit, and you buck your hips as a way of begging for more, all while trying to stay focused on pleasuring the both of them in return. Jeno breaks the kiss for air, while you can hear Jaemin mutter a curse under his breath, just before sliding two fingers inside you with ease, making you whine. 
“Keep going,” he urges you on, bucking his hips into your palm, “Don’t stop.” You nod with determination, but the pleasure of having both their hands on you clouds your mind, and you’re not sure how much longer you will last. Jeno eventually pulls your shirt off you, tossing it aside, and then he grabs a few strands of your hair close to the roots, tugging at them, while tending to your chest with his other hand and his mouth. His tongue swirling around one of your nipples while his fingers take care of the other, along with Jaemin’s fingers curling inside you and his thumb pressing against your clit makes you feel like you’ll go crazy any second now.
“Fuck… f-feels so good…” you whine. “I’m-… I’m gonna-” Your orgasm comes crashing down on you, moaning curses and both their names, and for a while you completely forget to keep moving your hands, resting on their bulges that have grown to the point they’re painfully stretching out the fabric of their pants. Still, at least Jaemin seems to have no plans to make you get him off for now, because after you’ve come down from your high, he pulls out carefully and then quickly tears your pants and underwear off you. Before you can register what’s happening, you already find him kneeling in front of you, trailing sloppy kisses up the inside of your thigh.
“Need to taste you…” he mutters, and when his tongue meets your still overstimulated clit, you whine and a shiver shakes your whole body. Jeno kisses his way from your chest back up to your lips, his hands starting to roam your entire body until eventually he grips onto your waist to keep you in place, while your other boyfriend starts to eat you out. You whine from the pleasure of him circling the tip of his tongue around your clit skillfully, and you cry out as he slides his fingers back into your dripping pussy with ease.
“J-jaemin…” you stutter out his name as Jeno’s lips leave yours for a short while.
“You taste so sweet, baby,” he mumbles, sending vibrations up your core, before going right back to tending to your clit.
“Hnng… fuck, Jaemin… s-so good…” you cry out, when Jeno harshly grabs your chin to make you look at him.
“I’m here too,” he growls, and without leaving you time to say anything back, he smashes his mouth against yours, sinking his teeth into the tender flesh of your bottom lip. You moan, looking for something to hold onto and eventually finding Jeno’s shirt. You wrap your fingers around the fabric tightly, tugging at it involuntarily as the pleasure builds up with each of Jaemin’s movements inside you. Jeno pulls you head back by your hair in order to expose the delicate skin on your throat, attaching his lips to it and starting to suck a hickey onto your neck, while you continue moaning uncontrollably. 
“F-fuck…” you curse through gritted teeth, and eventually you cry out as your second orgasm hits you. You clench around your boyfriend’s fingers, and when he pulls out a few seconds later, he comes back up, pushing Jeno aside as he crawls on top of you. Tongue licking your juices off his digits, he brings up his other hand to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your swollen lips. And then he leans in for a kiss, making you taste yourself on him as he moves his lips against yours hungrily. When you part, you’re both out of breath, his eyes dripping with honey as he takes in the sight in front of him. You must look fucked out already, but when Jeno shoves the other guy off of you, you know they’re far from done with you. 
“Not fair…” he pouts, running his hand down your body, nails digging into your skin. “He always gets everything first.”
“What…?” you mumble, but when Jeno begins trailing lazy kisses down your torso, you understand what he’s planning. Without thinking, you bury your hand in his hair, and you wince when he presses a kiss against your wet cunt. Jeno’s lips wrap around your clit, sucking carefully at first, and he’s cautious to keep his touches soft, as he’s well aware that you’re still overstimulated. 
“Jeno…” Now it’s his name that’s falling from your lips, when you hear Jaemin chuckling right beside you.
“He’s really good at that, huh…” he comments, smiling down at the other guy while taking your hand away from his head. Only now you realize that he’s pulled his own pants down a bit, and he leads you to his hard length. You wrap your fingers around it as he gives you a smile, and for a second his eyelids flutter shut as you begin to move your hand up and down slowly. Then, he replaces your hand atop Jeno’s head, ruffling through his hair a few times. “Really, really good,” Jaemin mutters under his breath, making it sound both like praise and teasing. 
Jeno slides two fingers inside you, curling them up against that perfect spot as his sucking on your clit becomes harsher - probably to distract you from getting off the other guy. It’s as if they’re fighting over your undivided attention, except that Jeno seems to be the only one fighting, while Jaemin seemingly remains amused by the situation no matter where it’s going.
“You’re doing well too,” the guy sitting beside you whispers into your ear, before he trails feathery light kisses down the side of your face. When he reaches your neck, you moan in appreciation, trying your best to focus on the way you’re moving your fist up and down his cock, but with Jeno slowly eating you out, it’s hard to concentrate on anything, really. He takes his time with it, but somehow the way he pumps his fingers in and out of you, and the way his mouth is tending to your clit are more intense than when Jaemin was in his position just a few minutes ago. Jeno looks up at you, forcing you to hold eye contact with him, and you can unmistakably see the hunger in his stare. 
“Don’t stop.” Jaemin’s words cause you to look away from the other guy, and he takes his fingers out of Jeno’s locks to wrap them around your hand, guiding you to move faster up and down his length. He throws his head back at the friction, moaning a curse under his breath, and so do you as Jeno carefully sinks his teeth into your sensitive bud as a warning. As if he wanted to tell you to focus on him only, he shoots you an intense gaze, and the moans get stuck in your throat as his fingers speed up. He pushes in a third one, stretching you out a bit.
“Look at me, Y/N,” he orders, taking his lips away from your cunt for a moment. Then he dives back in, and you cry out from pleasure as his tongue quickly darts over your clit. You can see your next orgasm approaching, and you shut your eyes tightly.
“D-don’t stop… please, Jeno… don’t s-stop…!” Your high comes crashing down on you and you feel yourself clenching hard around his fingers. Both of them let you catch your breath as you come down from your high, your mind filled with nothing but utter bliss. However, they’re not done with you yet. 
Your eyes find Jaemin first as he takes off his shirt, and you let your gaze wander from his chest to his abs, tracing the lines of his skin, before you turn to look at Jeno and find him topless as well. Both of them slip out of their pants, and you gulp, eyeing them with curiousity, as you can only wonder what they’re planning to do to you now.
“Babe…” Jeno is the first to call out to you, holding out his hand for you to take. He pulls you up onto your feet, holding you tight as your legs are still shaking from the orgasms your boyfriends gave you, and he kisses you in fervour. With his hand placed on the small of your back, he presses your body against his, deepening the kiss in the process. At the same time you feel Jaemin’s hands on your hips, and his lips nipping at the skin at the back of your neck and on your shoulders while he presses his hard on against your ass.
“I have an idea,” he mutters, fingers squeezing your flesh, and he scatters a few more kisses on your skin before he continues. “Get on your knees…” Jeno releases you, breaking the kiss, and you turn around in his hold. Your hands naturally find their way into Jaemin’s, fingers intertwining as he steadies you. You do as told, sinking down onto the ground, and you have a hunch what he’s planning.
“You too,” he proceeds to order, this time directed at Jeno. Then, he lets go of one of your hands, only to capture your chin in his grip, making you look up at him. “How about we try something… you suck me off… while Jeno takes you from behind.” Excitement runs through your body, and you feel a new wave of heat rushing to your core. You nod obediently, perking up your ass and you gasp when Jeno’s hand flies to your behind, spanking you. Tingly pain spreads where he slapped the skin, and he immediately goes over to rubbing soothing circles on the spot. Then his hand moves towards your entrance, and he loses no time to push his fingers inside once more, finding you soaking wet and more than ready for his cock. You throw him a pleading look over your shoulder, and he runs his hands up your back and then down your sides.
“I’ll fuck you so good,” he mutters, leaning down to kiss a trail up your spine, and then he wraps his fingers around his length to give himself a few strokes in preparation. Aligning his tip with your cunt, he takes a hold of your hips, and giving them a gentle squeeze, he asks, “You ready, babe?”
“Y-yeah,” you stutter in expectation, and when he pushes inside you, you moan, falling forward and being caught by Jaemin who’s now kneeling in front of you. Enjoying that perfect feeling of being filled up, you get on all fours, and you peek up to see Jaemin giving you an encouraging nod. He cups your face in his palm, running his thumb over your cheek once, and then he watches as you lift one hand off the ground to reach for his cock. You take him into your mouth slowly, while Jeno holds still and waits, swirling your tongue around the tip at first, but soon feeling Jaemin impatiently pushing further inside. In that moment, Jeno as well starts thrusting, groaning from the pleasure of finally being inside you, and all you can do is moan as the other guy begins to slowly fuck your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut when he hits the back of your throat, gagging on his length and leading him to be more careful with his movements, while Jeno doesn’t hold back anymore. His thrusts are slow but strong, and everytime he pushes all the way back inside, you moan, sending vibrations up Jaemin’s cock. He has one hand buried in your hair, tugging at the strands whenever you lure a groan out of him.
“I’m… almost there…” His hips stutter, and you get ready to receive his load. You look up at him, fucked out and still pleading for whatever your boyfriends have to give, and it pushes him over the edge as he spills into your mouth with one more thrust. You do your best to swallow everything, licking the remainder of his cum off your lips after he pulls out. Meanwhile, Jeno speeds up again, and eventually he wraps his arms around your upper body, pulling you into an almost upright position. You whine in surprise and you squeeze your eyes shut, but you’re quick to relax in his hold as one of his hands finds its way to your core, fingertips rubbing against your clit while you’re trying your best to keep your back arched for him to be able to fuck you properly. And then you feel a pair of lips against yours - Jaemin kissing you sloppily, as he himself is still catching his breath. He moves further down, mouth exploring your neck and collarbones, and his hands land on your breasts, starting to play with your nipples. The overstimulation makes you whine and moan and curse, leaving you unable to have a single clear thought as it’s about to drive you insane. With their hands all over you and Jeno’s thrusts getting harder as he seems to be coming close to his release as well, you find another orgasm is approaching at light speed. Before you know it, you’re coming undone in between the two of them. You collapse into Jaemin’s arms, who catches you safely, and you keep whining as Jeno picks up speed for a few more thrusts until eventually, he cums too.
While you attempt to catch your breath, safely resting in Jaemin’s embrace, Jeno fetches you some towels to clean yourselves a bit. All gathering on the couch, you hide underneath the blanket that’s barely big enough for the three of you. But you don’t mind, since that merely means you will have to move closer together for everyone to be covered. 
“I’ll run us a bath, how about that?” Jeno eventually proposes, and you nod, smiling at the thought of a relaxing bubble bath.
“What about your book?” Jaemin asks, and as if the answer wasn’t obvious, you raise an eyebrow at him.
“Don’t think I can read in this state…” you say, “Bath sounds better.” Jeno lets out a breathy laugh, and then he presses a kiss onto your cheek. 
“I’ll carry you if you want,” he mumbles. “And Jaemin can take care of making dinner while we’re gone.” You chuckle at his words, and before the other guy can complain about Jeno's attempt at having you all to himself, you quickly press a kiss onto his lips.
“That’d be great,” you say. 
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