#this has been in my brain all day and it needs to get out
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Like can we pls pls pls pls pls get a smut where Reader sees alexias new photos for nike (though she had shown to reader some they did had the edit the impact you know) reader getting all hot and bothered and jumps on alexia qhen she gets home like do it everything with me
it’s not smut because i’ve got to save some material for bitter sweet
shameless plug
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The day is, for the most part, unremarkable.
You wake up at 07:26, which is two minutes before your alarm, which is irritating because you could have had those two minutes. You stare at the ceiling for a moment, assessing your bodily functions—slight stiffness in your neck from the way you slept, residual warmth from the duvet, a faint need to pee but not urgent enough to act on. Alexia is still asleep next to you, her breathing slow and deep. There’s a dent in the pillow from where she’s been lying, a strand of hair curling across her cheek. You could stay here, watch her, but then your alarm does go off, and reality intrudes.
You shower, make coffee, scroll absentmindedly through your phone, thumb moving in automatic, practised motions. You see the photos at exactly 08:02.
And that’s when everything changes.
At first, your brain doesn’t fully register what you’re looking at. There’s a moment of lag, like a buffering screen, a stutter in your synapses. Then the full weight of it hits, and it’s like being smacked in the face with a sledgehammer. A very attractive, well-lit sledgehammer.
It’s Alexia. Obviously, it’s Alexia. But it’s Nike Alexia.
Sweaty. Flexing. Half-naked.
Her abs look like they’ve been sculpted by the gods. Her arms—veins subtly pronounced, muscles taut, defined—are a work of art. There’s a slight sheen of sweat on her skin, catching the light in a way that feels almost… obscene. Her gaze is focused, intense, fixed down the lense, like she’s contemplating the meaning of life but also potentially about to fight someone.
You stare. Then you blink. Then you stare again.
Something warm pools low in your stomach, and your grip on your phone tightens. You have seen Alexia naked. Repeatedly. You live together. You have firsthand knowledge—intimate, detailed knowledge—of every inch of her body. And yet, somehow, these photos manage to feel like a personal attack.
Your first thought is: How dare she?
Your second thought is: I need to sit down.
Which you do, heavily, onto one of the kitchen stools. Your coffee is abandoned, cooling rapidly. The world outside continues as normal—birds chirping, distant traffic noise, the faint hum of the fridge—but your internal landscape has been irrevocably altered.
You should say something. React. But words fail you, so instead, you just keep staring, swiping through the photos in what can only be described as a state of near-religious awe. You don’t even realise you’re making a noise—somewhere between a sigh and a groan—until you hear movement behind you.
Then, her voice, still thick with sleep.
“What are you looking at?”
Your soul leaves your body.
You exit out of the app too quickly, fumbling with your phone like a guilty teenager caught watching something they shouldn’t be. Which is ridiculous. You are an adult. You are in a committed relationship with this woman. There is no reason for you to be acting like this.
And yet.
“Nothing,�� you say, entirely unconvincing.
Alexia pads barefoot into the kitchen, wearing one of your T-shirts, her hair slightly messy. She yawns, stretching, and your eyes immediately zero in on the movement, the flex of muscle beneath skin. It is unfair that she looks this good first thing in the morning. Unethical, even.
She squints at you, then at your phone. “Why do you look like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’ve seen God.”
You take a slow, steadying breath.
“Not God,” you say. “Just Nike’s new campaign.”
She blinks. Then, the smirk starts, slow and knowing. “Ah.”
“Don’t ah me,” you say, pointing accusingly. “This is your fault.”
“My fault?” She moves to the fridge, retrieving the orange juice. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You posed.”
She laughs, pouring herself a glass. “I did.”
“You flexed.”
“I did.”
“You—” You gesture vaguely, helplessly. “You glistened.”
She tilts her head, amused. “That’s usually what happens when you’re sweating.”
“I don’t sweat like that,” you say, almost mournful. “I sweat like a normal person. You sweat like—like—” You pause, struggling to find the words. “Like a Nike advert.”
Alexia sips her juice, looking infuriatingly pleased with herself. “That’s convenient.”
You exhale sharply, dropping your head onto the counter. “I need help.”
“Probably.”
Silence stretches. You can feel her eyes on you, can hear the faint clink of her glass as she sets it down. Then, her voice, softer now, but with an unmistakable thread of amusement.
“Do you want me to sign one for you?”
Your head snaps up. “What?”
She gestures toward your phone. “A print. I can sign it for you. Make it personal.”
You gape at her, scandalised. “Do I look like the kind of person who would have a signed picture of their girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“You have my old Barça jersey framed.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“It’s—” You flounder. “It’s memorabilia. Historic.”
She raises an eyebrow. “So these pictures aren’t historic?”
“Not unless I drop dead from looking at them,” you mutter.
Alexia grins. “Want me to flex for you right now?”
You make a noise that is neither dignified nor human.
Alexia laughs. It’s light, teasing, but there’s something else behind it, something knowing. She closes the small distance between you, leans in, voice low.
“You’re blushing.”
“I’m not,” you lie.
Her hand brushes your arm, slow, deliberate. “You are.”
You swallow. Your mouth is dry. Your heart rate is—scientifically speaking—fucked.
This is fine. This is manageable.
Then, she actually flexes.
And you black out.
Metaphorically.
Mostly.
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horny kunigami rensuke brainrot - cw. 18+ mdni. chars 20+, afab!reader
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ca2335288802012e8ced3b5b4a011912/74326ef40aec41b1-d9/s540x810/e9c07ee46a3f14025e88bfb509eb17727b6e34e6.jpg)
thigh riding with kunigami would go insaaaane. post-wildcard too— omg he would be so fucking MEAN 🤤
whenever you're in a skirt, it's like he can see the gears in your head working out a way to get on his lap. if you're sitting across from him, crossing and uncrossing your legs, he'll roughly drag your chair forward and fucking tip you out of it until you're stumbling onto him: "this what you wanted?"
he initially thinks of it as punishment because he knows what you really want, but you love it because his thighs are just so big
you can feel how powerful he is with his thigh muscles bunching and rolling in between your legs, his hands digging into your hips and locking you in place
while he drags your clit up and down his quad, he has all the time in the world to say the filthiest shit in your ear—never fails to make you flush hot with the things he says, "always so fuckin’ needy, baby. what would have happened if I just let you squirm over there? probably soak through that cute set i just bought you"
definitely pulls out a sneer when you start to get tired, inner thigh muscles shaking, your pussy throbbing as your panties slip and slide through your soaking wet folds—
"awww does someone think they're done? spoiled little princess too tired to get herself off? that's fuckin' cute"
degrades you like he’s paid to do it but still lets you collapse into his arms and sob into his neck while he guides your hips, "see, baby?" he says, breath harsh against your ear as you shudder and whimper out his name, "i always end up having to do all the work"
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ca2335288802012e8ced3b5b4a011912/74326ef40aec41b1-d9/s540x810/e9c07ee46a3f14025e88bfb509eb17727b6e34e6.jpg)
a/n: this thought has been rotting my brain for days now i need to infect others!!divider from @hyuneskkami
#BARKING LIKE A DOG#sugarwarachanwrites#kunigami rensuke#bllk kunigami#kunigami x reader#blue lock kunigami#kunigami smut#kunigami rensuke x reader#kunigami rensuke x reader smut#bllk x reader#bllk smut#blue lock x reader
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𝘉𝘰𝘺'𝘴 𝘢 𝘓𝘪𝘢𝘳
▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| ᴄʟᴀʀᴋ ᴋᴇɴᴛ x fem! reader
「 ✦ A/N ✦ 」 I don't know what has creeped into my brain, but I've started rewatching the show and I literally wrote this in a day.
✬ summary ✬ Finally taking the plunge and ruining your friendship with Clark, you go on your first date but the next day he's acting like a whole new man. Not a good one. You don't know if your relationship can recover from his cruel behavior, but he's not going to give up so easily.
For the nth time, you stand before your mirror and find yourself dissatisfied. No outfit is right, each one is too little, too much, too slutty, not slutty enough. You haven’t even started on shoes yet, you would be in the grave before you were ready for this date. Throwing yourself down on your desk chair, you start tugging the stockings down your legs.
You’re not sure why you thought tights would work during the peak of a Kansas summer, but you’re clearly not thinking much at all today. Head propped in your hand, you slump against the edge of your desk, fingers running idly over the scattered makeup on the surface. Even that hasn't gone right, your normal safeties failing you when you need them most.
Maybe this was all a sign from the universe. You and Clark have been friends since you could walk, what if this stupid date was going to ruin everything between you?
Sighing, you reach for the only framed picture in your room. It’s silly, something Martha took when you were both too busy playing to see her. You and Clark, freshly five, sit around your old purple play table, the both of you covered in glitter and rocking some of the biggest tutus you’ve ever seen. You’re yelling at him in the picture, probably telling him to put his pinky up when he drinks his tea, and he’s just grinning at you.
It’s funny how that smile never changed. Something warm unfurls and blooms in your chest the longer you look at the picture. It’s Clark, he doesn’t care what you wear or if you’ve put on makeup or not. You both loved each other long before that was ever a problem, and it’s not going to start being one now.
Sucking in a deep breath you put on the first outfit you’d picked out, a simple white sundress. You rarely get to wear it, anyway. Might as well test it out now. You check the mirror one last time just as someone knocks on your bedroom door.
Clark calls out your name on the other side, sounding hesitant. “Sorry, um,” he chuckles and you can picture the way he must be nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “I got here a little early.”
You dart away from the mirror, kicking all the clothes under your bed. You slide the makeup into your desk drawer to be dealt with later. For now, you just need to make sure that he doesn’t see what a hot mess your room is.
Sucking in a deep breath, you tug the hem of your dress down and shake off your worries. This is Clark. Your Clarkie, the boy you’ve tormented since you were a toddler. There’s nothing to worry about.
“You’re always early, Clark,” you tell him with a soft smile as you open the door.
His eyes widen slightly as he looks down at you. You did purposefully pick a dress that would emphasize certain aspects of yours. The pink flush on his cheeks is entirely worth it. Your eyes are drawn to the bunch of flowers in his hand and you grin. “Are those for me?” You gush, opening your door wider for him to step inside.
“Yeah,” he holds them out to you, blue eyes stuck on yours. “I thought you might like them.” You bring them closer to your face, taking in the faint scent of the roses.
“I love them, thank you,” you find yourself unable to stop smiling as you drop the roses in a glass of water by your bed. After building up your hopes and anxieties for a week because of this date, you're struggling to calm yourself down.
Turning, you find him already looking at you with a soft smile that calms your racing heart just a bit. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a while,” he tells you, taking a step closer to you. His hands find your own, pulling you into him. “Not just the date,” he amends, smile stretching wider. “Asking you out. I think our friends were getting sick of listening to me talk about you all the time.”
You laugh, “I think they were getting sick of both of us. I feel so oblivious that it took me so long to realize you felt the same way.”
He huffs, though his tone remains good-natured, “How do you think I feel?”
“Well,” you lace your fingers with his and step closer, “we’re doing it now, that’s what matters.” He ducks down and you feel your breath stutter, but he only leaves a brief kiss on your cheek, pulling back with a sheepish expression. A gentleman through and through.
You’d never thought that knowing Clark for as well and as long as you have could be a bad thing. But now, sitting in The Talon and awkwardly dipping your fries in ketchup just to have something to do, you’re starting to realize it is. Being with each other nearly every day leaves you wanting for conversation. You both are already so caught up on what’s going on in each other’s lives that you’re struggling not to just bring up the weather.
Clark groans and you startle, the noise breaking through the thick silence between you. He leans back in the booth, head resting on the edge and you find your eyes drawn to the strong muscles of his neck, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
Clearing your throat you glance away from him and push your plate away. “I didn’t want it to be like this,” Clark mutters, more to himself than you, but you hear him anyway.
“It’s, well,” you pause, struggling for the words. Letting out a self-deprecating laugh, you shake your head. “I just don’t know what to do when we’re like this,” he peeks an eye open and you gesture between the two of you.
His lips quirk up and he straightens once more. “I feel like I should be able to talk to you, same as always. But I don't know what to say, I don’t want to risk messing this up.” He trails off, glancing away from you and swallowing roughly. The same dreaded panic you’ve been feeling all week is thick in his voice.
“Clark,” you utter his name lowly, reaching your hand out across the table. He’s slow to meet your eyes. “I feel the same way. We’re being stupid because I know that nothing you could say is going to change how I feel about you.” You narrow your eyes, taking on a teasing tone, “And you better feel the same way,” you scold.
He huffs out a laugh, larger hand enveloping yours entirely and squeezing gently, “You know I do.”
You shrug, “Then we’re just being stupid, again,” you add, rolling your eyes.
His eyes light up with mischief, a smile spreading as he stands from his seat. You jump back slightly, surprised by the sudden movement. “I’ve got an idea, come on,” he holds his hand out and you take it once more.
You let out a surprised laugh as he takes off, dragging you out of the Talon behind him. “Where are we going?”
He pauses for a moment, looking over his shoulder at you. It awes you, just how handsome he is. “It’s a surprise,” he winks and tugs you closer.
“Your surprise is… the school?” You frown, taking Clark’s hand as he helps you down from the truck.
“No,” he defends, shooting you a sarcastic look as he closes the door behind you. “We’re sneaking onto the field, like we used to. Maybe a little jog down memory lane will help,” he gives you a cheesy smile and you feel like you might melt.
The sun hangs low on the horizon, its fading golden hues painting the sky in soft oranges and purples. The light catches in Clark’s hair, casting a warm halo around him. Sometimes he seems so overwhelmingly perfect that you wonder if you’ll ever be enough for him. Even when you were beginning to give up hope, he comes up with something so sweet, so thoughtful, that all you want to do is kiss him.
Swallowing down the urge, you place your hand in his and let him lead you around the side of the school. “You know, we only used to do this to mess with the football players,” you tease. “Hard to do when you’re on the team, Clarkie.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Hey, we can still tear the seams on their jerseys- just not mine.” He throws you a grin, and it sends a rush of warmth through your chest.
The familiar path behind the school is darker now, but your steps fall in sync like muscle memory. The fence around the field looms ahead, a little more daunting than normal. It’s harder to climb in your dress, but Clark gives you a boost. One so strong you nearly fly over.
Landing with a huff, you turn to glare at him as he pulls himself over with ease. “Too much torque in the thrust, Clark,” you grumble, brushing off your hands.
He chuckles, throwing an arm over your shoulders as you both step onto the field. “Come on, we should get down there before the sun’s gone.”
Dew from the grass seeps its way into the thin fabric of your shoes as you walk toward the center of the field. The bleachers stand empty, the goalposts stretch high into the deepening sky, and for the first time tonight, you feel like you can take a breath.
Clark shrugs off his jacket, laying it out on the grass and motioning for you to sit. You hesitate for a moment, but then you look down at the white fabric of your dress and decide you’re okay with sacrificing Clark’s jacket.
Clark lowers himself beside you, leaning back on his palms as he gazes up at the sky. The last streaks of sunlight fade, and one by one, the stars blink to life above you. You’ve always thought the sky above Smallville was different than anywhere else. As if the stars were reaching out to you. Considering your track record with meteors, it doesn’t seem that far off.
For a while, neither of you speak. The quiet is comfortable, not at all like the stilted silence you’d felt in the diner. You’re content just being here with him, under the vast, endless sky.
Clark is the first to break the peace. He shifts beside you, drawing in a slow breath as he disrupts the silence. “I’ve,” he hesitates on the word, “cared about you for a long time,” he admits, voice low and steady. “Longer than I ever told you.”
You glance over at him and find his gaze fixed on the stars. His jaw is tense, like he’s bracing himself for you to tell him this was all one big mistake and you’re better off as friends. A smile pulls at your lips at the ridiculous thought and you reach toward the small space between you both. Placing your hand over his, he finally looks at you.
“I know things are,” he pauses, “a little weird between us right now.” He looks at your hand and flips his palm so he can lace your fingers together. “But I don’t want to lose what we have. If you’re willing to make it work, I am too.”
Your heart stutters, and for a moment all you can do is stare at him. At the boy who’s always been there, the boy who, despite everything, still makes your heart race. Your smile spreads, “Of course I’m willing,” you whisper.
His breath hitches, and then he grins, the same grin that will never fail to make you lightheaded with infatuation.
Clark was meant to be here an hour ago. You’d made plans to go to a screening of some old movies at the theater. Sitting on the steps of your front porch, head propped in your hand, you look out at the farmlands around you. He only lives a few minutes away from you, you can’t fathom why he would be so late.
You’d like to give him the benefit of the doubt, he’s not the type of guy to just leave you hanging. But there’s something humiliating about sitting out here all on your own. The wind has already fussed and ruined the hairstyle you’d so meticulously worked on. You’d already missed half of one of the movies. And the sun is beginning to set.
Part of you is begging to just go inside and give up, but you're more stubborn half won't give in. Clark isn't like this, he wouldn't do something like this without good reason.
A rumble sounds down the highway and your head perks up, crestfallen look replaced with something more hopeful. Getting to your feet, you grimace at the pins and needles tingling down your legs. Walking down the steps and getting a good look at the approaching motorcycle, your stomach plummets.
Not Clark, then, though it’s odd to see someone beside you or the Kent’s driving on this stretch of road. Your hand tightens around the hem of your tank top as the motorcycle begins to slow as it approaches your house. Heart picking up, you take a step back toward the safety of the porch.
Maybe they just need directions or maybe…
Your brain breaks for a moment as the rider pulls into your driveway.
Maybe they’re Clark.
Your jaw drops as he shoots you a smarmy grin, getting off his father’s bike and striding toward you with a swagger you’re unused to. “Hiya, sweetheart." You take a step back from him, brows furrowed.
“Clark,” you spit his name out in shock, eyes darting between him and the bike. Knowing that he’s not dying somewhere in a ditch, your anger at being left waiting surges forth. “You’re an hour late because you were busy stealing your dad’s bike?” You demand, trying to ignore just how good he looks leaning against the post of your porch in that ridiculous leather jacket.
“Sure,” he chuckles and rolls his eyes, brushing past you and heading back to the bike. “That’s why,” he snaps, like you’re slow. He straddles the bike and nods you forward. “You coming or not?”
Sucking in a sharp breath, you glance between him and the front door of your house. Again, giving him the benefit of the doubt, you choose to get on the back of the bike. Maybe this is all just one big act that he’s putting on to surprise you with something at the theater.
He turns the key and you frown, “Helmet?” You ask weakly. He doesn’t respond, just laughs and peels out of your driveway. You squeal, grabbing on tight to his waist and burying your face in his back.
This isn’t an act, and this definitely isn’t Clark. But whoever he is, you just got on the back of his motorcycle like an idiot.
With every turn and rev of the bike, you prepare to feel the pavement beneath your palms. Still, as reckless and nauseating as his driving is, he manages to get you here in one piece. Though, where here is, you’re not sure.
Clark swings off the bike effortlessly, grinning over his shoulder at a group of girls walking into the building behind him. He doesn’t seem to notice, or care, about the way your hands still tremble from the ride. You’d been too busy clutching onto him for dear life to pay any attention to where you were going and you’re starting to regret it.
The building is nothing more than dirtied brick, the faded neon sign above the door advertising beer and live music. The bass thumps from inside, vibrating the gravel beneath your feet. From within, you hear jeering shouts, the telltale sounds of a crowd on the verge of chaos.
“Clark,” despite his odd behavior, you still find yourself stepping toward him and holding tight to his hand. The sheltered life of Smallville hasn’t exactly prepared you for backwoods, seedy bars. “Where are we?” You peer up at him and the glint in his eyes makes your stomach clench with trepidation.
“Oh,” he laughs, tugging you toward the entrance, “you’re gonna like this,” he swears. Despite the way you dig your heels into the dirt, he keeps pulling, giving you no choice but to follow him into the bar.
The air changes as you step inside, it’s worse than you thought it would be. Thick with heat and smoke, it pulses with the heavy bass of a song you don’t recognize. Multicolored lights flash across the writhing bodies on the dance floor. The scent of spilled beer, sweat, and something sticky clings to the air.
Your fingers tighten around Clark’s arm as he moves forward, practically wrapping yourself around him. He weaves through the crowd like he belongs here. If you let go now, you know he wouldn’t stop, he’d just keep going, leaving you all alone in a place you want no part of.
Clark drags you to the edge of the bar and slips a crumpled twenty across the counter. Wordlessly, and without checking for IDs, the bartender slides over two beers. Clark grabs one and to your utter shock, tilts it back, downing one long gulp.
“You gonna stand there watching me,” he challenges, “or are you finally going to let loose and have some fun?”
“No, Clark, I’m not drinking. And neither should you! You’re driving us back,” you snap, eyes darting around the seedy crowd.
Settling the half-empty bottle on the counter, he smirks, “Relax. We’re here to have a good time,” his tone almost sounds like a threat. Have a good time or else…
His gaze flickers toward the dance floor and your heart sinks at the mischief in his expression. “And I know exactly how to help you loosen up.”
Again, he gives you no time to protest or even form an opinion before he grabs you and pulls you toward the center of the dance floor. You feel like a leashed dog, no choice but to obey.
The music shifts into something darker, slower, a sultry beat thrumming through the air. It charges the atmosphere of the dancers and the crowd sways, bodies pressed tightly together as they move with the rhythm.
“Clark,” you glance around at the writhing bodies and swallow thickly. “I don’t-”
“Just one dance,” he cuts you off smoothly, voice low and coaxing. His lips curl up in a gentle smile as his hands find your waist. His grip is tight but not uncomfortable as he helps move your hips into the rhythm of the song. “Trust me.”
You hesitate, but it’s easier than you thought to simply fall into the slow, lazy grind of the dance. Your body moves in sync with his, despite the apprehension tightening through you. There’s something wrong with him, that’s clear enough. This isn’t the Clark you know, this is some bold, almost predatory version of him.
One of his hands drifts up from your waist, dragging the hem of your thin tank top up slightly as his fingers brush against the nape of your neck. A shiver runs down your spine as his grip tightens, tilting your head back. You press your hands against his chest, eyes rounding in confusion.
“Clark,” you whisper his name, breathless from the proximity. “What are you-”
He cuts you off, voice rough and breath warm against your lips, “Finally taking what I want.” His head dips down, lips capturing your own. It’s not the soft, gentle first kiss you’d always imagine you would share with him. This is hard, demanding.
He’s claiming you, marking his territory as he slips his hand lower on your waist. He pulls you flush against him, hips pressing against yours. A heat slowly spreads in you, but it's overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling that this isn’t Clark.
You push against his chest and you know he lets you go, the situation still under his control. He backs off with an irritated look, eyes narrowed down at you.
Your breath comes in quick, uneven gasps as you stare up at him. “What the hell, Clark?”
“What’s your problem?” He snaps, hand flexing around your neck before dropping to his side.
“You,” you hiss, eyes narrowing. “You’re not yourself, Clark.”
His jaw tenses, fists clenching by his side as he takes a step back from you. “Why? Because I’m finally doing what I want?” His voice is sharp, it bites at the fraying edges of your patience. The music around you picks up pace and somebody slams into you from behind.
With a pained gasp, you stumble forward, rubbing the sore spot where their elbow had slammed into your ribs. Clark watches it all with a bored look. Gone is the gentle, considerate boy you’ve known your whole life. This boy before you is reckless and selfish, you don’t want anything to do with him.
His attention flickers past you and you turn to follow his gaze. A pretty blonde sways in the middle of the dance floor, hips moving gracefully as her laughter rings above the music. Without a word or a second glance, he steps around you, striding toward her with the same effortless confidence he just used on you.
Frozen by disbelief and anger, you watch as he slides a hand around her waist, murmuring something in her ear that makes her giggle. The crowd shifts again, blocking your view of the two. It’s for the better as you suck in sharp breaths, trying to keep the tears at bay.
A lump clogs your throat and you rush toward the back of the bar, hoping there might be a bathroom to hide in. You just need a second away from the sweat and noise of the dancers. You stumble through a stained door and slam it closed behind you, wiping desperately at the tears rolling down your cheeks.
After splashing cold water over your face and simply standing in there for a few minutes, you finally feel stable enough to go back outside. You’re just going to ask Clark to take you home and then you hope you never have to see him again.
But when you return to the dance floor, heart still pounding its way up your throat, you can’t find Clark. You can’t even find the blonde. He’s acting like a jackass, but there’s no way he would just leave you.
Right?
You rush outside, your stomach dropping like a stone when you see the parking lot. The motorcycle is gone.
He left you behind.
“Thank you,” your gaze stays trained on your hands, not ready to look at Lex. You feel his stare boring into the side of your head before he turns back to the road.
“You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad you called me instead of trying to get home on your own.” He pauses, hand tightening on the steering wheel as he takes in a deep breath. “But what were you doing in a place like that?”
You slump in the passenger seat, rubbing a tired hand over your face. All you want to do is go home and wash this night away. You’re hesitant to tell him the truth, knowing he might give Clark hell for leaving you there. A part of you is still primed to protect him, but the other part, the one that was just left behind, can’t care.
“Clark,” you tell him and his head whips around so fast you’re surprised you don't hear it snap. “He was acting weird tonight. Took me there and then left with another girl.”
“Are you serious?” He demands, sounding angry on your behalf. Right now, though, you don’t have the energy for anger. “Clark wouldn’t do that.”
You suck in a deep breath and finally look at him, “The one I know wouldn’t,” you offer vaguely, ignoring his confused expression. “Honestly, I just want to get home and never talk to him again.”
Lex chuckles a little, “You don’t mean that.”
“Try me,” you snap, glaring out the window. You’re debating calling Clark’s dad and telling him that Clark took the bike. If not just for petty revenge. Just the thought of it makes you feel tired.
“I’m sure,” Lex starts, already sounding like he doesn’t believe himself, “he had a perfectly reasonable explanation for what he did.” You roll your eyes, giving him a deadpan look. His hand lifts slightly off the wheel in surrender. “There’s no excuse,” he amends.
“No, there’s not.” The car rolls to a stop and you look out the window, surprised to already be at your house. The porch light is off, your parents must already be asleep. “I really can’t thank you enough,” you tell Lex, offering him a weak but grateful smile.
He waves you off, “Forget it, I’m glad I could help. If you ever need anything else…” He trails off, leaving the offer open-ended.
You nod, opening the passenger door and stepping out. You’re just about to close it when something occurs to you. Clark always gives you a ride to school, you’re not going to have a way to get there after tonight.
“Oh,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation.
“What’s wrong?” Lex looks concerned and you offer him an apologetic grimace.
“I actually do need something,” you tell him, sheepish and pleading.
Clark wakes up with a fog clouding his mind, a dull pounding behind his eyes. Vague flashes of memory flicker through the haze. The sound of your upset voice, the thrum of music, and the feeling of your body pressed against his. It makes his cheeks flush with warmth, but none of it connects for him. Everything’s one frustrating blur.
But he can figure that out later, his gaze drifts toward the clock on his nightstand and his eyes widen. He leaps off the bed, nearly tripping as he gets wrapped up in his sheets. He was meant to pick you up ten minutes ago.
Clark throws on the first clothes he finds, raking a hand through his messy hair as he bolts down the stairs. His backpack is nearly left by the door as he rushes out. If he could, he’d run you to school. It would be so much faster, so much easier. But that would require explaining why he could do that, and he doesn’t think you’d appreciate him springing the truth of his abilities on you this early in the morning.
You’re not exactly a morning person.
He speeds down the road, the truck’s tires kicking up dust as he pulls into your driveway. Throwing the truck in park he doesn’t even bother cutting the engine before leaping out. Two steps at a time, he bounds up your front porch and knocks firmly on the door.
His foot taps against the wood of the porch as he checks the watch on his wrist. If you hurry, you might both be able to make it to first period on time. After a minute of silence he knocks again, but he’s greeted with the same silence.
He steps back, brows knitted together, and his gaze flickers toward the front window. He ignores the feeling of being a complete creeper as he peers through the glass. The house looks unnaturally still, none of your usual morning mess as you rush to get ready on time. The lights are off and he can’t hear anything inside.
Your parents are usually gone before you even wake up. He can’t think of anyone else who would give you a ride. Or why you would even have anyone else drive you. A strange unease coils in his stomach and another brief memory flashes through his mind. It’s not much, just a pretty blonde smiling up at him.
Jaw tightening, Clark turns back to his truck, climbing inside and heading straight for school. He’s sure everything’s fine. You probably had Chloe or Lana pick you up. Still, even with him being ten minutes late, he’s not sure how they would have gotten to your house before him.
Pulling into the parking lot he frowns, greeted first thing in the morning by Lex’s ridiculously overpriced sports car. It’s parked right in front of the entrance and he wonders what business Lex would have at the high school.
The passenger door opens and you step out, your bag slung over one shoulder. You turn to Lex, smiling as you give him a sweet wave. Clark watches it all with his shoulders tensed as something sharp and hot twists in Clark’s chest.
He watches as Lex pulls out of the parking lot, jaw clenched in irritation. He throws the truck into park and gets out, heading toward the front doors. Inside, the hallways seem more crowded than usual but he still manages to make you out almost instantly.
You’re at your locker, pulling out books as if nothing’s wrong. As if you didn’t get a ride with Lex Luthor and ditch him for seemingly no reason at all.
Clark makes a beeline for you, tightening his grip on his backpack as he stops beside your locker. “Hey,” he calls, forcing a smile. “Did I miss something? I thought I was picking you up this morning.”
You don’t even bother looking at him, eyes stubbornly pointed forward. “Guess I made other plans.”
The coldness in your voice stops him in his tracks. His stomach drops, smile faltering as you continue to pretend there’s anything more for you to grab from your locker. “Okay…” He exhales slowly. “Did something happen?”
You slam your locker shut and he jumps. Whipping around to face him, your eyes are dark with anger as you glare up at him. “Really?” You snap and his eyes widen in surprise. “This is what you’re doing, pretending you don’t remember?”
Clark blinks, thrown off by the heat in your voice. “I-”
“Forget it,” you cut him off. You shake your head, looking tired. “Just leave me alone, Clark. Seems to be something you’re good at, anyway.” You whip around, storming off down the hall and leaving him reeling. He wants to go after you but you’re already slipping into your English class and he knows there’s no way he’ll be able to talk to you in there.
He hovers in the hallway, stunned. What the hell happened last night?
His mind races, grasping at the fleeting memories. There was a bar, he’s not even sure how he found that place. He was dancing with you and then kissing you. His eyes widen at that, grimacing at the blurred memory of your rough first kiss. He’d been hoping for something a little sweeter than some backwoods bar.
He remembers you being angry at him but that’s it. There are holes and gaps that he can’t remember no matter how hard he tries. There’s only one thing that could explain the reckless behavior, the memory gaps, and the way he felt like someone else.
Red kryptonite.
His heart sinks and his head falls into his hands. He hurt you and probably scared you. You don’t even want to look at him now. Straightening up, he runs a hand through his hair and tries to think of a way to fix all of this.
He’s not sure he can, not when he can’t even remember what he’s done to you.
Admittedly, ambushing you outside of class probably wasn’t the best way to go about this. But he needed to make sure you couldn’t run from him. You walk out the door, books clutched to your chest, and head down.
Clark falls into step beside you and you briefly glance up, rolling your eyes when you realize it’s him. You pick up your pace, clearly trying to put space between the both of you. “Wait,” he calls, stepping in front of you. “One chance to explain, please.”
You stop in the middle of the hall, uncaring to the students parting around you. “Clark-”
“I don’t remember everything,” he admits, voice low and desperate as he pushes through your objection. “But I know something happened. And I need to fix this.”
Exhaling sharply, you can’t seem to meet his eye. “There’s nothing to fix.”
That can’t be true. He won’t let that be true. “Please,” he presses. “Just… one chance.”
For a moment, you hesitate, teeth pressing into your lower lip as you take a step back from him. “Fine,” you relent, sounding wholly reluctant. “We’ll talk after school.”
Relief floods through him and he finally manages a real smile for the first time all morning. “Okay,” he utters, trying not to sound surprised. “Great, I’ll drive you home, and-”
“No,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “Lex is giving me a ride,” he opens his mouth to protest and you shoot him a sharp look. His jaw snaps closed and he sighs. “I’ll meet you at your house later,” you tell him, leaving no room for argument.
His stomach twists as you turn and walk away. Lex, he scoffs and shakes his head. When did the two of you get close? One bad night and you’re already done with him?
The thought should fill him with anger, but it only makes his worry grow. Whatever he had done last night must have been truly awful. He hates that there’s a chance he won’t be able to fix this. But what makes it worse is knowing that it’s all his fault.
Clark’s in his room when he hears you pull up to the house. He doesn’t waste any time as he heads down the stairs. “What happened to ‘I never want to see him again?’” Clark has no shame as he listens to your conversation. He doesn’t appreciate how comfortable Lex sounds teasing you.
“Yeah, well,” your voice loses its muffled edge as you open the passenger door. “I deserve an explanation.”
“Call me if you need anything,” Lex tells you as Clark opens his front door. Rolling his eyes, Clark jogs down the steps of his porch, heading toward you both. You turn over your shoulder, smile falling as you nod your head in greeting.
Clark’s waited forever to finally tell you how he really feels about you. Years of pining all led to that one moment where you told him that you feel the same way. He’d finally gotten a chance with you, to be with you like he always wanted. He’s not going to let last night ruin everything.
“Thanks, Lex,” you mutter, closing the passenger door and marching toward Clark. Lex lingers for a moment and Clark sends him a stiff smile and wave. Lex returns it with a smirk before driving off.
“So,” arms crossed across your chest, you glance up at him with barely veiled apprehension. “Are we going inside?”
Clark glances back at his house and shakes his head. He holds his hand out to you and you give him a wary glare. “Please,” he asks, and after a moment you place your hand in his. He smiles and leads you to the barn.
Call it nostalgia, call it desperation but whatever compelled you to actually hear Clark out can go bite it. He abandoned you at a club in a town you hadn’t even heard of. To go be with another girl, no less. You shouldn’t have even stopped to listen to him in the hallway. It’s a lack of self-respect, really.
But there was something in his eyes that compelled you to stay. Last night, he’d been a stranger wearing Clark’s face. This morning, you saw the earnest sincerity you always do when you look into those pretty blue eyes of his. Giving in was an inevitability.
Walking the familiar path to the barn you’re struck with a feeling almost like grief. Whatever could have bloomed between you and Clark feels like sand falling through your fingers. Unless he’s about to open those doors and reveal an evil twin, you’re not sure you could ever forgive him.
Clark glances over his shoulder at you, a gentle smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He throws the doors of the barn open and you roll your eyes at the dramatics. You slip past him and head inside, stopping short once you see what he’s done.
Fairy lights dangle above the loft, illuminating what looks like a poorly built blanket fort. Christmas lights he clearly stole from his mom are hung haphazardly from the rafters. You can see the effort he put into making the barn feel special, even if the execution is lacking.
It’s the nostalgia of it all that makes you smile. Summer’s spent camping out in the barn, hidden away under blanket forts, and trying to scare each other with your bad ghost stories. It’s a time capsule of your childhood. And you know what he’s trying to do, how he’s trying to soften the hard edges of your resentment. You hate that it’s beginning to work.
Clark heads up to the loft first, glancing over his shoulder and motioning for you to follow. You sigh, face blank as you work to keep up the cool exterior you feel slowly melting away. He offers his hand as you reach the top, and after a beat of hesitation, you reluctantly take it.
Clark pulls you forward and keeps your hand in his as he leads you to sit down across from him. Sinking back into the plush pillows and blankets you prop your head in your hand, watching him with a bored expression. Sucking in a deep breath, he rubs his hands along the surface of his jeans, avoiding your eyes for a moment.
“I didn’t want our first kiss to be in some bar.” He chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck before finally meeting your eyes. “I didn’t want our first anything to be there. I wanted it to be somewhere like this, somewhere that actually meant something to us.”
His throat bobs as he swallows. Then he leans closer, reaching across the space between you, his fingers curling around yours again. The warmth of his palm is comforting, even if you don’t let him see that. “I don’t want to lose my best friend. I don’t want to lose you, you have to believe me. What happened last night, it wasn’t me.”
Your expression hardens and you yank your hand from his, putting distance between you. Clark’s face flickers with hurt, but you ignore it. “Why should I believe anything you say, Clark? What happened last night was an eye-opener. Clearly, we’re better off just being friends.”
He sucks in a sharp breath, looking like you’ve just punched him in the gut. “You don’t mean that,” he murmurs.
“Don’t I?”
Clark drops his head into his hands, fingers threading through his hair. His shoulders curl inward, and for a long while, he doesn’t speak. The silence between you stretches, thick with unspoken words.
Maybe it would be better for you to just leave. Some space might do both of you good, and help you come to terms with the truth of it all.
This was never going to work.
Clark exhales slowly, then straightens, blue eyes meeting yours with an intensity that catches you off guard. “Alright,” he nods, some internal battle going on that you’re not privy to. “Stand by the window.”
Your brows furrow and you shake your head. “What?”
“Do it,” he tells you, tone firm, and you find yourself struggling for a reason not to listen. Finally, with a reluctant huff, you get up and go stand by the window.
The golden fields stretch before you bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. The wheat sways gently in the evening breeze. Utterly boring and un-fascinating.
You roll your eyes, “Clark, I swear-”
A distant whistle cuts through the air. You whip around, expecting to see Clark behind you and instead find the loft empty. Your stomach tightens and you turn back to the window. A flicker of movement catches your attention, “What the…”
You press against the window, squinting at the field below. That’s when you see him. A very small Clark waves from the middle of the wheat, far too distant for how quickly he got there. Your breath catches and you find yourself waving back without thinking.
There’s no possible way he crossed all that in under thirty seconds.
But he’s not satisfied with just an impressive show of speed. Clark disappears and then reappears right below the barn window. Only, he’s not alone.
Above his head, with terrifying ease, he’s holding a goddamn tractor. Your heart slams against your ribs. “Clark!” You shout, terrified this little stunt of his is going to end with him sandwiched into the dirt. He sets it down casually, as if it weighs nothing.
A gust of wind pushes your hair forward and you turn sharply. Clark stands behind you now, cheeks flushed, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “What the hell was that?” You demand, eyes darting between him and the tractor outside.
“It’s what I wanted to tell you. What I’ve always wanted to tell you,” he concedes, his smile faltering slightly, his voice tinged with something vulnerable.
Still stunned, you sink onto the couch as he begins to explain. About the crash landing. About his powers. How he’s different.
Your best friend- your almost-boyfriend, is an alien.
Of all the things racing through your mind, only one question comes to mind. “Why have you never told me?” You don’t ask him if he was from Jupiter or Mars, or if he’s got a secret eye hidden somewhere. You just want to know why he didn’t think he could trust you.
Clark hesitates. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he says, “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me anymore. That you’d see me as some freak.”
You snort, “You’re an idiot is what you are.”
His head snaps up, blinking at you in surprise. “Clark, why would I ever care about what planet you’re from?” You shake your head, a smile creeping onto your lips as you shift forward, kneeling in front of him. Your hands find his, squeezing slightly. Then, hesitantly, you reach up, cupping his cheek. A smile spreads across your face as he leans into the touch. “I care about you, not about what rocket you crash-landed in.”
“More of a pod,” he corrects and you shoot him a sharp look that makes him laugh. He sobers quickly, smile fading, “I understand if you can’t forgive me for last night.”
“Well,” you muse, tilting your head. “It wasn’t really you, right? It was that krypto- karo-”
“Kryptonite,” he grins a little at the way you stumble over the word. “And, yes, it was. I would never purposefully hurt you, but it’s not an excuse.”
“It’s actually the only acceptable excuse,” you tell him, rolling your eyes playfully. “That or evil twin.” Clark’s eyes widen slightly and you narrow yours. “Do you actually have an evil twin?” You shake your head, “Never mind, we’ll talk about that later.”
You glance up at the twinkling lights strung above, the warm glow making the loft feel impossibly soft, impossibly safe. “Clark?” You ask and he hums, already looking at you when you glance back at him. “We can always try that first kiss again.”
His smile, soft and sweet, mirrors your own. As you lean in, his arms circle your waist, pulling you gently into him. Your fingers thread through the soft tresses of his hair as his lips brush against yours, soft, lingering, right.
This. This is what you knew it would feel like. This is home and safety, everything good in your life. You smile against Clark’s lips knowing that no matter what evil twins or toxic rocks come at you, you’ll face it together.
end. — I do not own the characters or the TV Show Smallville, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © scribes-of-valar 2025. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#clark kent#clark kent smallville#clark kent smallville x reader#smallville#smallville x reader#clark kent x you#superman x reader#superman x you#superman#DC x reader#DC x you#smallville x you#clark kent drabble#clark kent x reader#clark kent x fem reader#clark kent x y/n#clark kent imagine#clark kent fanfiction#superman 2025#reader insert
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Echoes of Silence | E is for Edging
⤷ Ft. Dazai Osamu
V. A. L. E. N. T. I. N. E.
Warnings | Fem!Reader, N.SFW, 18+ only, edging, slight mind break, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, WC: 1k
A/N: Idk why but I struggled so hard with writing this one, I hope it came out just as well as the rest did <3
Dazai had been clingy all day, performatively so. You could sense that something was off, even for Dazai the dramatics were a little much. But trying to pry it out of him was never an option, so when he asked to come over you were simply resigned to accepting.
It has been what feels like hours since Dazai came over to your dorm and each passing second is becoming even more agonizing than the last. Dazai is toying with both of you tonight. He was quick to strip you of your clothes and have his way with you before the front door even fully shut. His desperate hands exploring your skin with urgency.
Nightly visits like these usually only last about an hour, maybe two, but tonight is definitely different. It’s been almost three hours and Dazai isn’t letting either one of you finish. You’ve been on the edge for probably two and half of those hours and it’s torture.
This is cruel and unusual punishment and it’s all Dazai’s fault.
Every time one of you is about to come he slows down or pulls out completely only to distract you by kisses. His lips sear every inch of your body. Dazai gives you absolutely no time to protest or to rest. It gives you each only a few moments before he’s diving into you again with the same agonizing pace he’s set, slower and harder than usual.
You're a mess, your brain has been turned to mush and the only coherent thought you’ve managed to keep intact is the need to release. Your ability to speak is in the same condition. Pleas of your need to release spilling from your swollen lips, but they fall on deaf ears because Dazai clearly has no plans of granting any of your requests.
The brunette is too caught up in his own need to release. He isn’t just torturing you, but himself too. He can’t rip his eyes away from the way your glistening sloppy cunt sucks him in and keeps a vice grip hold. He’s not sure where the self control is coming from but he barely manages to keep this up. The only thing keeping him from letting you finally cum is the thought of having to go back to his dorm and spend the rest of this night alone with his own thoughts.
He’d be damned if he let that happen when your company is so, so much sweeter than his own.
Even now, your incoherent words sound like music to his ears. “‘Samu…’Samu, please. I can't- ‘s too much- ahh- I need to- oh my god- I need to cum, please, please…”
It’s getting harder for Dazai to deny you and he thinks he’s on the verge of giving in. Even so, Dazai’s movement instinctively slows down and you let out a hiccuped sob. He looks down at you and he really thinks he’s gonna lose all senses. You are a beautiful mess — a devastatingly beautiful mess. Your hair is matted down on your face from a mix of tears and sweat. Your eyes rimmed red from the amount of crying you’ve done. Skin flushed the prettiest pink color and marks littered your body, courtesy of Dazai himself.
In the split moment it takes for the agent to admire you, clearly distracted, you wrap your legs around his waist. It’s your desperate attempt to keep him close and finally give you what you’ve been begging him for. As if Dazai’s conviction hadn’t already been crumbling, this was the final blow to send it crashing all the way.
Dazai picks up his speed and crashes his lips into your own as you both finally find that release you’ve been chasing for hours. Your room is filled with muffled moans mixed together and the wet sound of Dazai’s hips crashing into yours before stilling completely and spilling inside of you. Everything is dizzy and Dazai can’t form a single thought. His mind is filled with fog and his ears stuffed with cotton. Nothing is registering but the white hot pleasure pooling in his stomach and spreading through his entire body like electricity.
His length throbs inside of you with each release of his seed that he’s pouring into you. The build up made his plummet last longer than it usually would. His whole body twitches, already hypersensitive and he hasn’t even completely finished inside of you yet. Dazai’s vision focuses and you’re in no better shape. Your eyes are still screwed shut and your body is borderline convulsing. The tight grip you have around both his waist and his cock keeps him from pulling away from you at all.
When you’ve both come down, the brunette can’t bring it in himself to get up to clean himself and leave. Instead he collapses into your hold, laying face down into your chest. By the sound of your breathy chuckle and the way you begin to run your fingers through his hair, despite it being wet from sweat, Dazai can tell you’ve come back to reality.
Dazai shifts, making an effort to pull away but the action is stiff. He doesn’t want to leave but he knows if he doesn’t, he will be overstaying his welcome. Your hold on him, however, doesn't falter and you let out a soft hum.
“Stay.” Dazai’s head shoots up at that and he just stares at you for a few moments. You’re visibly nervous and start to elaborate when you really don’t need to because Dazai was already sold by the single syllable. “It’s later than usual and I really don’t mind the company. Also your body must be exhausted.”
Dazai tries to widen his eyes in shock but the detective’s eyelids become too heavy for him to keep open anymore and he wordlessly resigns. His head drops back to your chest — this time he makes sure to make himself more comfortable on top of you. He decides to stay nestled in between your thighs even though he’s softened now.
Dazai doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t think he has to, his body language is enough to tell you he’s not going anywhere.
#dazai x reader#dazai smut#bsd x reader#bsd smut#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs smut#dazai x you#bsd x you#bungo stray dogs x you#dazai x fem!reader#bsd x fem!reader#bungo stry dogs x fem!reader#bsd dazai#writings ʚїɞ
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Make Me Feel Something
pairing: wanda maximoff + y/n ( mentions of vision )
warnings: 18+, overstimulation, teasing, spit, fingering, lesbian, clit play
summary: when you share disappointing news with wanda about catching vision acting out behind her back, her anger spirals and she takes it out on you, but she has no idea of the wormhole of feelings she's just opened up
3.6k words
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/46370d04c09a92c6ace75d974d146b70/a14bf24ee05d2144-0a/s540x810/93fa0119ffd1eb95c27700863bc4355fa4a82289.jpg)
“i didn’t need your help!”
wanda’s hand rockets towards you, jarring you square in the shoulder and nearly knocking you backwards. her other hand, dispelled in crimson swirls, sending the door behind herself slamming shut with such a force you swear the entire compound heard the commotion by now.
“-and what was i supposed to do,” you furrow your brows, perplexed, but with enough venom on your tongue to portray you have no intention of backing down, “not to tell you that i didn’t see your robotic boyfriend with some other woman?”
you stare back at wanda cross, but the bubbling hurt and anger only seems to swell behind green, flecks of red dancing like static in them momentarily.
“vision would never, he actually loves me unlike you spilling lies at me, you’re supposed to be my best friend! why would you make up something like this, out of jealousy?” she spits, seething at this point as she steps towards you in intimidation, though you know the reality of her nature is she would never actually lay a hand on you.
“you’re not thinking clearly,” you shake your head, sympathy laced in your tone, “even if i am lying, why would i do that knowing it would hurt you? do you think that low of me, wanda?” you can tell your words ring logic through her, she knows you would never do something or say something to intentionally hurt her, but right now she is too jaded to even remotely put herself first over another she loves, nothing unusual for her character.
wanda seems to hesitate, as if her initial counter to your question was not a substantial enough response. she can’t fight logic, not right now. her mind
behind it all, you know she’s hurting, reeling behind a fairytale of whom she saw as a lifelong partner now having deceived her.
yet, a part of you always saw this coming after all, he was just a construction of wires and vibranium. at some point his ‘brain’ would malfunction, and you didn’t merely assume that just based on your original disdain for him coming into wanda’s life.
“y/n, just go,” the words nearly sting, as selfish as that feels right now when really wanda is the only one with the right to feel anguish.
unknown to her that for years you’d sat, watching and observing her, silently mesmerized and foolishly in love with the idea that maybe one day wanda would come to terms that the idea of being with you would’ve been a more viable option over vision to begin with. it was torture enough watching them oggle over one another around the compound.
but now he’s the villain in the story, and it’s not exactly the prime moment to confess your feelings long hidden for her. no, it would be too selfish and look as if you were spinning her hurt into an opportunity. you know it would not be the ideal way to confess your deep desire you’ve held for her, imagining her like a high school crush and what it would be like to be loved in that way by her, instead of the friend pledged in loyalty to her.
“wands-“
“get the fuck out!” this time her words are the ones landing venomously, usually the innocence in the nickname grounds her, but not now. not today.
“i can’t just leave you-“
wanda lurches forward, reaching with brisk hostility to grab your upper arm in an attempt to drag you back to the door and out of her bedroom. but you’re quicker, your reflexes are more time– thanks to romanoff’s training. your fingers spool around her wrist, stopping the motion and catching her off guard, enough to send her tripping over herself.
“fuck- you-“ this time wanda’s voice cracks, a pant between each for her loss of balance and catching herself before she falls against you. you can hear the innocence and muddled hurt even under the harsh words. any sparks of red had dissipated from the green in her eyes, now overtaken by the rising swell of tears giving them a glassy aura.
your eyes flick to her mouth as the slur falls from her lips, it even looked unnatural coming from them and you certainly couldn’t bear to watch those tears fall. you’d seen her say those words before, but this time it was different. it wasn’t in jest, yet it wasn’t necessarily in hatred or true anger. the only place it was coming from was agony and the incomprehension of her own emotions right now.
she’d lost so much already, given so much of herself for those she cared about, it only made your heart wretch further. all you wanted to do was console her.
wanda was so inexplicably close to you right now, enough to feel the heat of her breath on your face. it made the hair at the base of your neck stand up, her scent overwhelming you. your thoughts only whirled further, flashes of knowing how in pain she was.
a mix of impulsivity and selfishness to give in to temptation was overwhelming. all you wanted right now was to try and take her pain away in any way possible right now. a distraction. but also a longing release of your own feelings for her. your thoughts swirl a million miles a minute, briefly forgetting about the current situation you’re in.
before you can comprehend your own thoughts, deciding between right and wrong, the heat of wanda’s breath recedes, replaced with a harsh and violent pressure against your lips. it takes you a moment to understand the situation, wanda’s lips now pressed feverishly against yours. there’s a swelling taste of salt and copper washing through your mouth. a mix of her tears, and a stray drop of blood from the newly opened cut on your bottom lip, caused by the velocity of your lip caught between hers and your teeth. her hands had cupped your face at the initial contact, black nails pressing into the back of your jaw as if you might slip away. it stings at first, but you let it be.
you have to break it, this isn’t right, this is wrong. wrong on so many levels. wanda’s heart was broken right now, and this seemed disingenuous.
but you also can’t ignore the immediate warmth that travels through your abdomen, feeling it spin in guilt but also reprieve for finally feeling wanda’s lips against yours that doesn’t stem from a drunken dare.
still, your mind temporarily outweighs your heart and body, and you jerk back, “wanda.. i can’t, th-this isn’t right.” you fumble over the words, almost trying to explain yourself for an action that you didn’t even initiate. meanwhile, sliding your tongue along your bottom lip to quell the sting and erase any last evidence of blood on the small cut.
“you want to make me forget, you want to help, you want this. so just shut up, and make me feel something else- please.” her tone is desperate, pleading, but also firm on where she stands.
your mouth falls agape, wanting to rebuttal, argue this isn’t how you want it to go, that you actually do love her. but now’s not the time, you can connect the dots that she’d already gotten this idea because she’d picked through your thoughts in that moment of silence where she couldn’t find her own words.
now you only had one thing you could do to actually help her in this moment- make her feel something else. her words, right? she was giving you approval.
wanda seeks the opportunity again, impatient and just as harsh with need. aside from the swelling guilt, you can’t help but indulge simultaneously. you can still taste the reminisce of a stray tear or two, but it’s begun to fade. she’s already begun to lose herself in the moment, letting every other thought leave her mind as she sought safety and pleasure in the only person she had left that she truly cared for.
you.
both of your feet are nearly tripping over the other, trying to walk backwards towards her bed as your hands finally give in, rising around the back of her neck. your fingers instantly tangle into locks of fiery orange, gripping just enough to encourage wanda to continue. and she does.
the room has already begun to envelope in a heavy heat, ragged and desperate breaths laced in a mix of emotions but ultimately indulged in the moment. the worry of guilt is still there, but now just a small pit in your stomach as her breathing hitches with each step and between barely audible moans.
wanda pressures you further until you’re both stood parallel to the bottom edge of the bed. you prepare for her to break the kiss when you feel her mouth fall slightly more agape. you want to ask her for reassurance, that this is okay.
before you can manage the words, wanda quickly presses her tongue between your parted lips, not hesitating to explore along your own, running hers along the roof of your mouth. you almost feel embarrassed at the amount of saliva welling up in your mouth and hers, but she only swallows it back hungrily.
a twisting thought wonders if wanda had fantasized this in someway, especially by the speed of her actions, seeming to barely think twice. was there a part of her who had wanted this as well?
the guilt seems void right now, replaced by a thrumming heat gathering between your thighs. wanda seems entirely awash in lust, both your tongues taking turns exploring one another’s mouths.
this time you make your move before wanda can. your hands abandon her hair, quickly working off her jacket, allowing her to shrug it to the floor between kisses as you begin to pull at the bottom hem of her shirt. this time she’s pulls away, but only enough for you to allow space to pull her shirt up and over her head. at first, she doesn’t jump back into the kiss, allowing herself to catch her breath as her hands reach behind her back. it takes you only a second to comprehend.
you had tried not to stare, but as wanda reaches for the strap of her bra to unhook it, you take a second to take in the sight. her breasts perfectly fill the cups of the black bra. it’s simple, no lace or embroidery, just black silk cotton, and still she makes it look like an expensive garment.
in a heartbeat, everything in your face runs cold, as she slips her bra from her shoulders and lets it fall to the ground. you can’t help but indulge now. you’d inappropriately fantasized about wanda’s body before, especially her breasts when she wore that one corset, but having her exposed and vulnerable in front of you felt entirely on another plane of existence.
her nipples are a perfect tone of rosey-pink, already perky and hardened from what you can only assume is arousal considering you were already both panting from the desperation in the previous kisses.
you can’t stop yourself, you raise a hand, palm cupping the under of her breast and swiping a thumb over the hardened bud. when the action elicits a shy moan from wanda, it nearly makes you groan in approval as the heat between your legs surmounts with need. “wanda..”
“keep going- i promise, it’s okay, y/n-“ she manages as she seems to adjust herself so that her one breast is flush in your palm now, garnering another subtle moan from the sensitivity.
you realize this moment is truly going to be all about wanda. not you, even despite the ache between your legs, but honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way tonight. you had dreamt of wanda desiring you in this way and now she was explicitly asking you.
“i’ll take care of you,” you hold her eyes with yours as you gently readjust you both so that the back of her knees are against the bed, “just can i ask one thing from you?”
wanda wants to question you, you can tell by the faint look of confusion, but she only nods.
“stay standing until you can’t…” even in the dimming light of the room from the sun beginning to set, you swear you can see the faint flush of red in her cheeks as you slightly lower yourself just enough to get your mouth level with her breasts.
wanda gives you a single nod, her hips shifting leading you to assume she’s become as aroused as you are now. for a moment, as she’s looking down to you, you swear you saw the shadow of a nervous smile. you hold her gaze for a moment as you take one of her nipples into your mouth, using a hand to palm and massage the other abandoned breast.
wanda nearly crumbles at just that, it’s been too long since she’s been touched like this, but she remains upright.
her head lolls back, a strained “y/n..” falling from her lips in a sultry moan that only encourages you to continue.
you suck at her nipple, occasionally using your teeth to graze the sensitive tissue. your hand stays busy, switching between massaging her breast in your palm and using your thumb to tease the nipple.
wanda is rather shy for the time being, you can tell she’s trying to hide any roll in her hips, desperate for friction where she needs it most. her moans are still barely audible, but they’re there as you make sure to alternate each breast fairly.
your free hand massages up her thigh gingerly, following along her pelvis until you stop to work at the button and zipper of her jeans. you’ve been careful to take your time, but not enough to drive her mad just yet.
when you pull your mouth away from her breast along with the other hand, you could’ve sworn you heard the faintest whimper. it satisfies you for a moment knowing how indulged wanda is, and how tentative you’re being with her body.
“why…” wanda manages, but you don’t give her a response. instead, you fully lower yourself, the hand previously working at her jeans now slides the zipper down fully.
“oh…” she manages, chin dropping to watch you get on your knees as you begin to shimmy her jeans down, not hesitating to bring her panties down along with them.
the denim and a pair of black underwear, falls to a clump around her ankles, her legs breaking into an array of goosebumps at her now exposed lower body. as she begins to step out of the restrictive clothing at her feet, you take the opportunity to look at her face for one last vow of approval.
“yes…” wanda’s lips are barely parted, the cold on her mound making her ache even further, “please, y/n… i promise it’s okay.,”
as if offering further permission, she carefully adjusts her legs enough to just leave ample room for you to glimpse her pussy. she’s still standing in place, knees against the bed just in case they give out as your attention finally shifts to where she needs you most.
you nearly feel the immediate gush between your thighs as you settle onto your knees, now seeing the true picture of desperation.
wanda’s folds are quite swollen, the tip of her clit just barely peaking out between them, this time you can’t stifle the groan at the sight before you. her slick is painted perfectly along her slit, a bead of it daring to fall at the back of her pussy.
you hungrily lean in, want and temptation over powering anything else now as your body drives you. wanda attempts to brace herself, feeling the heat of your breath against her core as your tongue immediately darts out to lap up the string of slick at her entrance. you barely have a moment to adjust before she cries out from sudden sensitivity. it’s been quite some time for her since she’d been touched like this. vision had long seemed to distance himself, they’d barely shared any intimacy of the sort around the compound in a month or two.
wanda’s knees immediately buckle as her hips rocket forward involuntarily, painting your mouth with her slick as her clit ruts against your nose, “oh– fuck, y/n!”
hearing wanda cry out your name like that only spurs you on further. you’d anticipated teasing her, making her wait, but now it’s you who can’t after tasting her.
both of your hands shoot up, fingers splaying against the crux of where her thighs meet her pelvis and thumbs delving between wet folds to fully expose her pussy.
wanda can only react with a string of weak whines, a hand of hers shooting down and fisting into your hair to guide you to where she wants you most. you only oblige, spurred on by the visual of her swollen clit before it’s pressed flat to your tongue.
“fuck!” wanda rolls her hips, encouragingly as her shy moans turn into a slur of expletives and gasps as she rakes her clit over your tongue with each movement and tug of your hair.
her taste is overwhelming, already beginning to saturate your face as she fucks herself against it. you can’t help but moan into her, which sends vibrations along her slit that only makes her drag her entire length along your mouth now, “fuck, yes- you’re doing so good…” she swallows roughly as her head tips back, “make me feel only you, y/n.”
you’d fantasized this moment for a few years now, and the reality of now coming true has you in a chokehold. one of your hands abandons her thigh, eagerly using your ring and middle finger to press between her folds. within a second, her wetness coats your fingers, pressing them deeper until your just brushing against her entrance.
without warning you delve both fingers into her, and wanda immediately loses her balance. the one hand you have at her thigh catches her, allowing her to regain some composure as you withdraw your fingers, only to thrust back into the cling of her walls.
wanda cries out, her head falling back feeling weightless in her stomach and knees. a good portion of her weight is seated in your palm, the only thing keeping her upright at this point. she’s tight around you as your curl your fingertips to touch at the soft spot that makes her stomach flutter. she can barely manage anything coherent between gasps and whining moans from the slight sting.
you can already feel wanda chasing her climax. with each thrust of your fingers, her clit slams against the bottom of your palm. it sends her body in near convulsions as her legs tremble as she grows closer to release.
the sound of how wet she is sends you into a frenzy, your fingers diving deeper and more quickly into her pussy. the entirety of your palm has begun to become wet from her slick, beginning to lose friction of her clit as your fingers dare to slip out each time.
“wanda– cum for me now,” you manage as you readjust your hand more upright, not hesitating as you lean in to drag your tongue across her swollen clit. the taste of her makes you feverish for more. it’s a perfect balance of her sweetness and slight salt.
wanda immediately buckles, a slur of expletives as the heat in her stomach rises as your tongue continues to rake viciously against her clit, your fingers driving in and out of her. it takes only a few more seconds before she completely unravels. her walls snap tightly around your fingers as she falls to her knees, being unable to catch her in time, you only help her to the ground.
her hands fall beside her, bracing on the floor as her hips just upwards and as her head falls backwards onto the edge of the bed. your fingers feel slightly sore from her tightness, her pussy fully exposed in front of you as her knees are spread as she sits in front of you. the carpet beneath her garners a small wet stain as she lets her release paint over your hand and down to the ground.
“y/n– that… i’m so sorry,” wanda pants out with remorse as her body settles, you withdraw your fingers quickly, not disingenuously, wiping them on your leg to be able to cup her face as she lowers her head back to look at you. there’s a bit of regret behind her eyes, and she notices the flash of worry, “no– no, you didn’t do anything. i just don’t want you to think i took advantage of you,” wanda’s body relaxes more, beads of sweat on her skin as she sits naked in front of you, apologizing for something that she has no need to.
“wanda, you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that with you,” you look at her sheepishly, and she somewhat offers a smile back to you.
“we’re not done then…” she manages, now looking at you reassuringly, “let me take care of you.”
you look at her, nearly stunned as her hands reach to pull you back into her. “wanda- what about vis-
“no, nothing about him right now, please,” she shifts, her face growing closer to yours, “let that be tomorrow’s problem. let me enjoy you and i tonight, we will worry about tomorrow when it comes.”
you hesitate, but only flash her a toothy smile out of helplessness. if this is what she wants, even after the exhausting outpour of emotions, it gives you the necessary reassurance that wanda wants you in some capacity as well.
so you let her.
#marvel#wanda maximoff x yn#wanda maximoff x y/n#y/n#wanda maximoff x reader#scarlet witch x you#scarlet witch x reader#wandamaximilfposts#wanda maximoff smut#marvel smut#scarlet witch smut#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#fem!reader#scarlet witch x fem!reader#scarlet witch#wanda maximoff
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Senku l. (before & after the stone)
Headcanons, sfw,nsfw, suggestive…
Author’s note: Senku is a fictional character he is canonically 15-16 in the beginning of the series and 17-18 by season 3 not taking account for the manga which he is older. If in the future I make works on characters you deem unfitting for the roll of nsfw fiction or suggestive works of while aged up feel free to block me! Also a reminder that this is a fictional character, made up of lines/pixels. Do not waste your time writing petty hate comments which I will remove and are a waste of your life which you will not get back. I choose to be delusional about fictional characters for my own satisfaction, good day!
Word count: a lot
Before the stone
Sfw
Senku is a bit more less responsible before the stone as he is allowed to act like a kid. He often spends his time in the school lab or at home and can be seen with is small group of friends. (Taiju Oki and Yuzuriha Ogawa.)
Love and romantic relationships are something Senku has found himself uninterested in his teenage years. Dedicating himself to his craft and love for science.
You can take science away from the man but not the science from the man. (You really can’t do either)
Senku has found people conventionally attractive to a specific statistical standard but not to him personally and probably won’t ever given he doesn’t have a common attraction to physical attributes.
Though through statistics he can still find someone who he would be generally attracted to physically. Someone with glasses, makes their interests obvious ex: paint on body all the time, a lab coat or constantly wearing something of their special interest would be people he gravitates towards.
(As someone who is neurodivergent in the worst ways I think half the cast is autistic or a Shokunin if you will a person deeply dedicated to their craft.) So someone as such will attract Senku not romantically of course but they will be bound to cross paths.
There are a multitude of ways you could meet you might never meet but to keep it simple I’m going to give you a multitude of possibilities to have rot in your head.
Being apart of the school’s science club is one way always spending time with him constantly in the science room after school.
Being a dumbass needed tutoring friends with one of his friends but not with Senku directly, or competing for higher grades, a good enemies to lovers. Maybe you’re even apart of the school’s science club making you and Senku acquaintances if anything.
Senku doesn’t back down from competition when it comes to brains but quickly when it comes to fights. Being rivals to Senku is a good asset in the stone world getting you to be one of the first few people to be revived truly testing if you’re book smart (can do it in theory on paper in school) and street smart (do it for real and faster than the time given in school).
Senku was hesitant more than he ever has been getting in a relationship with you. Being shy was simply not an option for him, he thought it was a waste of time often making him coming off as stiff and blunt.
A relationship of romantic interest with Senku will never be said nor be official. He will never say he loves you or that he likes you even give he believes actions speak louder than words. If you give him time you will see through subtle ways that he is attracted to you. 
He will ask you about things that don’t matter much: like should I choose this or that color the small things…
He’ll allow you to touch his hair if your one for pda, he won’t reciprocated often at most leaning into the touch out of pure comfort. He won’t push you off understanding that this is a love language (that did take him a while to understand.)
Senku’s love language is quality time and gift giving. This is more often seen in the stone world but it expressed as well before hand even more so if you’re a science nerd along with him.
He’ll be willing to conduct experiments with you along with share materials with you which is a rare thing for him being an only child never having to share much of anything.
I believe that Senku is aroace or at the very least ace. He can still have platonic love and relationships but isn’t fond of romantic ones being in a romantic relationship from his perspective is his treating you like a best friend practically treating you like a mixture between yuzuriha and Kohaku.
Suggestive
Anything remotely romantic would have to be initiated by you and 9/10 you’re going to either get pushed off. Or he just sits there waiting for you to get over with it. Something like the (kohaku kissing Senku scene in season 3)
For your sake he has experimented once or twice before with make out sessions or kissing to get you to do something (like get you to do an experiment with him.) any kind of physical touch from him romantic wise once again if not initiated by you. 
He’s a responsible enough person to know better than to have sexual intercourse at his age nor is he interested enough to risk it not that questions about it don’t cross his mind but we’ll explore those much later down the line.
Though he’s more likely to tease you occasionally and lean his arm atop your head if you’re short. Expect this more often if you have curly hair
If you have 4c or curly hair in general he will be near you more often especially if you’re a foreigner. Have issues finding hair products for your hair type in Japan? He got you give him a couple strands of your hair next thing you know he has a whole list of products for your hair and product sample packets surrounding him.
Nsfw
Sorry there is none Senku was not interested in sexual acts before the stone nor very much after.
Though he will ask you a lot of “inappropriate questions” but i promise you he’s just genuinely curious. And he’s not trying to infer anything he promises.
After the stone
As I said Senku’s love languages are gift giving and quality time. This becomes more apparent in the stone world. If you had something you held close best believe he will try his best to make it for you. If you’re an artist he’s make brushes and paint etc…
He’s a bit kinder and softer after the stone. People he has known longer therefore care for more he unconsciously takes them on more missions with him around or in a safe space.
If he knew you before the stone you’re likely to be one of the first people out of stone. Though if not you are an important asset and he sees you for your skills and talents so be grateful for that.
If you’re a creative type expect to be paired with Yuzuriha often. A martial artist or athlete expect Kohaku and Taiju.
What Senku appreciate most is people interested in his work, he loves experimenting and explaining his process even to those a who don’t understand so please entertain him for a while if you expect at friendship let alone a romantic relationship.
People who are aroace can have relationships but they can often be on sided in the romance department. It’s not that they don’t love platonically you they just don’t know how to react to that romantically or don’t want romance.(yall can choose if Senku is aroace or not) As long as you’re ok with that your relationship with Senku will be fine. (I’ll just write him as dense to love for yall though.)
Senku if he does love you will occasionally indulge in your romantic behavior and take this a complent if it was a last resort he wouldn't be against procreating with you. (it took him a lot to admit that so you better take it.)
Romantic relationships are often seen as an inconvenience given he doesn't see the need for them and doesn't think he could would be the best fit for something like that.
He true for the most part but he is able to be in a romantic relationship. It may not be as romantic as a you like but if he has an interest in you he will unconsciously do these things. Don't expect any hand-holding and kissing though.
The only way you could get him to hold your hand is for technical reasons like you not getting lost.
Suggestive
I do agree with the fact that Senku would experiment on his significant other and I think this would be more common before the stone but in small ways.
An unexpected romantic act to see how you respond.
He will use this advantage if gen tells him you like him or something for free labor but we won’t abuse it he’s not that mean.
The only way I could see a “relationship forming” Is Senku using you for labor and “paying you” with physical touch. Kisses, hugs and stuff, he likes you platonically but as time goes on he starts experimenting with you first it’s his far will you go for each type of affection. Then it’s soon how will you react to this or that. He says it’s not you that he loves but the reaction you make like a chemical reaction in your mind. Knowing his autistic ass it might be true but the way he acts makes you unsure.
Or maybe finding a girl smarter than him would rial him up he might see you as arrival at first. You guys could be partners, he swears he doesn’t love you, but the science you create the knowledge you know, that wrinkly brain of yours.
He tends to have a love for things rather than people in a way he loves science and the things people are good at their talents but maybe not themselves, he swears but he does establish relationships with characters like Gen and Chrome as friends so I’m sure he can establish a romantic relationship if we take this route.
Then I could actually get into how Senku would “experiment” with his “friend” this would create an friends with benefits kinda situation but it’s not like Senku sees it like that he just doesn’t have time for labels and probably wouldn’t care about it. Just don’t call him pet names because he doesn’t like it. The relationship would be private so the villagers don’t make a fuss, for as far was that would last with Gen around.
NSFW - ish
Let’s talk about Senku’s experiments
Of course you consented to this but you might know what your getting into 100%
It’s basically just a very handsy check up while he asks you questions you may or may not be able to answer.
Ex: “Are your breast sensitive? There is a high concentration of nerve endings present in that area, making them one of the most sensitive parts of the body. While he’s over here playing with them in every way imaginable. He’s going to continue to do this for every inch of your body and take an analysis writing how painful each part is and or sensitive.
So I’ll let you guys imagine that
Thank you for reading!!
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#anime#netflix anime#bf#dr stone#dcst smut#dcst#dcst x reader#dcst x reader smut#dcst brainrot#dcst senku#dr stone senku#senku ishigami x reader smut#senku x reader smut#senku ishigami x reader#senku smut#ishigami senku x reader#senku x reader#senku ishigami#ishigami senku#senku#senku smut#senku x y/n#senkuishigami#Senku x Black reader#x reader#dr stone x reader
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Weekly Recap | February 3rd-9th 2025
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Less than a month until 9-1-1 is back on our screens babyyyyy! how's everyone doing after that kiss hug in the rain scene???
Complete
You And I Walk A Fragile Line (I Have Known It All This Time) by pinkpeachtea (Hug In The Rain Spec | 1,3K | Teen): "Eddie?" Buck asked, voice breaking on the name as he noticed the car door opening again, staying open– probably getting the entire interior wet. And it was hard to see- especially through the rain- but if Buck wasn't just hallucinating, it'd actually look like… He was walking right towards him. Careful at first, slowly, until his steps got quicker– jogging that turned into running. Buck could feel his feet again, though he had no control over them as he found himself walking towards Eddie, meeting him not quite halfway when he came to a halt and– "Why did you stop?"
lull of you by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Getting Together | 1,7K | Teen): For as long as Buck can remember, Eddie’s ability to express himself has left him in awe—the way that, although it sometimes takes a minute for him to get there, whenever he’s ready, he’ll rip his heart out of his own chest and present it on a silver platter. With a thumb pressed to Buck’s pulse point—or both—and deep, warm, earnest eyes. Buck has never been like that—he goes all out before he’s even sure what he feels; he’s dramatic and emotional, and clingy, and his emotions often run his actions miles ahead of his brain. (Not that he hasn’t come to terms with that by now—he is who he is, and he’s learned to appreciate it.) The interesting thing is, though—despite his regular habit of rushing things to beat his tendency to overthink in a lap around the racetrack—for once, tonight, his brain feels… quiet. Calm.
& such by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (87K | Teen): prompts and spec fics and codas and all the works jumbled mumbled into one place.
22. reunions (Eddie back from Texas | 2K): Buck kind of—avoids Eddie when he gets back. He knows he shouldn’t. The thing is, his heart still feels so bruised. It still feels like it’s lying there on the road, soaking up the gravel and the cement and the area just under Eddie’s tires, and he’s—tired. He’s tired. He just wants a second, to recuperate, before he goes back out there and pretends like everything is okay.
No Take Backs by Maximoff_Wanda (Friends to Fiances | 2K | Not Rated): “Marry me,” he blurted out, causing the other man to freeze and turn to stare at him. “What?” Eddie slowly lowered himself down on one knee, keeping eye contact with Buck, his blue eyes widening as he watched Eddie sink to the ground. Somewhere in the background, he hears a woman squealing as she notices what’s happening. Eddie clears his throat, grabbing one of Buck’s hands as a crowd starts to form around them. “Buck... Evan. There is nothing more that I want than to spend the rest of my life getting pretzels with you at the zoo listening to your endless fun animal facts while you buy our son sugary confections that he doesn’t need just because it makes him happy... So will you please marry me?”
When I see you again by Maximoff_Wanda (Hug In The Rain Spec | 2K | General): Buck sighed as the sky opened up and a drizzle of rain began to pour over them as they walked out of the Diaz house toward Eddie’s truck. Of course, it had to rain the day the love of his life left for Texas. Now that he’s thinking about it, Buck realized it was always raining when Buck and Eddie lose each other.
i knew it when you looked my way (that i'd be begging you to stay) by teaspoonmoon/ @young-waverer (Hug In The Rain Spec | 2K | General): When Eddie pulls Buck in, Buck melts, wrapping one arm over his shoulder and the other under his arm, palms wide to cling to as much of Eddie as he can hold. Buck’s chin settles in the crook of Eddie’s neck and he breathes in deeply, trying to commit to memory the blurred together scent of Eddie’s deodorant and shampoo and the petrichor hanging in the air. “I miss you already,” Eddie says into Buck’s ear, stubble scraping against Buck’s cheek as his mouth moves. With one last squeeze Eddie pulls away, clapping Buck just a little too hard on the shoulder. “I should probably get on the road,” Eddie says, stepping away. “Drive safe,” Buck replies, stepping after him. Eddie slides into the driver’s seat and shuts the door, drops the bag of scones into the seat next to him. He resolutely doesn’t look into the rearview mirror as he adjusts it.
But What A Ghostly Scene by icewhisper (S4, Coma Dream | 3K | Teen): Eddie had always thought if he came close to death, it’d be Shannon or his abuelo he saw who pushed him to go home – to go back to Christopher – but when a sniper nearly killed him, it was a little boy he dreamed of instead. Nearly two years later, he realizes who that little boy was.
with a little water and a little bit of sunlight by teaspoonmoon/ @young-waverer (S8E8: Wannabes | 4K | Teen): “You flipped the tablet.” “Did I?” Lord only knows how he carried out an emotional affair as long as he did if this is how good he is at lying. Buck clearly has come to some—wrong—conclusion, given the way he smirks and cocks his head. “What're you looking at, Eddie?” His tone is a little flirty, a little suggestive, and if Eddie were any less close to a panic attack he'd probably think the gulf between what Buck assumes he'd been doing and what he was actually looking at was very funny. — The one where it's not Homes.com but it's also not porn on the iPad.
let's go get the shit kicked out of us by love by teaspoonmoon/ @young-waverer (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): “Are you Love Actuallying me?” Eddie looks about as surprised that those are the words coming out of his mouth as Buck is to hear them. “Oh my god, what?” “Love Actually. That freaky kid who’s like thirty now but still looks like a ten year old. Runs through an airport, gets himself put on a no-fly list for love? Are you Love Actuallying me?” “For fuck’s sake, has everyone seen that movie but me?” Buck has to laugh, it’s absurd. This whole thing is absurd. He wants to rip his hair out. He also, as of thirty minutes or maybe six years ago, wants to rip Eddie’s shirt off, but that’s not his main focus at the moment.
Will you still be with me (when the magic’s all run out?) by scarmaddiewrites (Witch Buck AU | 5K | Not Rated): Buck is a witch and in love with Eddie…that really it.
Cupid, Q-Words, and Cursed Shifts by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Post-S8A, Valentine's Day | 5K | Teen): A slow shift at the firehouse gets derailed when someone accidentally says the Q-word, Eddie pines over Buck, and the new Probie panics about Valentine's Day.
I’ll tell them put me back in it (and I would do it again) by paleredheadinascifi (Getting Together | 5K | Teen): Eddiaz is listening to the slowburn friends to lovers playlist. Eddiaz listened to the POV you’re falling in love with your best friend playlist. Eddiaz listened to the sad gay yearning hours playlist. Eddiaz listened to the he was my best friend and that was the worst part playlist. Or, Eddie doesn't know how to make his listening history private. Buck doesn't know what to do with the words in front of his eyes. Chris cannot believe he has to deal with either of them.
Eddie Diaz's Emotional Support Group Chat by scarmaddiewrites (Chat fic, Post-S8E8: Wannabes | 6K | Teen): Eddie makes a group chat to help him with his plan to woo Buck… It goes about as well as you think it would.
promise what you will, something good for me by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Fake Relationship, Getting Together | 6K | Teen): Eddie forms a one-sided beef with a woman claiming to be psychic and ropes Buck into a fake dating scheme to try and prove all her predictions wrong.
your slightest look easily will unclose me by teaspoonmoon/ @young-waverer (S8E6: Confessions, PWP | 7K | Explicit): Eddie takes in a deep breath and reaches out and sets his hand on Buck’s knee, fingers wrapping around his lower thigh, pinky brushing his inseam. “Hey. If you were my first, you’d be my last.” The air is still between them and feels charged in a way it wasn’t a moment ago. Careful not to dislodge Eddie’s hand, Buck stretches his arm out to grab the tequila. Watching Eddie out of the corner of his eye, he knocks back another half shot. Eddie doesn’t retract his hand, and the heat of it is starting to seep through the denim of Buck’s jeans. “Sure.” Buck sounds weary. “That’s easy for you to say, when it’s—when it’s just hypothetical.” “What if…” Eddie’s grip on Buck tightens marginally. “What if it wasn’t a hypothetical?”
We're Overdue for a Revival by BespectacledBunny (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Chris coming back from Texas, Marriage of Convenience | 60K | Mature): “If I had,” Chris lingers on the words, watching Eddie intently through the screen, “If I had conditions?” Eddie feels his stomach knot up. It’s the first time Chris has ever alluded to a willingness to come home. Usually he just shoots Eddie down with a flat “I know” before hurrying off the call. Eddie Diaz will be damned before he lets this chance slip through his hands. “Anything,” his voice rings with desperation in his own ears, “Whatever you need to feel ready to come home. If I can make it happen, I will.” Chris eyes him, young face serious as a judge presiding over trial. Finally, Chris opens his mouth and says something so earth shattering as to crack the foundations of his father’s mind. “Marry Buck,” Chris says firmly.
WIP
🔥 there is no roadby littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (Post-S8A, Eddie moves to Texas | 5/6 | 77K | Explicit): Years ago, almost a full decade, Shannon had asked him to move and Eddie refused because he was trying to build a life for himself again. Eddie knows if he asks Buck, he’ll get that same refusal. Worse, Buck could say yes and Eddie would be uprooting Buck from the very life he built for himself. He doesn’t ask, and Buck doesn’t offer, and they pack up Eddie Diaz’s life in Los Angeles into cardboard boxes. Or: Eddie moves to Texas. Buck buys his house. There’s a love story somewhere in here.
🔥 how come everybody's dancing but you?by showedupatyourparty (Post-S7 Spec, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 4/6 | 45K | Mature): Buck feels guilty. Everyone he loves is going through something painful, difficult, or unexpected right now. And Buck is just…bisexual. It’s great that he’s figured it out, and it’s great that everyone has been so supportive, and Tommy is—Tommy is fine. The sex is good, at least. Consistent. When Buck gets a call from Eddie’s phone late on a Tuesday night in June, it’s cause for concern. * Buck unpacks his own feelings about his recently-discovered bisexuality. Eddie gets adopted by drag queens. They're both just trying their best to be happy.
disappearing into the distance by bucksclipboard/ @endofthedaymp3 (Eddie Comes Back From Texas, Getting Together | 2/4 | 6K | Teen): Eddie wasn’t sure why he and Maddie weren’t close. It was strange, considering her little brother was the most important person in his life. Still, when the door opened, tight hugs were exchanged and cheerful welcome homes rang in his ears. “Does Bobby know? I gotta call Bobby!”, Chimney yelled. “Could you wait a minute?”, Eddie interjected. His eyes darted between them for a moment and landed on Chim, deciding he was his best bet. “Maybe first explain to me why I went to see Buck and his loft was empty. Am I missing something? Did he move?” or: eddie comes back from texas – only to find that buck has left los angeles
🔥 Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 13/? | 81K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.
🔥 Doe & a Drop of Golden Sun by ohstars/ @oh-stars (Canon Divergent, Dad Buck | 12/? | 54K | Teen): Buck doesn't mean to keep secrets from everyone, but he also can't talk about the pain he experiences on a day to day basis. With his nine-year-old living across the country and his custody limited to one monthly visit, Buck doesn't know how to share this part of himself. How does he tell his team of six years that he's had a kid this whole time? How does he tell his sister? How does he tell his Edd-- best friend? It's fine. The universe isn't going to give him a choice in the matter when the worst thing imaginable becomes his reality.
Podfic
🔥 Cowboy With a One Track Mind by Daisies_and_Briars [Podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea)/ @rhea314 // fic by @cal-daisies-and-briars (Alternate Universe, Different First Meeting | 2.5h-3h | Mature): Spin-off Sequel to Evan Buckley & the Coma-Verse of Madness - Chapter 7 (Land): Grieving and tortured, Evan Buckley has been living alone in Montana in a remote cabin for nearly a decade. After an incident that leaves him missing six months of his life, and suddenly in connection with a group of strangers from Los Angeles, Evan must decide whether to remain in his self-imposed exile, or take a chance at life again.
🔥 [podfic] braver than you believe (loved more than you know) by be_brave13/ @djemsowhat (S8E6: Confessions Spec | 20-30min | Teen): “There's things,” Eddie chokes out, getting the closest he can in a Catholic church to saying what he means to say, words that he’s never said before unable to make an appearance even now. “There's… people… feelings that I— I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time.” “Something… different than what you had with Anna and Marisol?” The priest hedges. “Something, even, different than what you and your wife had?” The words feel insinuating, but the tone stays light and unchallenging. The priest in Eddie’s mind has big hands and curious, soulful eyes and a chunky watch on his wrist, like he could be anyone. A blond man at a bar that Eddie’s eyes keep coming back to, for no reason at all. “Yeah,” Eddie confesses. “Yeah, I’m just starting to think that… maybe there’s more to it all than I thought. Maybe, I can ask for what I thought wasn’t allowed. And I can choose what I want instead of what everyone else thinks I should have.”
🔥[Podfic] Promising Light by cottagepodfics @cottagepodfics / fic by @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Time Travel | 2-2.5h | Mature): Buck and Eddie fall asleep drunk and in separate rooms after the night of Buck and Tommy's breakup. They wake up seven years later, in an unfamiliar future, only to find out that they're married.
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Besties, Im gonna be so for real right now, this turned out to be a little more intense and freaky than I intended. Im currently playing the campaign for Modern Warfare II (reboot) and could not get this scenario out of my brain since I first saw Graves. So uh... warnings for power play, mentions of safe words, over stimulation, multiple orgasms, breeding, creepy graves. Minors Do Not Interact this is an 18+ Post. This was also written on mobile and formatted on desktop so please ignore any spelling/grammar errors, I'm too tired to proof read it and fix it
Thinking about cybersecurity CIA!Operative reader whos married to Price and is brought onto the task force by the Secretary of Defense (so above Shepherds head) to try and find the traitor, the SoD has an inkling that its Shepherd and Graves and its readers job to prove it. One of the ways she does it, because shes young and pretty and knows how to get what she wants from a man, is by flirting with Graves and gradually getting closer and closer to him until she can hack his phone and gain access to his emails. She hates it. Hates him and his arrogance, his cocky smile and the way his eyes always trace over her body and stay too long leering at her tits when they talk. He genuinely makes her feel sick and queasy, and she shivers everytime shes out of his sight after flirting with him.
Price hates it. Hates the way Graves looks at her, eyes always on her tits or ass as if she was nothing more than something to fuck and leave disgarded. He has to clench his jaw and bite his tongue anytime he sees them together, he wants to punch Graves and break his fucking jaw. Wants to take a knife and carve his heart out of his fucking chest. But he doesn’t, because he can't. It would jeporadise everything you had worked for, would jeporadise his team if Shepherd knew his little lapdog had been found out he would have all of them killed in seconds.
But when you come to him after flirting with Graves all day, locking his office door behind you and already stripping yourself from your clothes beginning him to make you forget about every look and leer and touch from Graves, hes all but happy to oblige. He kisses you something fierce, all passion with a hint of danger mixed in, all lips and teeth and desperate panting into your mouth as he sigs your bare ass on his desk one hand already toying with your nipple while the other travels further down and starts to rub hard, rough circles your clit. You were already wet thinking about him, and now it starts to pull, slicking up your tighs and his desk but John doesnt care. It wouldnt be the first time he fucked you over his desk and it wouldnt be the last either. John makes you cum from just touching your clit before he removes his finger and rakes it through your hair, grabbing at the roots and pulling so your neck was barred to him.
He so desperately wanted to mark you, leaving bitea and hickeys over your skin to claim you as his but he couldnt, do he was gentle. Trailing kisses down your pulse point and across your collarbone, down your sternum going lower and lower until his face was in front of your pussy and he dove in like a man starved. Lips wrapping around your clit and sucking harshley, a satisfying pop echoing in the room as he let go. His eyes stared up at you as you threaded your fingers through his hair, "you remember your safe word?" A nod from you is all he needs to keep going, teeth digging into the supple flesh of your tigh as he slowly slid teo fingers into your weeping hole. He made sure to push you to the edge and withdraw, over and over again until you were a crying mess and he had mercy on you, edging you again until again until he finally let you cum. He made sure you came for him 2 more times before he even entartained the thought of fucking you and when he finally pulled his cock out of his trousers (not having undressed yet, wanting your wetness to soak into his clothes) you nearly weeped from the pleasure and overstimulation when he entered you, all the way to the hilt in one go. And there was no way he was stopping until he pumped at least 2 loads into your gorgeous pussy.
He'll make you forget all about Graves, hell when hes done with you, you'll be lucky if you can even remember your own name and don't walk away pregnant.
#cod x reader#cod smut#price x reader#price smuth#john price x reader#john price smut#captain john price x reader#captain john price smut#captain price x reader#captain price smut
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Okay so bratty princess reader x bodyguard tf141 has me in a chokehold and I love it so much. Is it okay if we get more of readers internal thoughts about why she’s so polite and lovely around Simon? Like I can imagine one day princess is down in the kitchen late at night looking for more ice cream and Simon is down there brewing some tea trying to wind down for the night, and as per usual brattyness, princess asks- no.. orders Simon to make her a bowl only to be met with, “Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that luv?” Does princess care? Fuck no, and when Simon doesn’t follow directions she goes to make a bowl herself only to be met with Simon grabbing the ice cream and raising it in the air away from princess, which was easy thanks to their height difference. Gently saying “I jus’ said that it’s too late for some ice cream, let’s get some tomorrow yeah?” And princess is just in shock. She’s never been told no, and even if she was it wasn’t like THAT. Her brain all frazzled with Simon’s authoritative yet gentle demeanor, she just gives up and scoffs, mumbling little threats under her breath as she stomps up stairs to her room.
I also see princess all embarrassed about that interaction because she’s so used to men her age not being like Simon
Also is it okay if I become 🐚 anon? :3
I love your writing so much !
Hey anon… you just got me out of my writer's block and I even felt the need to break out my laptop for this and I have many ideas for more parts…. Love youuuuu and yes you can be my little sea shell anon :)
This takes place before the last part as a little bit of backstory on why our bratty princess is only an angel for Mr. Riley
“Mr. Riley. Two scoops of ice cream. Whipped cream on top.” You barked out. Not a please, not a thank you, and it definitely was not a question. If your father was to insist a broody man be with you at all times, they could at least be useful, right?
“Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that luv?”
Seriously? Who is he to tell you it’s too late for ice cream? Fuck that. You give him an eye roll, missing the way his demeanor shifts at your attitude. If you paid any attention to him you’d see he is enjoying this little attitude of yours. You move to the kitchen determined to get your sweet treat. You get your bowl and the scoop, then walk around the beast of a man and head to the freezer. As your hand reaches for the ice cream, Simon’s large hand beats you to it.
“Come on!” You’re getting frustrated. Maybe you should report this to your father, but what would he care? They’re job is to protect you, not ruin your life.
“I jus’ said that it’s too late for some ice cream, let’s get some tomorrow yeah?”
It is like your brain short circuited. Did he just tell you no? You couldn’t remember the last time someone told the princess no. But the way he said it, in the deep yet calm and authoritative tone? It is hard to process. You let out a small huff and groan (and maybe even a little stomp). As you make your way back upstairs, you replay the conversation over and over in your head.
The way his body was so close to yours, his eyes looking down at you from his hulking frame, and the way his face was soft yet suggesting you don’t try to argue with him. His whole demeanor, his body language….
You catch your face turning red and can’t help but groan as you flop into your bed. Who is this man to tell you no?? And why are you so flustered by it??
The next day as you roll out of bed the night before still plays on repeat in your head. All through your morning routine you can’t help but feel flustered. You are just hoping they have switched shifts and you don’t have to confront him again today.
The world is not on your side this morning…. When you walk down for breakfast, there he stands in the kitchen nearly in the same spot as the night before. You can feel your cheeks turning heating up again.
“Mornin’ princess.” He grumbles out. Your new bashful and embarrassed demeanor does not go unnoticed to him and you miss the way he smirks slightly. Is that all it takes to tame the bratty princess? A simple authoritative tone?
You reply with a short good morning and begin to fix your breakfast.
“Sit down luv, I already made you breakfast.”
You are shocked to find yourself following his orders thoughtlessly. It is like your brain just turns off and does whatever he tells you to do. And to be honest? You kind of like it.
Your eyes go wide as he delivers a bowl with two scoops, whipped cream, and sprinkles.
“Told you we would get some tomorrow, yeah?”
“Thank you, Mr. Riley.” You give him a small smile trying not to melt at his tone yet again.
He smiles as he turns around knowing that he’s got you tamed. It was much simpler than he thought. Just some authority and gentleness? From this moment on, you don’t question him. You never argue. You are simply a sweet princess, but only for Mr. Riley.
MASTERLIST
#fanfic#call of duty#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#ghost#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#bratty princess x 141 bodyguards#tf141 x you#tf141#tf 141 x reader#bodyguard
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i have another hasan fic idea!! (if your open to requests)
reader is a popstar and releases a surprise single (like "nasty" or "positions" by ariana grande) and he reacts to it on stream and is blushing and flustered listening to it🤭
.ೃ࿐SURPRISE SINGLE
summary — in which you drop a surprise single conveniently while hasan is streaming, and that means he has to react to it on principle.
pairings — hasan piker x popstar!reader (established relationship)
pronouns — none
word count — 1750
note — i am SO open to requests!!!!! i don't personally think he'd blush but i think he'd get flustered word-wise if that makes sense. like SUPER caught off guard by it all. not my best work but i tried </3
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WOULD HASAN CONSIDER YOU a closed off person? no. you weren't necessarily secretive either, so when you kept yourself locked away in the studio hasan had put together for you, your head in the clouds for months, he knew something was up.
he wasn't sure what exactly, just that your hands were constantly covered in pen ink by dinner time, and that you hummed the same tune as a mellow afterthought. or the way you disappeared "to the studio" but you never took your notebook with you, and usually came home with your hair a different way or covered in stray glitter.
hasan paid attention, he knew you had an album you were working on that was due to be released later in the year, but you were never this quiet about it. you bounced ideas off him, you let him sit in the studio with you and brainstorm what sound you wanted until you got distracted and gave it up for the day. it was the reason why you usually went to a proper recording studio with producers more often than needed.
either way, he trusted you. he didn't want to pry as much as it would ease the constant itch in his brain. you'd lost quite a bit in simply just dating him in the first place — people didn't like the fact that you were dating a political commentator, but you moved past it fairly easily. ignorance was truly key to happiness. you were happy.
it was like any other day. you woke up, put kaya's harness on her and held the unattached leash separately ( just in case you ran into other dogs and their owners on the way ) and went out for a run on your normal circuit in the neighbourhood. when you got back, you kissed your boyfriend through the car window as he left to go meet his personal trainer at the gym. you made a simple breakfast of cereal and fruit and retreated back to what austin had started calling your cave.
it was for one last time in a while, just to prepare a few things so that you could immediately promote the single once it dropped. it was all lined up and awaited the click of a button . . . just hours from now. you felt jittery with excitement, the secret of a few months so close to being exposed to millions.
HASAN came home and did as he usually did — ate a ridiculously protein fueled meal, took a shower, prepared his things for stream, and then joined you for an episode of the show you were currently watching. in fairness, it was the first time in a while he'd joined you or the show part of that plan, something he was incredibly confused about but not exactly bothered by. it was nice, cuddled up together on the couch, sharing moments together that weren't meals or naps or brief moments you'd bring his food to him while he was locked in on whatever he was talking about on stream.
"i have to get up," hasan's chuckle was breathy, his fingers trying to pry your hands off his bicep. you clung to him with all the strength you had, a whine building in the back of your throat.
"five more minutes," you sighed. you both knew five minutes turned to ten which then turned to at least thirty. once he had been a whole two hours late because you wouldn't let go of him, all to the point where he considered just streaming with you clinging to him like a backpack. he wouldn't, of course, but it was definitely still a thought. he knew you wouldn't care anyway, your lyrics were quite . . . questionable and anyone could decipher what your relationship was like without having to physically see it.
"you wouldn't give me five minutes when you were off being secretive," he challenged lightly, eyes rolling in a playful manner. "i promise i'll take more breaks than usual to come see you," it was a common form of negotiation in situations such as these, one you couldn't argue with.
if you were interested, you'd sit in the chair off camera that murat usually sat in, or you'd sit in the armchair he put in the room just for you to read a book while he chatted politics. you wouldn't be doing that today, not even popping in for a quick hello to ask him something like you normally did. not today.
you let go of his arm, doing so in a way that made it look like he'd finally pried your hands away, and pressed your lips against his cheek. "fine . . ." you drawled in mock disappointment. "go do your job or whatever."
he laughed, standing up from the plush couch and disappearing around the corner. you tapped on your phone, the wallpaper of you and hasan posing with his mum in front of a gingerbread house from christmas last year greeting you with the time. you had a few hours to kill before the single's release, and so in the meantime you could tidy up a few things before his parents arrived later tonight.
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HASAN, DESPITE POPULAR BELIEF, didn't actually get annoyed as easily as perceived. things had to pile up and really push every single one of his buttons to create an outburst, and one thing that certainly did that was some dumbass spamming the same thing over and over.
"dude, i can't fucking stand dumbasses like this," he sputtered out his usual rant, one that at least half of his chat could probably recite word for word. "shut the fu—" he cut himself off when he opened the link in a separate tab, a snippet of a sound he hadn't heard before paired with what he knew was footage of the richard nixon presidential library. the part that caught him off guard was that your youtube channel's name was displayed at the bottom as he paused it.
oh. it all made so much sense now. all the hours spent holed up in your studio . . . all the hidden secrets and the sudden shutting of your notebook whenever you were close enough . . . oh.
"okay," hasan cleared his throat, dragging it over to the main screen. he didn't make a big spectacle on unbanning the person who spammed the link because how could he be mad? and set the music video back to the beginning. he couldn't not watch it, not when he'd reacted to all your other songs and music videos on stream. "quick break so we can watch this."
heaven sent you to me, i'm just hopin' i don't repeat history.
already, he was justifying it in his head as if he really had to. the title, positions, had him a little nervous as if you hadn't written suggestive songs about your relationship before. it was a little more obvious in the target demographic ( himself, mainly ) when you, in the music video, were clearly meant to be depicted as the president of the united states.
boy, i'm tryna meet your mama on a sunday. then make a lotta love on a monday.
okay, it shouldn't have been a huge deal. it wasn't. once again, this was no different from what you had written before, if anything, this was probably more toned back. even with that, the fact that he had no warning about you dropping this song whatsoever had his face feeling warm at the contents.
switchin' them positions for you, cookin' in the kitchen and i'm in the bedroom . . .
he was uncharacteristically silent through the rest of the song, not glancing away from the video on his monitor. not even to stare at either one of his chat that he had open. he only snapped out of his daze when the lyrics begun to fade and the door to the room swung open.
"thoughts?" he heard your voice before he saw you, a skip in your step as you made it over to stand behind his chair. you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, eyes scanning the chat that he had finally started scrolling through again like he wasn't just at a loss for words.
"uh, i, uh," he stuttered momentarily, clearing his throat. the messages he scrolled through were turning into various greetings directed at you. you giggled softly in his ear too quiet for his mic to pick up. "you were fucking amazing, when aren't you?" he just managed to grasp his bearings, looking at you through his monitor.
"aw, i think your face is even a little pink," you leaned even closer, squinting as if to try see it through his beard. tone riddled with tease, "did i do all that?"
hasan glanced away, scoffing out a laugh that you knew was the result of him feeling flustered. he was never super vocal whenever he was embarrassed, but all the signs were there. his body heat had skyrocketed, and he twisting one of his silver rings with one hand while tapping the desk with his other. mission accomplished, you supposed. the secret song was all worth it to witness this.
"thought you'd appreciate me being the president," you shrugged, a grin spreading across your face when he didn't answer "would i be the hottest president ever?"
"mhm, i don't know," he pretended to think, "have you seen obama? man, he could hit a three."
you turned your head slowly, your eyes locking with the obama cutout leaning against the wall behind the small cutout of queen elizabeth and bernie sanders. on numerous occasions when you sat in the room while he was working or when they used to do the podcast in here, you would have to get up and turn it around so you didn't feel like obama was staring into your soul.
"yeah, okay," rolling your eyes, you straightened back up, mindlessly lifting your hands up to fluff up the back of his hair. "i'll let you get back to talking about . . ." you glanced at his other monitor, "elon musk." the face you pulled was enough to show your subtle disgust because you knew one word would have your pr bombarding your phone and you didn't really want to deal with that today.
"i'll take an encore of positions later," hasan added as an afterthought as your fingers left his hair and you waved goodbye to his stream.
"of the song or . . ." you raised an eyebrow at him, and he winked at you in response.
"surprise me."
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At sundown Chapter 3
!!MDNI!!
Previous Chapter Here
Poly!141 x reader (omegaverse)
===
A/N: I know this took so long guys, I'm sorry lol. I busted out the rest of chapter two in one night, it was kinda crazy. It was also way longer than I had originally planned, but who's complaining? Let me know if Johnny’s accent is too hard to read, sometimes this translator does some crazy things. This one’s kinda all over the place but it’s kinda for a reason. Last thing! Let me know if you like the beginning of this, I kinda really hate it but I didn’t know what else to do
CW: Military inaccuracy, accent inaccuracy, possible lore inaccuracy, kitchen working inaccuracy, typical a/b/o sexism and classism, cursing, slightly suggestive, reader is referred to as they/them but is afab, but reader is referred to as a woman sometimes (I try my best to make it gender neutral but I’m not the brightest), everyone is kinda being unfaithful, cursing, Simon is mean ya know, slight stalking, a man being a creep, yelling/arguing, reader kinda has a panic attack, yelling
Chapter overview: Soap does some questionable things at the grocery store. Ghost and Price are grumpy
WC: 11.3k
===
Another new day in this hellhole you call a job. They have you running around like you’re the only one who knows what's going on. Sometimes you feel like you are the only one who knows what they’re doing, only to have some random person that’s never bothered to introduce themselves to you mansplain how to use a garbage can. Your boss even went as far as to make you drive an hour out of town to buy bulk ingredients, stating they needed too many things to be open. Of course you were the one they sent, instead of the person who’s literal job description is just that. And of course when you got back, it was your fault that the restaurant didn’t have enough servers. ‘Shouldn’t have taken so long’ was their excuse when you pointed out it was in fact their fault, not yours. You can wrap your brain around how people can be so ignorant and selfish. It feels like there are way more bad people in the world than there are good. It makes you wonder how much more the world could take.
By the end of the day, you’ve been cursed out by three tables, crayons thrown into your lower cut shirt by gross 11 year old boys whose moms have never taught them anything valuable a day in their life, belittled and more. You have serviced enough tables to make at least $300, but you’ve only made $150. Nobody is on your side today, the universe isn’t on your side today. But when is it ever? You’ve disappeared into the freezer to cry your eyes out too many times today to count. You know your manager will go through the cameras at the end of the day, which he does just to point things out about you, and you are going to get a call when you get home. Which you have told them repeatedly not to do, you don’t want to be bothered by work when you aren’t even there. Of course, they ignore this and constantly call and text you. One time, they threatened to fire you if you didn’t answer their calls, after one night when they couldn't find something and they deemed you the only person who knew where it was. You didn’t even know where it was.
Right now, you are putting the ticket in for your last table when a new coworker of yours comes over and leans against the beam that is near the computer. “Saw you running around like crazy today.” Is all that he says, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes scan your body up and down, finally landing on your face. His eyes had lingered at your tits for a bit longer than you’d like and you remind yourself to never wear a shirt like this to work again. His British voice echos in your head like it is empty, your brain trying to find the right words to say. What would agitate him the least. He is met with your downturned eyes as you turn your head towards him. The scent of an alpha hits you immediately and you’re left frozen for a moment. You can’t just ignore an alpha.
Your hands start to shake as you pull the customer receipt out of the printer, grabbing a checkbook from the box right next to you. You let out an awkward laugh as you nod your head, sliding the receipt into the pocket on the inside. “Yeah, Jared needed some things done ASAP and I was the only one available.” You explain, looking at the small passage between this random coworker and where you need to go. “My name is Tyler by the woy.” He says, his tone sounding rather thirsty. You aren’t stupid, you know what he wants from you and you want nothing to do with it. Especially from an alpha.
You stiffly nod and start to move towards the small gap next to him, watching as he unfolds his arms. Your heart clenches in your chest as he reaches for you and firmly grips your shoulders, it's obvious he didn’t mean to grab you so hard from the way he loosens his grip and kinda pats where he grabbed. “You can’t just walk away without telling me your name.” He points out, trying to hide his aggression under a facade of a ‘nice guy’. You can see through his fake smile, through the facade he puts on. You know his ploy all too well and you aren’t about to fall for it. Be nice to the girl, make her fall for them, then reveal what a heart crushing, soul changing piece of shit they are. Not on your watch, at least as much as you could help it.
Despite how confident you are in your own head, on the outside you look like a mess. You are hunched over with your checkbook in hand, trying hard not to look at the alpha who is way too close for comfort. “Come on, Hun. Such a pretty little omega like ye must have a beautiful name.” He presses further, ignoring the quiet whimper that manages to escape your mouth. He can feel the fear radiating off of you and it intrigues him, his pupils dilate with interest.
“Omega!” Jared shouts from his office at the very back of the kitchen, right next to the back door. He loves to slip in and out of the building without telling anybody what's going on. It doesn’t matter too much when he’s coming in without notice, all we can do is accept the rest of the shift is going to be shit and get on with our lives. But when he leaves without telling anyone that he’s leaving, it can majorly fuck the place up and it has multiple times in the past. On one occasion, he knew someone from corporate was coming in to pose as a customer, but assumed at six o’clock that he ‘wasn't going to show up’. He left and the guy he was supposed to be waiting on showed up in the last hour our dinner courses were served in. We went to go find him only to find out that he wasn’t even there anymore. Corporate was pissed and took points off of whatever tracking list they have for their franchisee owners. It doesn’t stop him from continuing to do it.
You have never felt more relieved to hear Jared’s voice in your life. Your head perks up, looking over the shoulder of your new coworker in the direction of Jared's office. You nervously glance between there and the alpha that is looking at you expectantly while stammering. “I gotta go.” Quickly squeezing between him and the wall to get to Jared, checkbooks still in hand. You can feel the kitchen workers and Tyler's eyes on you as you scurry hurriedly to the back of the restaurant. “Yes, sir! I’m coming.” You can feel the anger coming from behind you, coming from the alpha that you’ve caught the attention of unknowingly.
Jared’s office is tiny, not meant for someone to be in there for very long enough. It looks like a big closet with a desk to the right of the door, three filing cabinets completely lining the back wall. Outside of the office, if you’re standing facing the office, the door to the back of the restaurant is to the left. Jared is a very large, very intimidating alpha. He is the only one that you ever really talk to, since you have to. You kinda just switch off your brain when you are talking to him, retreating into your mind to a time when you were forced to be around them for hours on end.
“Now tell me why in the hell you are spending all this time in the kitchen fucking checking out tickets, lollygagging around while these people are waiting!?” Jared’s loud and booming voice invades your ears and makes you wince, your head immediately lowering in a sign of submission. The feeling of relief you felt only moments ago from being pulled away from Tyler was quickly sucked from your body. “What- no of course not, sir.” You stammer out. It’s like a flip gets switched when you’re in arguments, you can’t seem to formulate the correct words to help your case. It is very rare that you are able to get them to start to believe you, but you also fold when they start to interrogate you. It just makes you so nervous that you can’t think straight and your brain gets all scrambled.
“Then why have you been back here for three minutes doing one thing!? Huh!?” He screams at you as you start to take sharp intakes of air. You are trying not to burst out into tears as he stands up and steps towards the edge of his desk. You are used to crying in front of him, embarrassingly so. Everyone here tends to make jokes about it ‘behind your back’ while literally right behind your back. “It’s a privilege for you to work here.” He reminds you, stalking toward you. Your brain goes empty and all you can think about is keeping yourself safe from the angry looking alpha that is coming right towards you. “Look around!” He barks, speaking rhetorically. “There isn' a single omega tha' works for me, you are the only one. You are so easily replaceable I won' even thinky twice abou' i'.” He growls as he towers over your shaking form.
You are holding the checkbook close to your chest, the checkbook you have yet to bring to the customer, looking up at as tears start to roll down your cheeks You are terrified that he is going to lunge at you and hurt you, but you know that you’re hopefully somewhat safe since there is a camera pointing right at the doorway you’re standing in. All you can do is nod, your wide eyes staring up at Jared as he continues to belittle you. Talking about how quickly he could fire you and all the things you have already done that he almost fired you for. He doesn’t hold back on his insults either, he cuts deep and on purpose too. He never once acknowledges the fact that you did things that aren’t on your job description for free today and on most days, but you aren’t about to bring that up to an alpha that is screaming in your face.
“now qui' your fuckin’ crying and ge' back ou' there!” He shouts, pointing over your shoulder towards the dining room. “And if i ge' a single complain' tha' you are crying, you’re fired!” He shouts again as you turn and scurry away from his office. You struggle to keep your emotions in check as you wipe your face of tears and prepare yourself for the trip to your table. You speed walk to the doors of the kitchen, with your head low so the kitchen staff can’t see the tears that they know are running down your cheeks. You take a deep breath once you are there and push through the door, your face immediately brightening up.
You spend the next three hours doing the most random tasks that you could ever think of, at Jared’s request of course. He didn’t stop the hosts from sitting people in your section while you are doing these things, in fact it feels like he told them to give you more. When you look around you can see that there are empty tables in other sections for way longer than they should be open. While in your section, a table would leave and it was like the busboy was waiting for them to leave, then a host would fill the table not even a minute later. You are in a constant battle between greeting customers and giving their checks, making your brain scramble from the switching. On top of that you have the weird ass requests that Jared is assigning you one after another.
Instead of hanging out in the kitchen like you normally would have when you have some downtime, you go to your jacket and get the emergency stash of cigarettes that you save specially for days like this one. Where you can’t see an end to your suffering. You grab your lighter as well and make your way to the back door, hoping Jared isn’t in his office so that he wouldn’t see you. It’s not like he is going to stop you from going on a smoke break. You hope. Thankfully you are able to get past the office and out the backdoor without any commotion from Jared, the cold air biting at your cheeks. It is cold outside, but you don't want to bother putting on a jacket when you are only going to be out here for a few moments. Hopefully the cold air will refresh your brain and the rest of your shift won't be as miserable. Unlikely. You put the cigarette in your mouth and hold the lighter up to the stick, watching and inhaling as the paper starts to burn. You’re able to put the lighter back in your pocket and take a drag before you hear the door open and a voice speak to you.
“Pretty omega like you shouldn’t be smoking, gonna ruin your pretty body.” The creep Tyler speaks out, his breath fogging in the air. You stop yourself from scoffing and just shrug, not even bothering to look at him. Your brain is far too overworked to even pretend to like someone right now. Shock fills your body when you feel Tylers fingers grasp the cigarette and take it from between your lips. You slowly turn your head to look at him, your hand still up like you are holding the cigarette and your eyes filled with a fiery anger. Tyler doesn’t seem to notice the anger, or maybe doesn’t care, he just smirks at you. Your eyes follow the cigarette as he drops it to the ground and snuffs it with his foot. “Just lookin’ out for you, hun. I’m sure you understand, it's my place as an alpha. Just like it's your place as an omega to obey and do as you're told.” He mansplains away while you play with the lighter in your pocket, wishing you could do something to him. He continues to talk to you, but you aren’t listening. You’re looking at his face, almost through your eyelashes, with the most uninterested look on your face.
“Look, babe.” The nickname slipped off his lips like nails on a chalkboard, making you want to immediately want to sock him in the face. “I know that you are mad at me for putting out your cig, but you gotta understand-” You cut him off with a hand to the face as he tries to reach for a piece of your hair. “I completely understand, there is no reason to speak to me like I am a child. Thank you very much.” You tell him, walking in front of him to go back inside when he grabs your wrist. “I don’t think that’s any way that you should be talking to an alpha, Hun.” He says through clenched teeth, trying to keep a charming smile on his face so that you don’t see him for who he actually is. “I mean, some of these alphas will seriously reprimand you for something like tha’.” He tells you as his grip slightly loosens up when he realizes how aggressive the grab may have seemed. He has to make sure he holds up this fake personality so he can lure you in, he doesn’t know you know. You can tell that when he says ‘some alphas’ he really means himself.
You don’t know what comes through you, the way that he has treated you, the first time ever meeting this man, and he has the audacity to act this way. It has you seeing red. You rip your arm out of his grip and walk away back inside. You’d rather not have a smoke break then be around this douche. “I have a pack.” You lie over your shoulder, glaring at him as the door opens and you step inside. The anger is deep in your chest, threatening to bubble out like it is a volcano waiting to erupt. You have to take deep breaths so that you don’t flip out.
As soon as the door closes behind you, the confidence stays outside apparently, because you can feel your chest tightening. You cover your mouth with a shaky hand and hold the spot he grabbed with your other. It was the first time in a long time that an alpha put their hands on you. You felt the aggression in his grab and then the way that his fingers loosened once he realized he was going to give himself away. Your moment is cut short by a noise coming from Jared’s office and not wanting anymore trouble with any alpha’s today, you are quick to scurry to the handwashing sinks. You wash your hands and make your way to your purse so you can spray yourself with perfume. You don’t want to go back to the dining room smelling like smoke. Luckily the spot they make you put your stuff is far enough away from the kitchen that you don’t have to worry about contamination. They probably planned it that way.
You take a moment to breathe before you are forced back into the muskiness of the restaurant. Even when alpha’s wore scent blockers, there was still this mucky scent. You find it repulsive and have to hold back your gags sometimes with how bad it is. You force a fake smile on your face and exit the kitchen, walking around your large section to see if anyone needs anything, to catch up on the lost time during your smoke break.
While you’re at one of the tables, a pack omega looks at your arm and nudges her beta, whispering something into their ear while motioning to your arm. You don’t notice the way the beta’s eyes become worried upon seeing the light redness that is forming on your arm from where Tyler grabbed you. “Hey, darling.” The beta greets you, cutting you off from a conversation with their alpha. Your eyes go to the beta’s, filling with dread as someone cuts off an alpha. “You’re not being..hurt at home, right?” They ask, their fingers brushing over the newly formed patch on your arm that is obviously someone else's doing. You are a little confused why they are so concerned over such a small injury, if you can even call it that, but grateful they were looking out for people. Your eyes go back to the alpha and he’s looking at you like he is waiting for an answer as well, not even bringing up the fact that his beta just interrupted us. It only serves to confuse you more.
The alpha raises his eyebrows as if to say ‘spit it out’, but for once from an alpha, it doesn’t feel mean. The worried look he tries to bury in his eyes is obvious to you, you aren’t used to it from people like him. You stutter for a moment before you take a deep breath and sigh, trying to collect your thoughts. “I ran into one of the shelves in the kitchen and I bruise easily, is all..” You tell them nervously, not liking the feeling of all three of their eyes on you. It feels like they can see right through your lie. Your eyes cast down, but you can tell they are scanning your face to try and find any reason to not believe you. They stare at you for what felt like two minutes, it is closer to 10 seconds in reality, before the beta sucks on their teeth. “I believe them.” They tell their alpha, sitting back in their seat and taking a sip of their to-go cup you just gave them.
You feel like your face is lighter, like 10,000 pounds had been lifted from your chest as the alpha nods in agreement with his beta. “Okay, we believe you..” He says skeptically, his eyes squinting at you to try and get you to break. But you stay strong and smile warily at him, feeling uncomfortable under an alphas gaze. Your eyes widen when the alpha grunts and rubs his shin, his gaze shooting towards his omega across from him. “'eave her alone , you're scarin' the poor thin’.” Her Geordie accent slipping off her tongue like butter. You can hardly understand her, but her pack seems to have no trouble. The alpha almost pouts and huffs at her. “Just making sure they’re alright.” He grumbles, you can tell he kicks her under the table but much softer.
The beta rolls their eyes at their pack's antics and pulls their card out of their wallet, handing it to you in between two fingers. “Don’t be scared of Jessy.” The beta tells you kindly, their smile radiating as you take their card. “He’s a big teddy bear.” They continue, their eyes going to their alpha who is still ‘arguing’ with the pack omega in a hushed tone. You take that as your cue to leave and weave your way back through the crowd to the kitchen. You pray that Tyler isn’t in there, waiting for you like a creep
Once back in the kitchen, you are lucky to see that Tyler isn’t currently in there. You glance around a few times, as if trying to scope him out like he is hiding somewhere. You aren’t going to take any chances with a guy like him, he gives you the weirdest vibes on top of just being a garbage person. You don’t waste anymore time and check the table out, you feel like you’re moving faster than you ever have before when checking out a table. The idea that Tyler can come in here at any moment and try something with you again, and no one would care or stop him, is plaguing your mind. You can’t stop thinking about all the different ways that things can go wrong with a guy like him. He can end up doing horrible things to you and there is nothing you can do to stop him.
You scramble out of the kitchen as soon as you are done, booking it to the table, whose card and check you have. You have to angle your body to the side to fit through a few gaps between people, holding the checkbook close to your chest so no one can try to take it from you. Which has happened in the past, their whole meal came out of your paycheck along with the fee for having to get a new card. But luckily you get to their table without any problems. Setting the book down on the table you smile, a little warrily, at the alpha at the table. “I hope that you and the rest of your pack have a good day.” You say softly, hoping the others don’t take it as you trying to flirt with their alpha. That is the last thing you want from them.
The alpha looks at the check and then back at you with a confused look on his face, making your chest tighten for the hundredth time today. “Who gave you their card?” He asks, his face dropping into a more serious look, his voice dropping as well. You freeze, your mouth opening and closing almost like a fish as you try to fight through the fear that came along with seeing the sudden change in his demeanor. “Um, your beta did, sir..” You reply, your voice meek. You’re scared that the alpha is going to lash out in front of you, start yelling at his beta for paying for the meal without his knowledge. Jessy’s eyes shift to his beta, his eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. He just stares at him like that for a few seconds, glaring into his soul before his face lifts a little. “How many times have I told you, Malakia. I pay for everything and you guys just sit back and be pretty.” He complains, reaching over and flicking his beta on the arm. “How do you even have money in your card?” He asks, his eyes squinting in suspicion.
You take a sharp breath in and force a smile on your face as you try and calm your nerves. “Well, I hope you three have a great rest of your day.” You say, lacing your fingers together in front of you as you bid them farewell with a small nod of your head. You turn and walk briskly through the crowd, not wanting to intrude in their conversation about their finances. It was always the worst when couples or packs would talk about personal things in front of you. It happens why more than you were comfortable with. People even go as far as to talk about their sex life in front of you. Sometimes it feels like they're doing it just to make you uncomfortable.
You push through the swinging doors of the kitchen and are met by Tyler grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, darlin’” He greets you, stepping out of your way only to redirect his path to follow you. Your head lowers a little bit and you side eye him a bit, trying to put off the most uninterested vibe you can muster. You are wearing scent blockers so he can’t smell the souring of your scent, but you can feel it. Your chest always feels tighter and it feels like you are breathing smoke, thick air that makes your throat burn somehow. “It’s the end of my shift and I don’t have any more tables, I can’t stay to help you with anything if that's what you’re wondering.” You dismiss him entirely, your eyes watching in front of you now as you make your way to the lockers. “Actually, Jared wanted me to let you know that you need to stay for a double.” He says, his tone sounding overly remorseful, like he is actually mocking you. You can’t see his face, but you know that he has a dumb smirk on his face, watching as the horror dawns on your face.
Your head snaps towards him and you make eye contact before you have to look away, you ignore how you caught a glimpse of his smirk falling when you looked at him. “I already worked my double this week.” You explain to Tyler, your voice sounding a little frustrated. “I’m already working overtime, I don’t want any more hours.” You sigh out, your shoulders slouching in defeat. “Well, someone had to go home because they had a headache. We need someone to cover their spot.” He tells you, not budging on the subject. You don’t understand how someone who was so new already had so much more power and authority over you. “Who left?” You ask quickly, already knowing Jared screwed you over on purpose. You are his least paid employee, he loves sending people home and making you stay later so he doesn’t have to pay as much. “Ace.” He tells you. “It had to have been going on for an hour, he had to go home.”
You have to hold back a laugh of disbelief, nodding your head. Ace is a beta, of course he is allowed to go home like that. They would have killed you if it had been you that asked to go home because of a headache. “Whatever.” You mumble out as you turn on your heel and head to the host station to figure out what section is yours now. Tyler is left smirking at your displeasure, you can feel his eyes on you as you walk away. It is like it is burning holes in your skin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You're practically in tears by the time that you get to your car, your shoulders are raised and your head is lowered so you can warm your cheeks with your jacket and scarf. You are quick to unlock your car because you had rushed out of the building to avoid Tyler being able to follow you. He unfortunately was also working a double tonight so I couldn’t get away from him, he was basically your shadow the whole night, following you around like a lost puppy at any chance he had. Expect it wasn’t cute and he was being so passively rude the entire time. You wanted to strangle him by the end of the shift, but that would get you fired and also arrested, so you resisted. As you’re getting in your car, you hear his grating voice from across the parking lot. He is just coming out of the building and he was quick to find you. “Hey! I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye! You ran off before I could say anything!” He is shouting from across the parking lot.
You’re glad that you had hair over your ears so later you can blame you ignoring him on the fact that you had earbuds in and couldn’t hear him. You quickly get in your car and sling your bag into the passenger seat of your car before you back out of the parking spot. He’s only halfway to your car before you start driving towards the exit, you’re glad because you wouldn’t put it past him to jump in front of your car to stop you from leaving. Luckily he doesn't have the space and just stands there staring at your car as you drive away, an almost shocked look on his face. You laugh at him and turn onto the road, driving towards home.
You’re almost relaxed as you’re driving home, as relaxed as an unmated omega could be in a world where they can hardly survive. But the feeling quickly leaves when your eyes spot the sign for the grocery store that you pass everyday. You groan out and hit your back on the seat a couple times before you change lanes to get into the turning lane for the grocery store. You totally forgot that you need to buy some things and you can’t put them off any longer, so you reluctantly find a parking spot and park your car.
You’re parked next to a car that has someone in it still, so you keep your eyes down as you get out of your car and walk in front of it since it's been backed into the parking spot. You can tell that the person inside the car looks up at you and watches you pass in front of their car, but you don’t think much of it. You would have done the same thing if someone had walked in front of your car. You don’t look up from the ground until you are inside of the store, in the cart lobby. It’s still cold in here despite the hot air that you can feel blowing from the vents. You always wondered how the workers that got them from the parking lot got them into the building. With how long they make the cart trains, it seems impossible.
You don’t realize that the person in the car you just passed was actually your neighbor, and he was now following you. Soap’s eyes are on you as he gets out of his car, walking a little far behind you so that you don’t think that someones following you. He’s not following you, he’s just… making sure you’re safe, making sure that you’re taken care of. He doesn’t want anything to happen to an unattended omega, he’d do it for anyone. He wouldn’t and he knows that, but he doesn’t want to feel like a freak as he watches you set your bag in the small cart you grab and make your way inside. Soap enters the lobby not too long after you did, you’re now inside of the store, and he completely ignores the cart that he needs to grab. He’s supposed to be getting groceries for the pack for the week and he’s not doing a very good job so far at doing that.
He follows you into the produce section, which is where you enter the grocery store. He watches you as you go over to the fruit section and start looking at the veggies on the shelves. You have to stand on your toes to look at the top shelves on the produce section, as it is just out of your eye sight. He pretends to look at the lettuce on the opposite side of the small section of the produce, angling his body so that he can easily see you without looking like he is actually looking at you. He wishes that he can go up to you, take your cart and do all the shopping for you. So that you wouldn’t have to lift a finger when you are so obviously tired.
Soap’s eyes soften as he watches you bow your head and quiver as a yawn rips through you, forcing its way out of your body. He usually thinks that people are unattractive when they yawn, but you look so cute when you do it. The way that you face scrunches up and the way that you can’t stop your body from shaking because of your yawn. He has to force himself to look away before someone, or you, catches him staring so intensely. He shakes his head and walks around to the middle isles, of course picking the one that is closest to where you are standing.
Soap can’t help but feel guilty as he goes through the store, following you from a distance so that you don’t get suspicious that he is following you. He watches as your hair slides down your shoulder, your arm reaching up to grab a bell pepper on the shelves. The way that your hand wrapped around the pepper. Because you are an omega, you are smaller than him and it shocks him to see the difference. He zones out while daydreaming about laying in bed, holding you close while he compares hand sizes with you.
He quickly snaps out of it and shakes his head, a cringe creeping onto his face. He can’t remember the last time he thought about something so sappy before. He looks back at where you just were, only to be met with some random man in your place. He freaks out for a moment before he gets a grip on reality. You probably just moved onto another section while he was distracted. After a quick glance around the store that he can see, he sees you at the bakery looking at some of the breads that they had left. This grocery store isn’t the best about freshness, they are too focused on having cheap prices to worry about the freshness of their produce and baked goods. That being known, the store is never really short on bakery items because getting the processed kind is cheaper and it lasts way longer. It just makes you feel special and you get the ‘fancy’ kind sometimes.
Soap walks over to the bakery and looks at the cheese that is on a display across from where you are standing. He stands on the other side so that he can look over the top of the display to look at you, and he can pretend he is looking at the cheese pretty easily. He holds a random piece of cheese in hand so that he isn’t caught following you around the store with nothing in his hands. He doesn’t know what kind of cheese he is holding, like it matters. All that matters to him at this moment is making sure that no alpha would put their filthy hands on what he has subconsciously decided he is going to protect. He can’t help it, your scent has helped him through nights when he is being stubborn and not sleeping with the pack over something silly that is bothering him. You may not know it, but he owes you.
You pick up a loaf of bread, looking at it for a moment before grabbing a bigger loaf. His gaze hardens at the thought of you having a pack. Having someone that won’t be able to protect you as well as can. All Soap can think about is how much better he can take care of you. To him, it seems like the people who he assumes are your packmates don’t take care of you. Anytime that he sees your roommate or Jasmine, he can’t help but scowl. He despises them for what he believes they have done to you. You deserve to be treated like you’re the last omega in the world, like the ground that you walk on is sacred. He’d make you feel like you are everything. Because you are.
He follows you around to the back of the store where the seafood is, and down one of the aisles that's across from the seafood counter. There are long freezers in the middle of the main aisle at the back of the store, Soap stands at the end cap of the one across from the aisle you are on. You’re looking at the chips, looking over the brands on tortilla chips. One hand is twirling a piece of your hair between a few of your fingers, your wrist twisting as you exchange the hair between your fingers. Your lips are formed into a pout as you try to figure out which brand is the best for you to buy.
Soap is ripped from his thoughts by his phone ringing in his pocket, which he ignores. He doesn’t want to look away from you, it is like he is in a trance. You tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and slightly bend over to grab a bag of chips, putting it in the cart before moving down the aisle. You walk slowly down, your eyes scanning the shelves for anything that might catch your eye. You tend to forget things if you don’t write them down, but you can never really remember all that you need in order to write it down. Most of the time, you just end up walking through the store and hoping you get everything that you need. It almost always ends with not having half the things you went for, and having tons of things that you’ll use or eat. It is why Jasmine always does the shopping. That and she has more money than you do.
You hear a groan coming from the other end of the aisle, you turn your head and see a familiar face. Your neighbor. But this time, you don’t feel as panicked as before when you’ve noticed him from your driveway. Being this close to him, you can tell that he’s a beta, not an alpha like you had expected. It surprises you, since he is so tall and had the muscles that he did. Most beta’s are like a mid size, not as small as omegas but not as big as alphas. Your neighbor broke this standard way further than you have seen anyone do before. He is a sight to see. You can help but feel an appreciation for betas his size, you hoped he’d make a wonderful beta to a woman alpha. You always love to see it, two people who are not the norm find normalcy in each other's weirdness. That is love to you, it's what it is all about.
On the other end of the aisle, Soap pulls out his ringing phone and looks at the caller I.D. seeing the words ‘captain’ on his screen. He swipes his thumb over the green answer button, bringing the phone up to his ear. “I'm shopping, John. What's botherin ye?” He grumbles into the phone, looking at the chips in front of him before turning his attention back on you. He is annoyed that John is interrupting him when he is so engrossed in watching you. He just needs to make sure that your shopping trip isn’t ruined by anyone, he wants you to have a nice peaceful time. He wants to be there for you, because he cares. “Did you hear me, Johnny?” A gruff voice echoes from the other side of the phone, breaking him away from you once more.
All John gets back from Soap is a distracted sounding “Aye.” followed by the sound of shuffling and a muffled “Excuse me.” of Soap squeezing by an older lady on a motorized shopping cart that almost blocked his path to follow you. Luckily he quickly turned his body and made it through. He keeps his eyes on you, drilling into the back of your head as you make a right turn to go up the next aisle. “Johnny!” John barks from the other side of the phone, annoyance evident in his voice. “Wha' the hell are you doing? Are you even listening to me?” He asks, his tone accusatory towards Soap.
Soap huffs and backs off of you for a moment, remembering quickly that his mate is more important than the omega next door at this moment. He can make sure you’re safe once he is done talking to his alpha. Who is not only the reason he has a job, but is the reason he keeps it. John has single handedly saved Soaps careers more times than he can count at this point. It is honestly laughable. “I’m sorry, i'm here. Whit were ye saying?” He asks, taking a moment to look at the kitchen tools that are at the end of this aisle. He knows Gaz would appreciate new cookware, he always does “Ghos' needs you to come home soon, he doesn' seem very happy with you. Something abou' no' keeping your promises.” John explains to Soap sounding a bit frustrated with him, rightfully so. Soap lets out a long sigh and nods his head, which John obviously isn’t even able to see. “Bastard niver forgets anythin’.” He grumbles under his breath, which John heard and responded to with a low warning growl.
The last few days, John and Ghost have been way stricter than they had ever been. Soap and Gaz are hardly allowed to touch each other without their approval. It bothers the two betas because they know that it isn’t normal behavior for their alphas, but they don’t know what to do to help. They’ve tried everything they can think of at this point, they are out of ideas. Soap tried acting more submissive, but they got upset that he wasn’t acting like himself. Ghost complained that if he wanted someone submissive, he would’ve chosen someone smaller. He feels like submission did Soap's physique wrong, didn’t show off his body the way that Ghost liked, the way that Ghost knows Soap deserves to be seen. Gaz had tried sparring with them, that ended with his face smushed against the floor for an hour while the alphas had their way with him, consensually of course. They didn’t feel any better after any of these attempts, it usually only fueled them to make them more agitated than before. It makes the betas feel as though they aren’t good enough at their roles, that they aren’t worthy mates and aren’t worthy of their title of beta.
“I'm sorry, cap. I'll be home soon. The store is crowdit today.” Soap fixes his tone quickly, making a mental note that he’ll deal with those consequences when they arrive in front of him. “That’s better. Be safe.” John dismisses him, not even waiting for a response before hanging up the phone. Soap is left standing in the kitchenware and baking aisle, looking at stuff that he doesn’t even know what half is. He clears his throat to keep his emotions in check, swallowing a few times to control his tears. He doesn’t feel like he should be so emotional over something like this, he knows they’ll be okay, they always are. But they all know the risks of having a pack with more than one alpha that also doesn’t have an omega. They know that their relationship is fragile and that they have to be careful, they have been careful. Soap just needs things to be better again.
He sighs and makes his way to the opposite side of the aisle, at the back of the store. He grabs a bag of gummy bears off the shelf while he makes his way to find you. While he’s walking, he can’t help but realize how weird he is acting. He kept looking down the aisles like he is looking for someone he knows, someone who actually knows he exists. He remembers the times that you have scurried away from him, looking all scared and panicky. But his heart really clenches when he thinks about his pack. His pack is struggling and here he is getting so distracted by some random omega that he can’t even shop for his family. He groans and shoves the bag of gummy bears on the shelf before booking it out of the store. His pack needs him right now, more than you need his protection. You've done it countless times before, you can do it again.
He serves through the crowd, shoulder checking a few people on the way to the entrance of the store. He can hear the people scoffing and confronting him about running into them. He doesn’t give them the time of day as he books it through the door and towards his car. He practically tore his car out of that parking lot, he wouldn't be surprised if there are black tire marks on the asphalt where he had driven. The whole ride home, he can’t stop wondering if he is a bad mate, oogling over someone that isn’t in his pack and lying about it straight to his mates faces. Someone who he hasn’t even had a conversation with yet. He had spent well over half an hour stalking you through a grocery store under the guise that he was protecting you. While his actions were commendable, they aren’t when you don’t even know the person, especially when that person has run to hide from Soap in the past. He wasn’t painting a pretty picture for himself, but he can’t seem to bring himself to let go of you. The thought alone of leaving you to your own devices and not knowing if you are safe and cared for sent a shiver of unease down his spine, making him cringe and grumble.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your hands are numb by the time that you pull into your driveway, having to go to the grocery store by yourself and then having to drive home took a toll on you. You had almost cried on your way home but had to stop yourself so that you could actually see the road. Jasmine wasn’t able to go grocery shopping for the two of you because she was busy, and your roommate buys his own food. You usually go with Jasmine and have her to lean on, but she couldn’t so you were forced to go by yourself this time. But after a few deep breaths, you are able to calm yourself enough to get out of the car, making sure to pop the trunk before you close the door.
When you’re rounding the corner to the back of your car, you make eye contact with the man from the store, your neighbor. Since you were able to catch his scent in the store, you knew that he isn’t an alpha. And while this does lower your anxiety around him, he is still a stranger. His eyes look a little tired, glistening around the edges as his eyes scan your face. You can tell that something is bothering him, but it’s not your place and again, he's a stranger. But his tired face turns excited at the sight of your eyes meeting his, starting to make his way over to you. He walks like he doesn’t have a care in the world, like he hadn’t just been sulking before he saw you.
You return his smile with a cautious wave, holding onto your bag that is slung over your shoulder. “Hi, neighbor!” He greets you cheerfully, stepping a bit into your personal space while he juts his hand out for a handshake. You start to smell freshly cut grass and are confused, no one had cut their grass today, it had been too cold in the past few weeks to even consider it. You’re confused for a moment before you realize that it’s your neighbor. You are closer than you had been in the store and now you are able to get a good read on what he truly smells like. His scent is so comforting due to him being a beta, that your hands start to gain feeling again. You look at his hand and then back at him, like you don’t know what to do, but quickly take his hand for a handshake. “Hello.” Your voice is soft and meek, like you are too afraid to speak too loudly at him.
Soap can’t stop beaming, his smile is bright and goofy. He’s just so excited to be able to formally meet you after spending so much time daydreaming about what you’re like. And after he stalked you through the store. He wasn’t expecting you to be so shy once he’d put himself out there for you, but he finds it adorable. He finds everything about you adorable. From the way you slightly rock on your heels, to the way that your eyes shine in the sunlight when you look at him. He can’t stop staring at your face and memorizing every detail.
He gets snapped out of his thoughts by you clearing your voice, your eyes shifting to the ground as he reels back into reality. “Neit help wi thae bags?” He asks, already reaching out to grab a bag from your open trunk. You try to protest, but he’s already taking bags into his hands. “You really don’t have to do that.” You tell him, your voice coming out a little rushed as you watch the beta get all of the groceries out of your car. “Really, I can do it.” You rush out as you try and slide your smaller fingers under his fingers to grab the bags from him. He only shushes you and steps back to walk away. You quickly close your trunk and follow him with quick footsteps so you can keep up.
When your fingers touch his, he swears he feels his pupils widen. Your skin is so soft and warm against his calloused skin; your touch is so light despite the fact that you are trying to snatch your grocery bags out of his hand. He tries to compose himself as he brushes past you and towards your front door, he can feel the heat in his body threatening to raise to his skin to make him blush. You’re trailing behind him, a worried look on your face as you try and convince him that you don’t need his help. He doesn’t listen though, he ignores you as he stops in front of your door, waiting for you to open it.
You look worried as you shakily get your house keys out, sliding the key into the slot. Through your worried thoughts on how you are going to get him to not come into your home, he spoke up. “I’m no comin i, stop worryin. A can smell it on ye.” And you can feel your body relax as you open up the door. You’re usually not so quick to trust, but there is something about this beta that is different. He just feels so welcoming and warm, you can’t help but want to get to know him more. But you know that he comes from a unique pack, and you know that his alphas would not be happy if he comes home smelling like the omega next door.
Soap sets the bags just inside the door and watches as you step inside as well. He can tell that your movements are very calculated around him, like you are making room for him instead of making room for the both of you. He can tell that you are fragile, he doesn’t blame you. He can only imagine how hard it must be to live in a world that is rooted against you. You are considered the lowest of the low in society, but not in his eyes. In his eyes, you are perfect. He can tell that you aren’t comfortable in your own skin, but he thinks you were sculpted by the gods, inside and out.
You grab the door and swing it closed a bit, standing just at the opening to say goodbye to your helpful and handsome neighbor. You’d rather close the door in his face and go hide in a closet for two hours, but you have things to do and that would be rude. So you muster up the courage to actually speak to him again. “Thank you for helping me, you really didn’t have to do that.” You tell him softly, having a hard time looking at him in the eyes. You feel your eyes widen as his fingers go under your chin and tilt your head up to look at him. “Come on now, ye don’t have tae hide from me.” He reassures you as he retracts his hand, a soft and crooked smile on his face. “An it wis na problem, an omega like ye shouldn’t be doin things like thon.” He tells you, and you can tell that he doesn’t mean it in a mean way. He means it in a supportive way.
Soap glances over his shoulder and lets out a little huff, his fists clenching a bit at his sides before he looks back at you. “e let me know gin ye iver neit help. Okay, little ane?” His voice is serious, like he would be offended if you didn’t come over and get him the next time you need something. You nod and start to close the door, giving him a polite wave before slowly closing the door. Once the door was closed, you turned and pressed your back against the wood, your eyes scanning the house before you. Your roommate isn't in his normal spot anymore and you can hear Jasmine’s footsteps making her way down the stairs to help you unload the groceries.
“I heard a voice.” She states as she steps onto the hardwood with her sock covered feet, padding over to you at the door. “Sounded like a man.” She adds, wiggling her eyebrows at you. Your face immediately erupts into a blush, shaking your head dismissively as you stutter over your words. You don’t know what you can say that will be able to save you here. “It was the neighbor, he wanted to help me carry the groceries in.” You tell her, your voice shaking a bit more than you are comfortable with. You quickly bend over and gather a few bags into your hands and carry them to the kitchen, hoping that you can get away from Jasmine’s interrogation. Jasmine follows you with the rest of the bags and continues to pester you about it. You should’ve known better, she never gives up.
“Come on, you never talk to anyone and I heard you speak more than two words.” She exclaims just loud enough for you to hear, not wanting the mysterious roommate to hear your private life. You purse your lips and start to unload a bag. “We saw each other in the store, he’s a beta.” You tell her with a shrug, your voice quiet. You are caught off guard when she takes the cans you have in your hands into hers and pushes them to the side. “Spill.” She demands, her eyes squinting at you as a blush forms on your face.
“I don’t know, Jas. I felt comfortable around him..” You tell her, rocking slightly back and forth on your heels. “..I guess he’s cute, but he has a pack already.” You explain, continuing your train of thought. “He has two alphas. It would never work out anyways.” You say dismissively, shrugging her hands off of your shoulders. She has a smirk on her face, feeling victorious finally getting the information out of you. “You never know, hun. Things could turn around in the end.” She tries to perk you up, not wanting this to discourage you from going after you want. This is the first time that you’ve shown interest in someone other than people from the tv shows that you watch. She hopes that if things end up not working, that it won’t stop you from forming a bond with someone in the future. She knows how hard it can be to not get what you want so badly, and being so close to having it too.
The room is silent, other than the sound of bags rustling and things being put away, as you clear the room from the grocery bags. It doesn’t take the two of you long to unload the groceries since you didn’t get too much. Being inside of crowded stores by yourself makes it feel like your head is full of water, everything becomes overwhelming so you can’t stay long enough to get a lot. “Thank you for getting the groceries.” Jasmine says as she wraps her arms around you, squeezing tight to give you some compression. She can tell that you had a rough day, and then having to go to the store on top of that made it that much worse. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t go, work went on later than I thought it would.” She apologies, her voice muffled by your head as she presses her relaxed lips against your head.
You can feel the tension from the day start to leave your body as you are comforted by a familiar beta. You can tell that she is projecting her scent to help you calm down, her enhanced cinnamon scent almost burning your nose. While Soap helped you calm down after the store, he wasn’t able to wipe that discomfort from your body like Jasmine can. You are forever grateful for having her in your life, she has become your rock in the last years, helping you become the best version of yourself while supporting you when you mess up along the way. She is the best friend that everyone wishes they had, it felt like a miracle that your two paths crossed and intertwined. “It’s the least I could do, you are so helpful to me all the time..” You mumble as you tuck yourself against her as she holds you tight. It feels like she is squeezing all the worries out of you.
The two of you stand like that for a long while, only pulling away when a loud shout is heard through the wall. It is the booming voice of an alpha, it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up and your eyes widen. Jasmine covers your ears quickly and smiles reassuringly at you as she waits for the alpha next door to stop. Your hands go to cover her hands with yours, pressing harder on her hands to block out the sound further. It takes a few minutes, but they eventually calm down and Jasmine uncovers your ears, brushing some hair out of your face. “You’re okay.” She reassures you. “Sounds like he was upset that his beta wasn’t spending time with him.” She explains, pulling away and stretching her arms a bit.
You start to feel guilty, knowing that you had taken up some of this beta’s time, this beta that has an alpha. You look at the ground and you can tell that your scent sours again when Jasmine cups your face. “It isn’t your fault.” She tells you firmly. “He shouldn’t have helped you if he knew it would upset his alpha. That isn’t your fault.” She states, pinching your cheek to get you to perk up. You grumble at that and swat away her hand. “What have I told you about pinching my cheeks?“ You huff as you push her hands away further. Jasmine just smiles, relieved that she was able to help you calm down so easily. You cock an eyebrow at her as she just continues to smile at you, making her throw her hands up in surrender.
Jasmine feels bad that the only person that you seem to show an interest in has two alphas. She knows how hard it is for you to function when there is an alpha around, having two in the same household with you seems impossible. She’s tried her best in the past years that you two have known each other to get you to open up around alphas. But, your past with alphas is hard to forget and there seems to be nothing that Jasmine can do to make you feel better. She gave up eventually, and ended up just accepting the quirk that you have. You are able to make it through life without it being too inconvenient for you, while it is hard and sometimes frustrating when an alpha doesn’t get the hint.
You can feel your ears perk up slightly when the roommate comes out of his room and comes to sit in his normal spot. You squint your eyes and then give Jasmine the side eye as if to ask ‘what’s with him?’ She shrugs her shoulders and rolls her eyes and motions for you to come closer. You’re standing near him, and the roommate, who you still don't know the name of, has given Jasmine no reason to trust him. You are quick to listen to Jasmine, not questioning her for a second. You step towards his and grab her hand for comfort.
He’s never once tried to help in any of the house responsibilities or tried to help either of the two of you with emotional needs, which isn’t quite normal for a beta that is in such close quarters with other people. Most betas and omegas take on the responsibility to help in these kinds of situations, even if they are not in a pack together. The place that you live in will be peaceful if you take care of the things inside of it. The only exception to this unspoken rule you can think of would be if he is in a rival pack, but he lives with two random strangers and doesn’t have any marks on his neck so he’s not in a pack. Nothing about this man makes sense to you or Jasmine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Soap watches as you turn slightly and the door closes softly, he can’t help the smile that covers his face. He can tell that he makes you a little nervous, but he can’t help himself from teasing someone as cute as you are, even just a little bit. He turns on his heels and walks with a newfound energy towards their side of the conjoined building. He walks across the top of the driveway, having to squeeze his muscular body between the garage door and car that was parked there. It was probably Gaz's, the man never drove his own car, he either had the others drive him, or borrowed one of their cars for the day. It was frustrating, but the three of them can’t resist that slight pout that comes to his pretty lips when they get upset at him.
Soap reaches the door and pushes it open, smiling as he enters the house, stepping into the small entryway that has only a table and a mirror. The boys were never too keen on decorating, only doing what they needed. He closes the door behind him and he doesn’t even make it five five steps into the kitchen before he feels a hard chest against his back and an angry puffing breath against his ear. From the vanilla and mahogany scent turned moldy, Soap could tell that it is Ghost that is angrily making himself known. “Care to explain why you smell like an omega?” Ghost growls out, his hands going to grip Soaps elbows tightly. “Why..” He takes a deep breath. “It’s recen’.” He growls lowly.
Soap feels panic rising in his chest, feeling as though he’d been caught. If it were normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be so nervous that Ghost was mad. But he’s been flirting with you, trying to touch you when he shouldn’t even really be talking to you with how worked up the boys have been recently. “Um.., yeah.” Soap hesitated, his voice coming out a little squeaky at first. “She wis takin the groceries inside aw bi herself.” He explains, trying to move his arms so that he can reassure Ghost with his touch. Ghost doesn’t budge, he only lets out a warning growl to let Soap know that he is exactly where he wants him to be.
Ghost can feel his anger growing and swelling inside of his chest, he feels like he can’t control himself. He huffs and puffs for a moment, his grip tightening on Soap’s elbows. “Are you fucking kidding me, Johnny?” Ghost asks, making Soap’s heartbeat pick up. He knows that Ghost would never hurt him, but after seeing what he’s like when torturing someone for information and on top of his guilt behind the situation, Soap can’t help but get nervous around him when he’s this angry. “You barely fricking greeted me when came home from training the other day because you had to take care of price. Which is fucking peachy. Bu' then you go on a date with him so he can ‘make i' up to you’! meanwhile, i’m over here pulling my damned hair ou' because i can’' ge' a single piece of attention from either of my betas!” Ghost rants, his voice increasingly getting louder the longer he talks.
His grip on Soap’s arm is tightening with every second that passes, starting to become painful. “Ow, Simon..” Soap quietly complains, trying to softly tug his arms out of Ghost’s grip. Ghost immediately lets go and starts to pace around, his hands going to his hair. Soap turns around to face him with a worried look on his face. It isn’t normal for Ghost to act like this. “Then you go to the store to buy food from the store, your alpha even called you while you were quite! no' only did you hardly pay attention to him while he was quite talking, you came home empty handed!” He shouts, stopping to point a finger at him accusingly. “And then you come home smelling like the omega nex' door! because she needed help!” He mocks. “She has a pack literally inside her house!” Ghost reminds Soap
All soap can do is stand there with a guilty look on his face, nodding along with Ghost’s yelling. “You better hurry your sorry arse to Price's office.” Ghost growled, his voice low. “You better be thankful he’s dealing with you, i wouldn’ have gone so easy.” He tells Soap, glaring at him as he slithers around him and scurries up the stairs.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tag list: @Horny-bish @Wizzdot @the-loneyest
Please put your age in your bio if you want to be added :)
A/N: really sorry about the wait this time guys. I had this all planned out and was working on it nonstop just for my dog to stop walking. It was crazy. She’s doing a lot better now, she’s pretty wobbly on her feet but we don’t have to help her walk anymore.
#john soap mactavish#captain john price#john price#john price x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick#omega#simon ghost riley#task force 141#tf141#at sundow#John soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#captain John price x reader#John price x reader#price x reader#simon 'ghost' Riley x reader#simon Riley x reader#ghost x reader#gaz x reader#Garrick x reader#omega verse!141 x reader#alpha#beta#poly!141#poly!141 x reader
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You're Not Lazy, You're: A Daydreamer
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So, you're addicted to daydreaming, to the point where you're putting aside important real life things in favour of talking to yourself. You're sitting there, watching life pass you by, desperately trying to fill the void with people you made up in your head. Your outer life is starting to look less and less like how you thought it would be, and the worst part is, there's nothing and no one to blame.
I've been there. In fact, when I was 12, it was so bad I literally didn't care at all about my family, I had no friends, and my grades were abysmal, but I was convinced I would be fine because 'at least I have my mind'. What I didn't realise was that I had lost control of even that. Now I still daydream, but I've become much more able to cope, and I can work around it to the point it no longer affects my day-to-day life. What was maladaptive daydreaming has become immersive daydreaming. If you're in the same situation, here are a few tips to get out of that hole for good.
(Remember, this is much easier said than done, so don't feel bad if this doesn't start helping right away. Also, this is not a substitute for therapy.)
Less daydreaming
1. Eliminating the need
I'm gonna be honest, this is the hardest part. Your daydreaming came about for a reason; it's kept you alive and safe for all this time. Daydreaming is a coping mechanism. The problem comes when it becomes your only or primary coping mechanism, and your comfort zone becomes so small that you're using it all the time. Start with the negative things in your life that caused you to start daydreaming. What are they? How can they be mitigated or resolved? What are some other coping tools you can use to get through them? For me, a big part of the reason was unchangeable (untreatable illness), but some of it could have something done about it. I started medication for my mental health, switched schools, went to therapy. Am I cured? No. Did it take a long time? Yes. But was it worth it? Absolutely.
2. Attention span and comfort zone work
Now that your negative situation is ameliorated, it's time to work on getting comfortable with being uncomfortable. When you don't daydream after a certain amount of time or coming across a trigger, you start to get restless and irritable. You're, unfortunately, just going to have to sit in that emotion for a little bit. Just 5 minutes. If the trigger is media or a conversation topic, try your absolute hardest not to let your mind wander. After that 5 minutes or when the conversation is over, you can excuse yourself to go daydream. Doing this repeatedly will slowly make your brain able to go longer between daydreaming sessions, which means you can function better in your outer life.
3. Don't limit daydreaming, expand your outer life
If you're anything like me, the thought of stopping completely makes you panic. This isn't a great sign overall, but if you feel terrible whenever you don't escape, it disincentivises you from living your life. Instead, start surrounding yourself with people: spending every evening with your housemates, having an accountability partner for work, going on walks in public. The self consciousness alone is usually enough for me to not daydream, so basically I'm just giving myself less time to drift off. Bonus points if it's an activity that gets you where you want or need to go.
4. Grounding
I know, I know. It's uncomfortable when you know that's what you're doing. I personally hate the 54321 method. But you know what does work for me? This one TikTok (I can't find it) where the lady in the video tells you to look at the corner of the screen and tell what time it is, then asks questions like 'what's to the left of the screen?' and 'what are you wearing?' That snaps me right back to the present. The moment you notice yourself drifting off, look at a clock. Then look down at what you're wearing. Then take a second to describe what you're seeing to yourself and do some kind of tactile stimulation (rubbing your hands together or tapping your lap, for example).
More doing
1. Life direction audit
Your daydreams are clues to what you want out of life. Use them to guide how you want your outer life to go:
How does daydreaming make you feel? How can you emulate that without daydreaming?
Related to your daydream self's career, how does it make you feel to think of yourself getting paid to do that in your outer life? What steps can you take to get yourself there, or closer to it?
What can you do to cultivate friendships that are meaningful to you on the same level as your daydream friends? If you have outer friends, what's the most realistic scenario that would play out if you said, "I need more (support/connection/in-person time) out of this relationship"?
Are there any significant personal differences between your daydream self and your outer self? Are you a different gender, do you have a different style of dress, do you have any skills or hobbies you don't actually have? Is there anything that you would do, if only you had the [time/money/energy/certainty that this is the right thing to do/ability to get through hard things]?
Based on what you've written down, make a 10 year plan, then from that a 5 year plan, then from that a 1 year plan. Once you have your yearly plan you have options: split it up into quarters, months, weeks, or some other way. Either way, eventually you'll want to get it down to what you can do on a daily or even hourly basis to make your daydream self your reality.
2. Do it daydreaming, but do it
Now, do it. Sounds way easier than it is, but when I say do it, I mean do it any way you can. Do it upset, complaining, bored, frustrated, scared, badly, adapted to fit your abilities, in a way other people think is weird, crying the whole time, late, embarrassed, inconsistently, from your bed. Do it partway, then decide you want something else out of life. Do it when it's easy, and if you really want it, do it when it's hardest. Do something similar to it if what you want is unattainable. You can even do it with one foot in your daydream world.
As long as you're trying to do what makes you happy (and I mean the real kind of happy, not the kind that's always tinged with the grief that it's all in your head), any amount of effort you put into it is worthwhile.
3. Incentives
I was going to say to follow your plan and not your mood, but that's really hard. What you need is to find a way to make yourself follow that plan happily. For me, that's setting difficult monthly challenges for myself and getting rewards if I complete them. The challenge makes me want to do it because I want to prove my inner critic wrong. Do whatever works for you, because even if it sounds silly, it's not silly if it works.
4. Check ins
Every so often, re-evaluate where you're going. I know I just said to do it bored and frustrated, but if the whole thing is boring and frustrating and there are no upsides, don't keep at it. Check that you're actually happy with the direction your life is going.
---
And that's all I have for you. Remember, daydreaming can still be a healthy part of your life, it's the inability to stop it that's the problem. You can learn to balance it. I believe in you.
#you're not lazy#maladaptive daydreaming#actually maladaptive#maladaptive daydreamer#madd#actually madd#productivity#that girl#it girl#girlblogging#hell is a teenage girl#girl rotting#bed rotting#op
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hi, i used a translator when i wrote this text, so if there are any mistakes, please forgive me 🙏we probably have one brain for the whole fandom, because i'm also hatching an idea with an a/b/o au in my head.my main idea was similar to yours with all the pain and illness, but in addition to the main focus on the relationship between vale and marc, i also wanted to write about marc's pack.his pack, consisting of young boys with whom he trains and cares for. for example, dani holgado, is definitely an alpha. looks at marc as an example, as someone to look up to. david alonso, i don't know, most likely also an alpha (for the sake of the plot lol). fermin aldeguer could be a beta. and of course maximo quiles, marc's protégé, omega. a hot-tempered boy looking at david with loving eyes.(all the boys look at him with such tenderness) I think they fit your idea perfectly.Marc, who is not a member of any packs except for the family one and is only the unofficial head of the pack of these boys. They are like his children to him.In the 2025 season, when all his guys are either in moto2 or moto3, they need his support, help and advice (they need to be held in the evenings after falls or when they are on the verge of a rut/heat) (this is in addition to his own season) and he has no time to think about his inner omega.I think this would be so different from the relationship between Vale and his academies, where the alpha of the pack is support in the media, a firm hand on the shoulder and distraction from all problems through entertainment.And Marc is soft with everyone, a support for them (he does not run away from problems, but solves them). the boys always know that they can come to him: he can listen to them or understand without words, teach them to stand up for themselves, give advice on how to take a certain turn on the track or what to choose as the first gift for courtship (or from what angle to look at the alpha))well, here is the true omega of the pack.another scene before his eyes - the day before the public loss of consciousness. maybe this is maximo, before the third race on the calendar on saturday - his first moto3 race because he just turned 17 the other day. he lies close to marc in his camper, burying his face close to the neck of the older omega. in his arms he feels like he is on the clouds, sometimes he does not finish some sentences, but marc understands everything and answers him with a laugh. perhaps before this grand prix, the boys gathered in their little pack and, he does not know for how many times, discussed that marc does not smell of anything. nothing at all. they asked alex a long time ago, but he never answered them.and max awkwardly asks about it, when before that he had been mumbling about David and his unique overtakes in his first year in moto2 for about 7 minutes non-stop, feeling how Marc relaxed. and literally three seconds later he regrets it, when Marc's breathing rhythm gets out of whack and how his shoulders tense under his grip. but the man only grabs the kid tighter and tells in general terms what happened between him and Vale, choosing only soft expressions, without hatred, sadness or pity.and the next day after the victory he faints. imagine Maximo's face lolin any case, thank you for your creativity and for your brain. not only is every word of yours read in one breath, you are also a very nice person. thank you ❤️
Hi, firstly, I'm so in awe of everyone on this app when English isn't their first language. You all make me feel so stupid 😂😂 so never apologise for that.
Secondly, what a lovely message!!!
Omg!!! Im so excited?? We all have a million a/b/o ideas and it's fantastic!!! I love that for us!
Wow! I never even considered that, it's so good??? The idea of Marc having this little gaggle of boys (borderline men) following him around like ducklings because he's like the main/pack omega (and he should be for the whole paddock) - i love it. I think there's so much room to work with in that dynamic. Like you said, the way the boys look up to him, how they need to be looked after when they've fallen or when they're about to enter heat/rut cycles. And marc is 100% being a mother hen. He doesn't even realise that he's doing it half the time? Like sitting with all the boys over lunch, giving advice, talking to them after a bad race, squished onto the motorhone sofas.
In one way, it's healing for his omega. But another is ruining him. Because it's suppressing so much that he isn't actually bonded to these kids, not on a biological level. He doesn't scent with them, etc, because he doesn't do it with ANYONE. (Post reconcilliation, he does. And they become his pups basically). These kids are clinging onto him and it hurts so bad because he doesn't actually have that connection with them 💔💔
Omg, and yes, the idea of Marc, an omega, by definition, being head of a pack. He is the one they always come to for advice, direction, and love. I especially love the comparisons to the VR46 pack. I think it would be really different. I think a. It is not a true 'pack' because of Marc's issues (although they act like one, and the boys desperately want it to be one, but don't want to push marc, just sometimes pile into his motorhome and lie on Marc's bed, confused about why there's no nest; leaving their clothes in Marc's space, he secretly hoards them for comfort).
The boys asking marc what happened omg 💔😭 marc telling them, but only the bare bones as he knows they look up to Vale and he doesn't want to ruin that, also he doesn't want to hurt/scare them because he's FINE, damn it. And then how they react when marc gets sick, can you imagine the fear? The anger they have at Valentino, but they feel so powerless because they're young and in lower leagues and UGH. God I love this idea so much. Love the dynamic, its very cute.
Thank you so much for the ask and for the kind words!!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
#motogp#marc marquez#rosquez#motogp rpf#my fics#valentino rossi#marcs little gang of pups#abo sick fic
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I hear the cries of fun headcanons and am here with whatever my brain has!
1. One day I will play with Shadow and Warriors talking battle strategies and getting on each other's last nerve by being the only person who will call each out on their terrible plays.
Wars: They're gonna flank you from the left.
Shadow: No, they'r- Fuck they are!
Wars: You could bring your troops around here and still have strength on *insert actual battle strategies here*
2. Warriors is the most well known Link only due to so many characters from other parts of the timeline knowing him. (Flora despises this. She wants to know how this one Hero has been mentioned like five different times across all of history.)
3. Warriors trusts his Impa so much (and they have such a close bond) that he'll believe anything an Impa says over their Link. This has gotten him in trouble.
4. Autistic Legend with Warriors as his "you take no energy to interact with" person
Addendum: Autistic Warriors that knows social cues and psychology because they're a special interest. He is the go to for "What do they mean questions?"
5. Aryll keeps pictures of all of her new brothers but her favorite is one of her, Link, and Warriors together.
Addendum: He's the favorite because he's tall(/bird-watching height) and takes what she's saying seriously.
6.Time feels safe being the leader because he knows he has Wars there with him.
This was fun. I hope you feel better and things get better for you! -A Random Tree
i LOVE autistic Warriors having a hyperfixation on people and then figuring out social interactions that way 😭 my hc for him is that his special interest is history and he loses his MIND exploring the eras because the history books were WRONG and he gets to take notes and CORRECT them and its so so so much fun for him. To me he’s the one who’s figured out the most about the timeline shenanigans because he NEEDS to learn about it and he will start questioning the others for more info and then he writes it down because his brain is a mess and his journals are both every thought he’s ever had and a very accurate detailed account of history previously unknown to his era (he’s crazy and i love him)
ALSO HIM BEING BIRD WATCHING HEIGHT IS SO CUTE
i love these so much thanks for sharing them anon :) your brain is huge 💙
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freaks, together. - m. murdock
hi guys i am not dead ! here's a matthew fic about a reader who is not normal about food and probably has something going on but oh well. i am not exaggerating that almost everything about this reader is based on my experiences so. do with that what you will! word count of about 1.7k! warning: contains a lot of talk of food and the reader has a not normal relationship with food!! nothing graphic, but please read with caution!!
To be fair, it’s not like your relationship with food has ever been normal.
You remember going through all grade levels unable to eat things like bread with seeds in it, eggs were never on your plate at breakfast and tomato sauce—Oh, tomato sauce was a nightmare!
You always, and to this day, loved eating your mother’s spaghetti and meatballs—As long as the spaghetti was on one half of the plate with nothing but butter and maybe parmesan cheese, and your meatballs were on the other side—If your spaghetti touched the sauce from the meatballs, which you liked with sauce, you’d consider the meal ruined.
You recall that in high school, you made yourself a caesar salad every day for lunch—only creamy caesar, with six chicken nuggets cooked in the oven for six minutes, then you’d cut each chicken nugget into three smaller pieces, and you’d pair your salad with ice water, an orange with no seeds, and four chips ahoy cookies. When you’d get home, you’d wash your salad container to use it for the next day.
But, if someone asked you, you’d probably say you’re normal about food. Totally.
And as someone equally ‘normal’ about food, in a different way, Matt Murdock makes the perfect boyfriend.
Matt noticed it on your first date—he notices everything about you—how you took your time perusing the menu, as if you were scared that the date might be ruined if you chose the wrong thing.
He notices that you never make tomato-based dishes, and he notices that for breakfast every morning you get the same breakfast sandwich from the deli around the corner from the firm. He notices that it sits on your desk most of the day if he smells it a bit burnt.
And of course, he notices when you don’t eat. He can’t help it, his ears just pick up on things—
Even now, he hears you across the office, stomach growling.
He checks his watch, noticing it’s half past five anyways. He begins to pack up his things for the night and wonders to himself about what you’d like to do for dinner. Thai, maybe?
He slings his bag over his shoulder after pulling on his jacket and makes his way over to your office, knocking gently.
“Come in,” You call, and Matt opens the door, noticing other signs of your hunger—The way you clench your jaw, the way you grip your pencil intensely, and your rapid heartbeat.
“Hey,” he says, guessing you worked through lunch. “Almost ready to head out?” He wants to say that it’s time to go, that as your ‘senior partner’ (technically, but not really), he is your boss and he demands that you stop working. He wants to say that as your boyfriend, he wants you to take care of yourself before you burn out. But instead, his words give you an opportunity to stop without being pushed.
“Almost,” You respond, not even looking up from your work. Your mind is racing, you’re thinking about the work you’ve done today, the fact that you just want to finish this up before you leave, but your brain begins to warp things as your hunger takes over—
Matt’s probably going to break up with you if you don’t stop working but you need to get this done—He probably finds you annoying with all your weird habits, and so do Karen and Foggy—Karen’s probably mad at you for—
“When was the last time you ate?” Matt asks, and you still don’t look up.
“Had a meeting during lunch, and my breakfast this morning was burnt—” You start to explain, and then you think of something to say that might be good, “But I’ve been drinking water all day and my coffee this morning was very good.”
Matt’s noticed that too—That you’re always trying to counter shitty things about your day, your life, the people in it, with things that make those shitty things tolerable.
“So, you had two, maybe three bites of your breakfast? And that’s it?” He deducts, and you, taken over by something awful because of your hunger, bite back a comment telling him to fuck off and that you know what you’re doing.
Matt waits.
“..Yeah, I guess so.” And your response comes out so deflated that it breaks his heart.
“Okay, then, let’s go get something to eat.” He says, and you shake your head.
“Nuh-uh, Devil man, I can’t eat before I finish this assignment.” In your brain it’s less like you’re withholding food from yourself and more like you should get your work done before you take a break, but as soon as the words leave your lips you know you’ve given Mr. ‘I’m a really good lawyer’ the upper hand.
“Can’t or won’t?” He wonders, and he wanders over to the other side of your desk and crouches next to your chair. “C’mon, baby,” he reaches up to find your hand, taking it and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “We can get anything you want.”
You exhale, your shoulders dropping a bit as you concede. You turn your chair so you’re facing your devil in shining armor, ready to be whisked away from here.
“Anything?” You ask. He nods.
“Anything. Burritos, pizza, curry?” he offers. Your face twists as you try to decide—None of this food sounds good to you.
“Okay, I have a request, but you can’t laugh at me.” You start, and he smiles.
“Cross my heart,” and he crosses an ex over his chest. Your own heart melts a bit. “What is it?”
“You need to choose.” And immediately you see his confused look, and you go to explain, “I’m so hungry nothing sounds good right now, can you just pick something so we can go?” His features soften when you give this explanation, and a smile pulls at his lips.
“How does thai food sound?” And your stomach rumbles at the thought of those warm, rich noodles that’ll come in your pad thai.
“Sounds amazing.” You grin. He stands, still holding your hand.
“Alright, let’s go, then.” He smiles. He pulls out his phone to place your order while you pack your things, quietly promising yourself that just because you haven’t finished your work doesn’t mean you can’t eat.
After twenty or so minutes, you finally make it home and sit at the table with Matt to eat your dinner. You’re starving and your food smells so good—Matt introduced you to this Thai place when you first went out, and it’s quickly become one of your favorite spots—Matt loves it because they use all natural ingredients and everything’s so clean that he’s not tasting other people’s meals. And you love it because it’s never too loud, it’s always softly lit, and your meal of choice tastes the same each time you get it.
Yeah, you and your boyfriend have extremely normal relationships with food.
Matt dives into his dinner, and so do you—Those first few bites are glorious! They’re delicious, and just as you had been dreaming about for the past twenty minutes.
Everything is perfect.
Your beloved boyfriend, your darling pad thai, and a long night of cuddling the devil of Hell’s Kitchen. There’s nothing to add, really. Everything is just..
Perfect.
..
….
……
Until you take your sixth or seventh bite and almost throw up.
You were talking to Matt about this time in ninth grade, when you hung out with your best friend for the first time out of school, and how it was Halloween, and—And really, it’s your own fault for letting yourself go for a few minutes without eating..
You take that seventh bite and chew for just a moment too long, because when you swallow, you realize that this food is no longer appetizing, and you’re done with dinner for now. Matt, with his incredible senses and his inability to ignore anything you do, notices the shift in your behavior.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, and you hesitate—God, do you hesitate, because your handsome, lovely boyfriend has done everything right. He’s made sure you stopped working at a decent time, he’s gotten you dinner, he even obliged your quirky request to choose where you go to dinner.
“I..” You sigh. “I think if I take another bite I’ll be sick.” You say honestly. Matt looks confused.
“What? You just said you liked it—” And he knows you’re not lying! He would’ve been able to tell!
“I did,” You promise, “It’s delicious, but now it’s been a few minutes since I had a bite, and it tastes different now, and I suddenly feel full.” You slouch in your chair, pushing your food a bit to the center of the table. “I’m sorry..”
Matt hears the defeat in your voice. He knows you’re not just being difficult, you’re genuinely upset about this— He could tell that without his super senses to help him out. His brain begins to work, and he decides on a course of action.
First, He takes another bite of his dinner, as if to show you you’re not ruining his meal.
“That’s okay,” He reassures, “Do you want to just pack it up and have it later if you do get hungry?” He wonders.
“Yes please,” You answer, leaning forward to grab the lid and stick it back onto the container. You really do feel bad. Matt has done everything in his power to get you to enjoy your dinner and you can’t help but sit there, feeling like you have condemned him to a lifetime of dealing with your very normal relationship with food and—
“I’m gonna finish my meal,” He starts, “And then we can go lay on the couch before I have to go out?” He offers.
And this is peculiar. For some reason, you expected him to make a much bigger deal over this than he is-- But you suppose he’s full of surprises.
“Okay,” You say, reaching forward to take a sip of your water.
The two of you continue to talk and yap about anything that comes to mind, just as you do every day. When Matt’s done with his food, you store your leftovers away and find Matt lounging across the couch.
While you were putting your food away, Matt must’ve put his CD player on, playing an album the two of you enjoyed. You can’t help but wander over to him and climb on top of him, resting your head on his chest.
His hand finds the hem of your shirt and dips beneath it, beginning to rub your lower back. You melt into him like ice cream, as if it’s the easiest thing for you in the world to do. And after a couple of peaceful moments, listening to your music, you finally say it.
“I wish I was normal about food.”
Matt’s hand doesn’t stop gently caressing your skin.
“Yeah, I know.” He says softly. “But you aren’t. It’s the way you are. You can do your best to work on it, if you want.”
“Do you ever wish you.. didn’t have your—”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Just once I’d like to ride the subway without smelling everything.” He answers honestly. “But I am who I am. Sure, it’s frustrating, but.. being a freak means I get to hear your heartbeat, and it means I get to protect the people I care about most.”
“Like me?”
He presses his lips to the top of your head.
“Exactly like you.”
“I guess we can be freaks together, huh?”
“For as long as you’d like.”
“Does forever work for you or are you busy?”
“I can make forever work.”
#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock#matt murdock x you#daredevil fic#matt murdock fic#daredevil#daredevil fanfiction#danny speaks to the void#matt murdock x y/n#tw food#tw unhealthy eating habits
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feeling ###nosy if you feel like telling what are your current works in progress 👀
i'll give you a few sneak peeks below of some current wips! hoping to get these out as soon as possible; some are just taking a bit longer than others to work through. <33
as well as getting locked in posted, i've got another lengthy arthurtv fic started off, in the early stages (and i've left a sneaky peek down below here) where the reader is george's best friend and falls in love with arthur so i'm excited for that one to take off!
a lot has been started so hopefully they'll be with you soon but enjoy these sneak peeks! the prompts are in bold and italics! x
George was having a terrible day (for any reason) and he’s down and gloomy about it, but the reader (a friend of his) takes care of him and makes sure he’s okay and long story short they fall in love and end up doing it on his couch while Arthur and Chris are away.
"don't be mad at me."
silence.
"yn, please."
he caught the lingering side-eye that she gave him and a smirk toyed at his lips.
"i'll get on my knees and beg if i have to," he states and the hollow of her cheek became a dimple as she chewed on the flesh inside her mouth, "oh, i see how it is. you want me to beg, don't you?"
the cushions move beside her and she's jostled around as he stands himself up from the sofa and, suddenly, a wave of cool air replaces the heat from his body that he emitted. the television being hidden behind his body and he adjusted the t-shirt that had ridden up his body and had become untucked from his jeans. and she really can't look away from him when he's kneeling before her.
she tries to keep the annoyed look on her face... except... it was hard when he knelt down in front of her, hands flat on her thighs, with a look in his eyes that held a lot more than apologies.
"please, stop ignoring me. i can't deal with it," he whispers, his eyes are level with hers and his orbs are a darker shade than normal, and she can sense her own mirroring his demeanour, "i need you to look at me, i need you to talk to me, i need you to stop being so annoyed with me because i'm an idiot."
his fingers were dangerously close to a zone that would have her like putty in his hands, melting into the cushions around her, completely at his disposal.
"jesus christ," he grumbles lowly, like he needed a pep-talk with his mind to confess what he needed to say, "i need you, yn."
please can you write something with arthurTV and reader going through a dry spell and putting an end to it !!
placing a hand on her back, he retracts it quick once he realised she didn't hear him enter the room, her whole body jumping at the sudden appearance of his touch.
"jesus, arthur."
"i'm so sorry," he laughs softly, setting her mug of tea down in an empty space on her desk and making sure it was away from any piece of paper that seemed important, "i thought you heard me come in."
"i had my music on," she says and slips her headphones down from her ears, letting them hang around her neck and she leant over to pause the song she was listening to, "honestly, i thought you'd have gone home."
"why?"
he moves to stand behind her so he could take in her desk; paper all over the place, scribbles and spider-maps on all of her ideas, chewed pen lids and ripped up post-it notes that weren't that important to her thought pattern.
"because i've been stuck in here all night with work on the brain," she frowns and he shakes his head, "you can go home, if you wanted. i'm not much fun right now and i wouldn't blame you."
"it's okay. i actually like being at your place as opposed to mine," he shrugs with a smile and presses a kiss to the top of her head, burying his nose into her hair as he laid both his hands on her shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze, "but you should take a break, lovie."
"i can't."
"of course you can," he says softly, digging his thumbs into the nape of her neck and giving her shoulders a soft massage, feeling how the tension building up in her muscles disappeared at his touch, "come on, at least come and have a little nap if you're planning on pulling an all-nighter."
"arthur-"
"or, at least let me help you relax," he drops his head and he whispers the words softly into her ear and she can't help but let her head drop back into a position that collided softly with the back of her chair, "i miss you."
"i can't," she grumbles softly and looks at the way his face twists up in a quick look of frustration that was soon masked with a look of upset, "i want to, i'd love to, but i need to get all this done by tomorrow and i'm so close to being finished."
his lips press against her forehead and she closes her eyes at the soft touch grazing her skin, hands coming up the rest upon his hands that were still resting upon her shoulders.
for the last few weeks, she had been busy with meeting after meeting with brand-deal after brand-deal, talking with companies who were interested in her being the face of their products. spain, france and amsterdam had been places she'd spent three or four nights in, as part of a gifted trip she'd been invited on, and london had definitely been somewhere she had been excited to get away from.
she felt guilty.
she had been to all these amazing places for such amazing deals and opportunities, with new friends she'd met on the way, but she hadn't spent time with arthur. she hadn't been with arthur. and it killed her not to celebrate her achievements with him in a way they normally would.
"i've been really horrid, haven't i?"
i'm currently working on a best friend george x boyfriend arthur fic, too so here's a little something from that one!
“Do you ever wonder what life would be like if we never met? If I never came out that day?” George wonders, “I think my life would be quite boring.”
“I think my life would be even more boring,” YN laughs softly, “you’d still have all of this. You’d still have the podcast, the Tiktok, the Youtube channel, because the charisma that you have would have brought you this kind of life, anyway. The only exciting thing about my life is the fact that you’re my best friend.”
“That’s rubbish,” he shakes his head and sets his mug down on the table, “I think, one way or another, we’d have still ended up in each other’s lives. Just, not as soon as it happened. We were bound to have met eventually, whether it was that day or not.”
The office door opening brings YN’s attention away from George and to the brunette standing in the doorway, wearing a shirt that was almost identical to her own, a nervous look on his face once he realised he’d interrupted something. George’s head turned to follow where her eyes were looking, hand coming up top to wave the other guy in, allowing him to come and join them.
“Arthur, this is YN.”
“Hi,” Arthur smiles sweetly, extending his arm and his hand in an opportunity to shake her hand. To which she gladly mirrored, extending her own arm towards him and wiggling her fingers, their palms connecting in a soft yet hearty shake, “George has told us all so much about you, already. It’s nice to put a face to the name.”
YN couldn’t lie… Arthur was cute.
The handsome-kind of cute with the chiselled jawline hidden beneath the faintest amount of facial hair, shaggy brown hair with a fringe that covered his forehead, lips so pink and soft with brown eyes that held a lot of depth and emotion and she found it hard to look him in the eyes as she said her hello’s yet she found it difficult to look away from him when she finally gained the courage to make eye contact.
“I mean, you’re all over George’s Instagram so it’s nice to finally meet the guy who he seems to enjoy the company of. I’m not sure whether I should be jealous or not,” YN teases him softly and Arthur lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head and looking to his feet, “I love your t-shirt, by the way. Considering we don’t know each other, we’re matching today.”
It took Arthur by surprise when she stood up and he saw, in full, the same Natural History Museum logo printed across her chest which matched the same one printed on his own chest, just on different coloured cotton.
“I seem to attract nerds, don’t I?”
and i also have a prequel started for this fic here!
“Meet me in the bathroom.”
YN felt his warm breath wash over the skin of her neck, the smell of orange juice hanging in the air from the Sex On The Beach he had clasped in his hand with a soaked straw that had been chewed upon with each sip he sucked up, a shiver running down her spine as butterflies bounced around the inside of her stomach. His arm snaking around her waist to pull her closer so he didn’t have to shout or speak loudly over the music bumping in the air, her black flush to his front, her body tensing underneath his touch.
All night, the two of them couldn’t stay away from each other.
From the moment she had walked through the door to Simon Minter’s birthday party, later than the time she told them she would be there, he was attached to her side. The first one to say hello to her, the first one to greet her with a kiss on the cheek, the first one to offer her a seat in the booth and the first one to take her jacket and place it with his so it wouldn’t get lost. He sat beside her in the booth that himself, George, Chris and Arthur Hill had taken their place in for the night and he brought her her drinks throughout the evening, refusing to take one off of her when she offered to buy a round. He kept a close eye on her everytime she got up to dance with Talia or Faith, watching every movement she made when a song they loved came on because he didn’t want anything to happen to her, always weary of where she disappeared off to when he took his eyes off of her for a brief second… only to let out a sigh of relief when he saw her standing at the bar as she topped up her drink.
No one else existed in his world when she arrived. His conversation with George dwindled out when he watched her walk over to them, his attention moved from making Chris the butt of his jokes when she joined in the conversations, and his behaviour changed now that she was amongst the four of them.
The sexual tension between the two of them almost suffocating.
“Now?”
He nods and drops his hand from where he had placed it upon her hip, slowly dragging it down her body and letting his fingers trail slowly down her thigh and just beneath the hem of her dress, and she felt her knees wanting to buckle under his soft touch.
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