#you just know they'd get into the best conversations

[doctorho]

thinking about viktor with a chronically ill reader. you know? we see the vision, right?

it just works.

the thing with chronic pain, illnesses, disabilities, all of that - is that you can't always see them. sometimes you can, sure, you can see the mobility aids and the not-standing-up-for-too-long and the bruising from blood draws and sometimes you can see the compression garments, the pills and inhalers and the i'm fine, i just need a moment-

but most people just don't pay attention to that. or if they do, they don't put the pieces together fast enough to figure out what's really going on under the surface. viktor does, though; he's been there, and most of the time he's way beyond hiding it. or, well, he's way beyond hiding some of it.

walking with a cane was like carrying a neon sign that said yes there is something different here. yes i can't walk the way you can. no it's not going to get better. that last part wasn't directly evident just from him using a cane, sure, but with the way his cane looked, it should've been pretty clear. He had used one practically forever and it had evolved with him, he'd made it as comfortable to use as it could be, had even made it match his uniform.

so yeah. viktor knew what it was like. he'd been the disabled kid forever, even if some of the others were never going to say it out loud. that was just a thing about him, and he knew how hard it could be to navigate something like that in an academic environment. it was hard to admit you couldn't do something, that you had to sit down, that you needed a moment. that sometimes your body was just falling apart for no particular reason and it was just another tuesday.

sometimes it was easier to sit with the pain than take medication in the middle of a meeting, knowing that someone would make a bigger deal out of it than it had to be, even if it was just raising their eyebrows meaningfully. they'd think about you differently afterwards.

he could see you push through it, and he didn't blame you, really, he did that himself, too, but - he didn't want you to hurt yourself. you hadn't been in the lab as long as he had, so he could understand you being a little cautious with how you acted and what you told people, but he didn't want you to feel like you had to put on a show for him. he was, after all, walking around with the equivalent of a light-up sign of i'm disabled, too, and he liked to think of himself as someone who wouldn't come off as judgemental about stuff like that. other stuff, sure, stupid stuff, but not that.

so when he sees you dealing with the telltale signs of being in pain, he conveniently sends jayce and the others to pick up some parts that would take a while to collect and that they wouldn't actually need until the next day. but better prepared, right? what's the harm.

and then he comes to sit next to you and sighs deeply. leans back. relaxes to the best of his abilities. asks if you're alright, and sounds like he already knows the answer.

you sigh too, shift your position, and answer with it's fine. and viktor recognizes the strain in your voice, in your posture, and he knows there's a key difference between this and i'm fine, but he'll take it. it's not what he'd like, but he'll take it.

he leans over to dig around his belongings, and then offers you a bag of candied almonds.

"if you're going to take pain killers, it's better if you eat something first," he says, and you just stare at him. "i assume you haven't taken anything yet. nothing strong enough, at least," he continues, casually, and you take a deep breath and accept the almonds.

he smiles. continues like this is totally normal. "jayce made me start carrying around some food so i could do that. for myself, i mean. but it doesn't hurt to have some snacks around either way, i suppose."

he knows he's skirting around the real topic of the conversation, but he also knows that sometimes people get uncomfortable around his bluntness, and you hadn't exactly told him you were in pain, so he'd understand it if you were a little weirded out. after all, most people didn't notice this stuff. but you haven't run away from him, and you're eating, and then you're digging around your own bag to take your medication, so he'll count this as a win.

thanks, you exhale, handing back the almonds, and he takes a handful of them himself.

"i'm fine, really," you continue, not really looking at him, "it's just hard sometimes."

he nods. it was - even if he didn't know the specifics, he knew that it was true. especially since you had been hiding it from the others. and with something like that, something the others couldn't see, the invisible step to let them see it would grow bigger and bigger with time, when they expected you to be able to do everything they did without a second thought.

he also knows you didn't mean fine in the dictionary definition sense of the word, but more in the this is normal and you don't need to worry -sense. and that's fine. he was used to functioning on different parameters than most people, so this version of fine was good enough.

my body just isn't always very reliable, you explain with a sigh, and that he knows better than well.

he hmms in answer and nods. he knows.

you exhale a small laugh at that.

and he's glad you're relaxing, wants you to be as comfortable here as possible.

"these people are alright," he says casually, "as far as healthy people go."

viktor smiles a little.

another win for him.

and then he sits with you, talking and not talking and enjoying the quiet comfort if it all. and then he makes up some excuse so you don't have to keep working yet. he was well aware what it was like trying to work through the pain, waiting for the medication to kick in, and he wouldn't exactly recommend it. besides, as a rule, you were more likely to make mistakes if you were thinking through a layer of pain, and that was just plain bad planning. it made much more sense to just take a break and continue when you felt better. in fact, he was in dire need of a caramel latte and a pastry right now, do you want anything?

and after that it just... sort of falls into place. you're more relaxed around him. and the others, too, but he's the only one that really gets it. doesn’t make a whole thing out of it when you need to sit down for a moment or take a break while your pain killers kick in. he's just there.

he knows what it's like, and that feels like an invisble curtain lifted from between you and him, and it's just easy. you don't have to pretend you're doing better than you actually are and he doesn’t hide it when he's in pain, either.

most people don't see it, but there's a mutual understanding there; yeah, sometimes life sucks and sometimes you're in pain and no it's not fair that sometimes your body is falling apart and life just keeps going. you can't do all the things you want to do but you still have to show up for the other life-stuff and if you took a day off every time you felt bad you would never get anything done and it just never stops.

but sometimes there's someone who'll sit through it with you without judgement. offer a warm drink and a snack and some understanding.

[more-than-a-princess]

She'd had, she remembered as she dressed, given him a run for his money. It wasn't as if she'd even grown up at arcades, but having a best friend who was a professional gamer did help at times. Even more so that she was patient, eager to instruct, and mostly just wanted to have a friend to play games with whether it brought her any amount of competition or not. Sonia smiled at the thought: she'd have to tell Chiaki about this soon.

Though perhaps, in an effort not to worry her, she'd leave the part about how Wylan had brought several firearms illegally (she guessed) into France as some sort of backup measure.

"How did you plan to use them, if so? On me?" She asked, perhaps in a tone far too light for the question. If just for the fact she didn't think he would, but he'd brought them for a reason. A roundabout question to get to the real one: What are you afraid of?

Another question for another day, particularly after the previous night had been so exhausting in a multitude of ways. Besides, he'd steered the conversation into something else meaningful: the denial they shared about their feelings for one another. Nevertheless, it still didn't stop her pausing as she applied her lipstick: he too had loved her, enjoyed her company, when she'd been either too oblivious or too wrapped up in her own self-sabotage to tell him as such.

"Did you, now," She spoke after her hands had moved again and finished applying the deep rose shade to her lips. Finishing, she placed the cap on the tube and the tube in her purse before standing up to face him. "I thought I was the only one. If I'd said something, I figured you would've pushed me away. I suppose spontaneously kissing you to distract another European aristocrat from recognizing me was a feeble attempt at a diversion and to express myself: how much I enjoyed being around you, seeing all the sights Las Vegas had to offer." Restaurants filled with junk food, fake castles that housed casinos, frozen alcoholic drinks in sizes Sonia hadn't known drinks to be served in. So much of it was a blur for so long but with him there, now, she was recalling the highlights of their adventure away from their lives, or at least her security.

Paris, however, didn't quite offer the same level of frivolity and tackiness, unless one knew where to go. Maybe she'd lead him to something equivalent later but first, clothes. "Oh, I would say this is our first date, yes," She replied, grinning as she let him pull her close. Sonia had guessed that, in their absence, the rest of the party would scatter. Her security, to prepare to discreetly tail them the entire day (though knowing Wylan, she felt certain he'd know their presence and approximate distance everywhere they went). Her family, because they didn't want to risk hearing anything they really didn't wish to. "If we are going on an outing where we are honest with one another about what we are feeling. Though I suppose with that logic, last night counts? Or does a date count if we went out with feelings for one another that went unshared?" She thought briefly of the various instances where he'd be telling jokes and attempting to get under her skin and she highly considered responding in kind with kissing him and seeing what happened.

Actually, that wasn't the worst idea to try now. But maybe not on the streets of Paris, after taking the elevator to the lobby and quickly crossing through it, head down and pressed into Wylan's side. She would do her best not to be recognized, though it was far easier at night than it was late morning.

"What would you consider our first date, then?" She inquired as she led the way north, away from the Tuileries and towards the famed opera house, near to where the department store was located. She hadn't really thought about it until then, but Sonia was reluctant to call the previous evening their first date: they'd both been hungry, for food and other things and were so emotionally wrung out that it simply felt like relief when they'd both been fed. But today...today was different. Today felt lighter, warmer, even if it was simply being held against him as they walked through the busy streets, avoiding various tourists, shoppers, and locals simply wanting to get from point A to point B.

It wasn't a long walk, the most difficult part of it all passing every cafe beginning to ready its outdoor seating for the early lunch crowd. Food and clothes could both be taken care of at the department store and rather well, in fact: she wondered if he'd have any interest in the food halls that spanned the Galeries Lafayette's third building. "Here we are," She announced once they'd arrived: less busy than the main store across the street, she'd taken him to the smaller department store of the three: four floors devoted entirely to men's fashion, accessories, and skincare. She'd grabbed the door first, mostly out of habit: without security detail, she relished in getting her own doors, her own shopping trolleys, her own bills. "Admittedly I haven't shopped for clothes with someone in awhile. What sort of style would you like to get?"

"I dunno, you gave me a run for my money at the arcade back when, didn't you?" A brow lifted at her words as the princess comments on her future spouse's ... accessories. Yes, she may have jewelry but Wylan gained confidence through. Other things. "Calling a 1911 a piece of artillery is being a little dramatic, I think. But having guns at all- yeah, I'm not going to deny maybe it was a bit much. The nine millimeter here was just a uh. Backup. In case something else..."

The more he thinks of trying to explain himself, the more Wylan realizes this is rather silly. Not so much bringing the weapons (you're good there champ) but convincing Sonia of the what's or why's of it. Or maybe he was excessive? Was he thinking excessively?

"I'm happy. Happier than I am disappointed that I didn't need to use them. Either way." All roads lead to that fact. A good way to cap of the idea before he starts getting defensive or something of that sort. Sonia was only teasing after all, flirting with various boundaries now that she had the open field to do so. Wylan smiles, realizing the same could be applying to him right now were it not an existential brew of crisis and realization.

Stewing in that happiness is a decent way to... waste time, he realizes. Basking in the afterglow not of sex (for once), but the way her words had made him felt was. Different. Nice. Appreciated. There's no longer a need to rationalize reasons not to like it, nor is there a need to leap from the window. It'd ruin his clothes, anyway.

"Heh. Yeah. There's been a lot of denial between us for awhile, hasn't there? I don't want to judge my past self too harshly but I think I'd be lying if I said there wasn't times before I ... well. Loved you. Really really enjoyed your presence." And now basking in the intimacy of watching her apply makeup and dress, enjoy her all the more.

Tongue glides over lips.

"So."

Wylan was back onto his feet, personal items put into their favored pockets and the coils of his inner springs preparing to add that spring into his step.

"Is this our first date?" He ponders. "I feel like we could call so many other things we got up to as dates, adding in the hindsight we have now as guy and gal." Comes the punctuation, an arm hooking around to take hers, and pulling the woman up to his side with both their preparations concluded. Door to the greater part of the suite thrown open so the two might venture forth.

[sturnsdarling]

'Chris likes girls who don't like him back'

Late night streaming with your best friends turns to a conversation about the boys' type, and Chris gets called out

vibe check: flirty fluffy fun, 3/4 of my favourite f words

1.4k words

A/N: i had this idea literally straight away after what Matt said about Chris' type.........the idea of being Chris' best friend that he openly fancies but you're 'not interested' makes MY TOES CURL BRO LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING anyway I hope you love this. PART TWO IS INCOMING…

love and cigs, merc

"Matt he's right there what the fuck are you doing?!" you scream down the mic, nearly throwing your controller across the room as you jolt back in your chair.

You watch as Matt gets sniped in the head from the back, laughing as he wails on this desk, making the whole stream glitch and nearly crash. Chris is laughing along with you, trying not to make it obvious that he's watching you, and not Matt.

"Matt, bro you need to fuckin' up your game, y/n/n is actually carrying us right now." Chris says as Matt picks his chair up off the floor and sits back down in a huff.

"I always carry when I come on with you boys" you smirk, looking at the tiny square of Chris on your screen.

"yeah because you're a little sweat" Matt chuckles.

The boys had been streaming everyday for over a week now and, after some convincing, they managed to get you to join in on one of their games. At first you were apprehensive, obviously, but they explained that they were trying to diversify their platform and find a more mature audience so, actually interacting with girls on the internet was their first step.

You and the boys had been friends for forever, you met them through Nick in elementary school and had basically all been inseparable ever since, you'd been in some earlier videos but the fans back then made it very difficult to just exist around them so, you took it upon yourself to only exist in their real life, not their online one.

Cut to right now, you're nearly two hours deep in fortnite trios with the boys on stream, everyone was super excited to see you when they announced that they'd be joining and, other than a couple comments that you all ignored, it was going really well.

"Matt, someone asked what our types are" Chris laughed, reading the chat.

"I'm not answering that" Matt dead panned, screwing his face up at the camera

"I can answer it for you both, for sure" you chuckle, "chat do you want me to answer it?"

"yes, yes, yes, yes, omg yes" Chris was reeling off the answers in chat, "everyone wants y/n/n to answer, Matt should we let her?" Chris asked.

Matt rolled his eyes with a smile, "g'head, y/n/n, expose us" He chuckled.

"okay, so" you said, in your best girly gossip voice, "Matt likes nerdy, reader, soft girls" you begin to explain, your train of thought is interrupted by Chris erupting into laughter.

"dude she's so right! you love a girl that looks like she's always buried in a book" Chris wails.

"what are you guys even saying?" Matt complains, the smile etched across his face giving his tone a lot less power.

"you definitely want a girl who will go on a hike with you or some shit, Matt" You say, enjoying this whole interaction a bit too much.

Chris was keeled over in laughter, loving finally being able to talk about this kind of stuff on the internet without everyone going insane.

"I dunno why you're laughing so much, Chris, you're next" Matt states, Chris shrugs in reply.

"i don't give a fuck, call me out y/n/n, gimme the best you got" Chris sits back in his chair, arms folded over his chest.

"hmmmm" you say, exaggerating your thinking, "what is the famous Christopher Sturniolos type" you rub your chin, pretending to be thinking deeply.

A knowing smirk is spread wide across Chris' face as he stares at your face on his screen, tongue prodding the side of his cheek.

"I know Chris' type" Matt adds, a menacing smile on his face.

"g'head matt, you take this one" you gesture to the boy on your screen.

"Chris likes girls who don't like him back" Matts brows raise in accusation towards Chris.

You try and hide the smile forming on your face, attempting to look as focused on the game as possible as your tongue prods at your teeth. Neither of the boys say anything, both of them cheesing, Matt in a teasing and knowing kind of way and Chris more so in a 'I cant say what I wanna say' kind of way.

"damn, Matt, you just called me the fuck out" Chris shakes his head, looking to the tiny version of you on his screen.

You're still quiet, trying to fight the smile on your face and look as focused as possible, you catch Chris looking as if he's looking at you on his screen and shake your head with a chuckle.

"what you grinnin' at, kid?" Chris smirks.

You raise your brows, shaking your head with a downwards smile, "no, nothin', nothin" you say, returning your focus back to the game.

All of the viewers watched the interaction and were blowing up the chat with comments about how Chris definitely likes you, saying things like 'did you guys see that?!', and 'think they're slick look at how they're both smiling!!!!!'. Chris was reading the comments and trying to hide the red blush crawling its way onto his cheeks, Matt was relishing in the fact that Chris was so obviously nervous, and you were just trying not to react.

"Chris, dude, you better wipe that smile off your face, chat's onto you" Matt pokes the bear.

"chat ain't onto shit, Matt, shut the fuck up" Chris says, trying to be serious but unable to push his smile down.

"you know i'm right though, you do like girls who don't want you" Matt pushed on with his joke.

"Matt, shut your fuckin' mouth, dude" Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head, his smile still prevalent.

You couldn't help but laugh, still pretending to not care about the situation unfolding. In hindsight, it probably made it all the more obvious that you knew exactly what Matt was referring to.

"you're awful quiet, y/n/n, you got nothing to say on Chris' type?" Matt extends his joke over to you and your attention is immediately on him.

"nah, you hit the nail on the head, I think" you shrug, stretching back in your chair and adjusting your headset.

"oh really?" Chris replies, brows raised in accusation.

"mhm" you nod, faux innocently.

Chris kisses his teeth, nodding and trying to hide the smile on his face once again.

"yeah, chat, Matts right, I like pretty girls, who don't like me back" Chris says, subtly turning his attention to you and then back to chat.

You roll your eyes with a smile, leaning forward once more to lock into the game.

"you're ridiculous, Chris" Matt chuckles into the mic, watching you shift in your seat, trying not to blush.

The rest of the game went off without a hitch, you guys went on to win multiple times and all the viewers eventually stopped trying to get the conversation back to Chris' obvious crush on you. You played until the early hours of the morning, joking and laughing with the boys' just like old times and relishing in the fact that you were finally able to be a part of their online presence again. When it hit around three a.m you told them you had to sign off, explaining that you had to be up early for college that morning.

"guys, I gotta go, but I'll text you when I wake up" you said, pulling off your headset, and brushing your hair back with your hand.

"alright, y/n/n, thanks for helping us bury kids, its always a treat" Matt grinned at you, shooting you his token boyish smile.

"you know I live to humble kids on fort, Matt" You shrugged, putting on your best boyish persona, earning a laugh from Matt

"okay seriously, I gotta go, bye chat!" you smile, "bye boys" you go to switch off your computer but you're stopped by Chris booming voice.

"bye, beautiful" he says, a cheesy grin on his face.

your eyes roll to the back of your head as an uncontrollable smile finds your lips, "bye, Chris" you reply, switching off your computer.

The whole chat erupts with people losing their minds over Chris calling you beautiful, the boys say nothing, Matt just shakes his head, laughing at the chat as he watches Chris, grinning with pride and completely unashamed of his very obvious crush on you.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 10: Treat Me Gently

Summary: You and Price take your relationship to the next level. It might be the best decision you've ever made.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, p in v sex, fingering, oral, first time sex, unprotected(ish) sex, reader has an implant, creampie, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, the author is a bit rusty writing smut.

A/N: It's finally here. It's finally arrived, the moment we've all been waiting for! Uh, yeah, it's mostly badly written smut with just a little plot thrown in there. So...I hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

Your attention is pulled from your book as the couch sinks on either side of you, two bodies joining you. You glance up from your book as an arm drapes itself across the back of the couch behind you. Your eyes flicker between Gaz and Johnny, mischievous grins on their faces. 

“We heard you have a date this weekend.” Gaz says, leaning in closer. 

Your face warms at his words. “Well, I don’t know if I’d call it a date...” 

“What are you wearing?” Gaz asks. 

“Do ye have anythin’ to wear?” Johnny asks. 

Their questions give you pause. The most formal thing you have are jeans and, though you doubt Price would care if you showed up in sweatpants, you would like to have something nice to wear. 

“Come on.” Gaz says, slapping your thigh before standing. “We’re going shopping.” 

“What?” You glance between him and Johnny as they stand over you. 

“Already got permission from Price.” Johnny says. “So come on.” He grabs your hands, lifting you to your feet easily. “Let’s get goin’, kitten.” 

Your cheeks warm at the pet name, Johnny’s hand settling on your lower back to steer you from the rec room. You don’t have much of a choice but to follow, grabbing a couple things from your room before you leave the barracks with them to a car parked outside. It’s different from the car you and Price had taken to town last weekend. Of course, they probably all have their own vehicles, or at least a few at their disposal. 

“I’m driving.” Gaz says, plucking the keys from Johnny’s hand. 

“Aww, ye never let me drive!” Johnny pouts. 

“Yeah, because with our luck you’ll traumatize her so badly, she’ll never want to leave again.” Gaz says, opening the driver’s side door. 

You can’t help but giggle at the dejected look on Johnny’s face as you get into the back, Johnny muttering the entire way to the passenger side. 

“I’m no’ that bad of a driver.” Johnny says, buckling his seatbelt. 

“Yeah, but both you and Simon seem to be in agreement that the speed limit is a suggestion, not a law.” Gaz says as he turns on the car. “I’d like to make it there and back in one piece, thank you. Besides, Price would have both our heads if anything happened to our girl on our watch.”

Your cheeks warm as you meet Gaz's gaze through the rear view mirror. Your heart flutters at the look in his eyes, the dedication and protectiveness shining in them. 

“I wouldnae let anything happen to ye.” Johnny says, reaching back to squeeze your knee for a moment. 

You stare out the window of the car as Gaz drives towards town, half listening to the conversation in the front seat. You're beginning to recognize landmarks, buildings, areas between the base and town despite it only being your second trip. They'd be proud of you, you think. At least if something happened, you'd be able to give a landmark. 

The farmlands fade into the city and soon Gaz is parking on the street in front of a shop. You take Gaz's hand as he helps you out of the car, lacing your fingers together. Soap holds the door to the shop open, letting you and Gaz walk through first. 

It's a nice boutique filled with all sorts of formal wear. You wonder how they even knew about this place, or if they had done some research beforehand. Both make you feel honored that they would even go to those lengths just for you. 

They are going to be your pack soon. 

Packs do this sort of thing for each other. They take care of each other, spoil each other, make each other happy. It’s hard to be a good pack if one member is unhappy. 

“Good afternoon.” One of the workers approaches you. “My name is Emily. Is there something I can help you find today?” 

“Our omega has a date with our alpha this weekend.” Gaz says, smiling down at you. “She needs something to wear.” 

The worker, Emily, smiles at you. “How exciting! Did you have anything in mind? Style, color, anything like that?”

“Probably nothing too fancy,” You say, eyeing the racks. “And, probably a dress.”

“Alright, we've got lots of options for that. Let's take a look and you can try some on.” Emily says. 

Gaz keeps hold of your hand as you follow Emily through the racks, looking at some of the options. Johnny goes off on his own, perusing the racks himself. 

“Is there a certain color you have in mind?” Emily asks you.

You hum in contemplation, looking at the many racks. You're not sure what color Price would like, or if he even has a favorite. 

“His favorite color is blue, like a dark navy blue.” Johnny answers for you. “Though, I think he'd like you in any color.” 

You can't help the way your cheeks warm a bit at Johnny's words. You realize you don't even know their favorite colors. There's still so much about them that's a mystery to you. 

“What's your favorite color?” You ask, looking up at Gaz. 

“I don't think I have just one.” He says, running his hand over a sequin covered dress on the rack in front of you “I like warm colors. Reds, oranges, purples.”

“Like a sunset.” You say, looking at a tag on one of the dresses, nearly choking at the price. 

Gaz gently removes the tag from your hand, giving you a look as you meet his gaze. “Don't even worry about it, love.” He says quietly, leaning down to kiss your cheek. 

“My favorite color is green.” Johnny says, appearing next to you suddenly. 

“Let me guess, Ghost’s is black.” You say. 

Johnny's mouth twitches. “Now how'd you come to guess that?” 

You shrug, unable to hide your grin. “Call it intuition.” 

Emily takes you to the changing rooms, the boys taking seats outside to wait for you to try on the dresses you've chosen so far. You pick a sleeveless, blue, knee-length dress first with a ruched skirt. You already don't like it, but you know the guys will want to see it regardless. 

You feel nervous, strangely exposed as you step out of the dressing room and make your way to where the guys are sitting. They both straighten up as you approach, Johnny’s eyes immediately on your legs. Gaz let's out a low whistle as his eyes scan your figure, ending on your legs as well. 

“What?” You ask concerned as you stare down at your own legs thinking the worst, like how you might have missed a spot shaving or something. 

“Nothin’ love,” Gaz says, unable to lift his gaze from your legs. “Just never seen you in anything but long pants before.”

Your cheeks warm at his words. It's true, the climate had yet to allow for anything but long pants. Even to sleep, you found yourself too cold without long sleep pants. 

“Christ, you've got gorgeous legs, kitten.” Soap says, letting his eyes trail your form. “Keepin’ those hidden from us?” 

Your face feels like it's on fire as they stare at you, and quickly turn to face the large mirror across from them in an attempt to steady the butterflies in your stomach. 

“What do you think?” Emily asks, stepping up next to you. 

“It's a little too...churchy for a date.” You say smoothing your hands over the skirt. “Definitely need something fancier than this.”

You try on a few of the others, but none of them are right. Too short, too long, too formal, not formal enough. Johnny brings you more to try, a couple sticking out, but you're not sold on any of them. 

The last dress you have yet to try on catches your eye as you pull it off the hook. It's a deep blue color, almost black. It's long sleeved and covers your front entirely, but the back is open. It's short, the skirt hem long enough to cover your ass, but you wouldn't dare bend over. It hugs your figure, accentuating the curves and lines of your body. 

Your cheeks are warm as you step out of the changing room, both Gaz and Johnny going slack-jawed as they stare at you. Even Emily looks in awe as you stand in front of them. 

“I think you've found the one, love.” Gaz says, his eyes trailing your form. “Give us a spin.”

You do a slow turn, not missing the way their eyes widen in the mirror when they see the back, Johnny still frozen as you turn back to face them. 

“How do you feel?” Emily asks, stepping up to you. 

“Good.” You say, your face still warm. “Really good.”

“Yeah,” She says, looking you over. “I think you've hit the mark with this one. Let me grab shoes and we'll put the whole look together.”

You turn to face the mirror as she steps away, your eyes meeting Gaz's as he steps up to you. 

“You look fantastic, love.” He says, leaning in close over your shoulder, his breath fanning your ear. Goosebumps form on your skin as his fingers slowly trail up the line of your spine. “Price is going to want to devour you instantly as soon as he sees you in this one.”

You shiver at his words, biting your lip as his fingers splay out across your upper back. “You think so?”

There's a mischievous glint in his eyes as he holds your gaze through the mirror. “He won't be able to keep his hands off you. Gonna drive him insane, making him sit through dinner looking like a delicious dessert.” 

You fear you might start smoking from how warm you feel, glad for Emily's reappearance. You try on the shoes she brings, opting for the shorter heels for the sake of your own dignity. 

Johnny distracts you as Gaz pays for the items, spending far too much on you but neither will let you complain. It's what they're supposed to do. 

They are your pack after all. 

“What about lingerie?” Johnny asks, turning to look at you as you sit in the car. 

Your face burns at his question. You hadn't thought about that bit. 

“Gotta dress up the whole fit.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“Lay off her, perv.” Gaz says, smacking Johnny's chest. “He's right though, gotta make sure the whole outfit matches.”

You feel like you might implode in the backseat. You might not make it to Saturday at this rate. 

You wake early on Saturday. You don't have to be up early. There's nothing going on until tonight, no need for you to rise earlier than the sun. Yet, you can't help the anticipation burning in your stomach, the nervous fluttering in your chest. Tonight you're going to sleep with Price for the first time. Tonight you'll allow him closer than you've ever allowed anyone. 

You have an outfit, you have fancy underwear, even new shoes. You're not sure how you want to wear your hair. You're not sure on makeup either, though Price has seen you plenty without it and has yet to offer any complaints. 

You grab your phone, laying in bed and scrolling hair tutorials until the sun comes up and you start hearing movement in the hallway. You don’t bother changing, pulling on shoes before stepping out. You are hungry, even after spending half the day in town and eating dinner out with Gaz and Johnny yesterday. You slip out the door, coming face to face with Ghost. You tilt your head back, staring up at him. 

“Didn’t expect to see you.” He grumbles. “Figured you’d be busy getting ready.” 

“I’ve got like ten hours until I have to be ready.” You say, blinking up at him. “It doesn’t take that long.” 

He lets out a huff, rolling his eyes. “Come on.” 

You follow him out of the barracks, but you find yourself not having to speed walk quite as fast to keep up with him today. 

“Are you upset?” You ask, kicking up your pace a bit so you can walk side by side with him. 

“About what?” He asks. 

“Price and I.” You say. 

“Why would I be?” He sounds genuinely baffled that you’re asking him. 

You shrug. “You’re an alpha in the pack too, and I didn’t really ask anyone but Price.” 

“Price is your alpha.” He says, as if it’s the most straightforward thing in the world. He’s not wrong, Price is the only one that really matters when it comes to you, since he’s the pack alpha, and he’ll be the one claiming you. 

“Would you ever want to be?” You ask, looking up at him. 

He meets your gaze as he opens the door to the mess, not answering as you slip into the hall. He stands closer to you than he normally does as you get in line for food, tailing you like a shadow as you find Johnny among the drowsy and hungover soldiers in the mess. 

You take a seat across from him, Ghost taking his spot next to Johnny. You can feel the nerves beginning to take hold as you eat, thinking about your date tonight. It’s not like you really have to impress Price much, though you suppose you could make him dislike you rather easily. You’d rather avoid that situation, as there’s no getting out of mating and being claimed by him. You’re going to be part of his pack whether he likes you or not. 

What if he finds you boring? You’re not even sure what you could talk about. It’s not like you do much, and he already knows most everything he can about you. The only thing you have to talk about are things you’d rather not discuss during your first date. You’d prefer not to discuss them at all. 

“You’ll be fine.” Johnny says as you walk back to the barracks. “Just get ‘im talking, and ye won’t need tae worry about gettin’ a word in yourself.” 

Johnny’s words do make you giggle. You’re sure Price has so much more to talk about than you do. You barely know anything about him in general. 

It’s ironic that you’re more nervous about dinner than you are about the fact Price is going to take your virginity tonight. 

You did ask for this. It’ll be good, getting to know him before your heat starts. The idea of going through your heat with a virtual stranger is terrifying to you, and Price had so willingly offered to do this so that doesn’t happen, so you feel more comfortable with being mated and claimed by someone you at least somewhat know. This is your chance to get to know your pack alpha, your alpha before you’re forced to. This is your chance to make your own decision, to have some control over a life that’s been dictated for you this far. 

You spend the morning in a nervous panic, looking up tips online, tutorials, possible questions he might ask and thinking up answers that will make you sound interesting at least. Answers that won’t just be parroting things that he already knows. Gaz brings you lunch, letting you continue to prepare for your date, knowing the chances of you having a breakdown if you’re forced around people are high right now. 

You give yourself ample time to get ready, showering and moisturizing, making sure you smell clean and look nice. You do your hair, taking your time to make yourself look decent. You opt for minimal make up, wanting to make yourself seem like you at least put a little effort into your looks. 

You're strapping on your shoes when the knock comes at the door. Six o'clock sharp, just as you expected. You take a deep breath, adjusting your dress before you open the door.

John is standing on the other side, dressed in a button up shirt and slacks. You look him over, the fresh scent of cologne reaching your nose. His eyes rake your form, his scent slipping through the cologne as his gaze darkens a bit. Gaz was right. He does look like he wants to devour you. 

“You clean up nicely.” You say, looking him over again. His shirt hugs his muscles nicely, his pants obviously tailored to fit him. You haven't seen him in anything but fatigues and civilian clothes so far. 

“Was going to say the same to you.” He says, lips pulling up into a smile. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” 

Your cheeks warm at the compliment. “Thank you.”

“Hungry?” He asks, offering you an arm. 

“Always.” You say, taking his arm, letting him lead you towards the rec room. 

The lights inside are dimmed, the table usually reserved for games set up with a tablecloth and candles, along with two plates covered with cloches, and a bottle of wine. You're not sure when he managed to procure the wine, or maybe he had it saved and decided this was as good a time as any. 

“Wow.” You say, impressed by the effort he obviously put into everything. 

“I bribed the boys out of here for a few hours.” He says, leading you to the table. “Wasn't easy.”

“I bet.” You say, sitting down in one of the chairs, letting him push it in for you. 

He pours you both glasses of wine before taking the cloches off the plates. You blink in surprise at the meal on the plate. Spaghetti, a salad, and bread. It's so simple, yet it takes you right back to weeknight dinners at home. 

“You made this?” You ask as he takes the seat across from you. 

He nods. “I've amassed many skills over the years. I'm no five star chef, but I can throw things together in a pinch.”

“Well it looks good.” You say, picking up your fork. 

It tastes good too. It's so simple, yet it's one of the best things you've eaten in the last month. You miss a lot of things about America, and the food is starting to be one of those. 

You and John make small talk as you eat, the wine warming your body and easing your nerves. 

“How long has it been,” You ask him as you clear your plate. “Since you were with an omega last?”

“Two years.” He says, taking a sip of wine. 

Your eyes widen in surprise. You know they've been with omegas in the past, taking advantage of barrack bunnies and the swaths of willing omegas you know populate near military bases. You just hadn't thought it would be that far back in the past.

“Right around the time the task force was created.” He continues. “We were too busy bonding and working on the task force, by the time we had a moment long enough for anything like that, we didn't need them anymore.”

“That must have been torture.” You say, staring at him wide eyed. 

“We're trained for that sort of thing.” He says with a smile. “How to fight off those urges, those needs. When you're in the field, something like that could get you killed. You don't pass selection into the SAS until you can show mastery over those skills.”

“Damn.” You say, taking a sip of your wine. “Still, it couldn't have been easy.”

“It can be hard, once you've been with an omega, to go without. But that's just part of the job.” 

“Well, I suppose that's partly why I'm here.” You say, huffing out a laugh. 

“Perhaps.” He says. “I'm certain we're not getting the full story.”

The double meaning isn't lost on you. There's a lot they don't know about you, things that are safer buried deep where they can't hurt anyone. Things you'd like to keep buried for the rest of time. 

“It’s nothing...bad is it?” You ask, searching his gaze. 

“I’d like to think not,” He says. 

But... 

You don’t need to hear him say it. You know it’s there, lingering at the end of that statement. You wonder how many times he’s been in these situations, forced to place blind trust in someone and hope they have the best intentions in mind. You’re all too familiar with those sorts of situations. Putting blind trust in strangers was your life purpose as soon as you presented as an omega. 

“We’re not going to let anything happen to you.” He says, staring at you with such conviction you can’t help but believe him. “You’re part of our pack, which makes you part of this team, even if bureaucracy says otherwise. We take care of each other, and that includes you. You’re our omega, regardless of whatever the endgame is for this initiative.” 

You feel almost breathless at his words, at his declaration of loyalty to you. You know how much loyalty means to someone like him, the kind of promise words like that uphold. They’d give their lives to defend you. You’d fight to defend them too, if it came down to it. Not that you could do much, but you’d try. 

“You’re my omega.” John says, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. “I take care of what's mine.”

You nod, trying to fight the tears welling in your eyes. “I know. You've...you've been a better alpha than I could have ever hoped for. Despite everything you've been kind and caring and understanding. I know some things we learned at the institute weren’t right, but...I was expecting a lot worse.”

His thumb draws circles on the back of your hand, his fingers gently squeezing yours. “I'm glad I could prove that wrong. I know this situation is weird and less than ideal, but I fear I'll have to tell Kate she was right. She did pick a good omega.”

You smile, preening a bit under his praise. “That’s all I can try to be.” 

“You can be so much more than that.” He says, lifting your hand to his lips. His beard tickles your skin as he presses a line of kisses across the back of your hand before turning it, kissing across your palm to your wrist. He presses his nose against the skin there, inhaling deeply. “You’re sure, about tonight?” 

Your fingers brush his cheek as he holds your hand against his face. Your heart is thudding your throat at the proximity, those nervous flutters starting in your stomach again. He’s giving you an out, a chance to take back what you had asked for. You know he wouldn’t blame you. He was more than willing to wait for your heat to start, for when you had no choice, when it would mean less because you would be desperate and needy for him. 

You don’t want that, though. You want him to want you before his instincts tell him he does. You want to know he’s not just fulfilling a duty, scratching an itch that’s been tickling him for two years now. You want him to want you as you are now. You want him to choose you. 

“Yes.” You say, pressing your palm flat against his cheek. “Just...be gentle with me?” 

“Of course.” He says, kissing your palm again. “You change your mind at any time, you tell me, yeah?” 

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“Good.” He takes your hand in his again, standing from his seat. 

Nerves mix with excitement as he pulls you to your feet with him, stepping up close to you. His hand lifts, tilting your chin up. Your stomach flutters as you meet his gaze, his eyes warm and soft as he stares at you. Affection shines in them as his thumb brushes your lip before he’s leaning down, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is short and sweet, like the ones you’ve shared with him before. Yet, at the same time it feels different. There’s warmth beginning to blossom under your skin, the kiss not just a simple sign of affection this time. It’s the overture, the appetizer, just a teasing taste of what’s to come. 

You hold his hand as he leads you down the hallway, heels clacking on the tile floor. It makes your face warm, the thought that they all know what it means, they can hear it and they know what’s about to happen. They know where you’re going, what you’re about to do. 

John opens his door, motioning for you to enter. You haven’t been in any of their rooms yet, you haven’t invaded their own sacred spaces. Your steps are slow and cautious as you breach that barrier, John’s scent washing over you as you step into his room. 

It’s neat and tidy, just as you expected it would be. It’s not laid out all that differently from your own, though perhaps a bit more organized and clinical than yours. There’s a shelf next to his nightstand, stuffed with books and what you can assume are souvenirs from places he’s been. There’s stacks of papers on the desk, his clothes and shoes tucked away neatly in their places. His bed is slightly bigger than yours, and you wonder if that’s a perk of his status, or if he pulled some strings once he learned he was getting an omega. 

The door clicking shut draws your attention back to John, the click of the handle a finality. You’re doing this. There’s no going back now. 

Not that you want to. 

John steps up to you, staring down at you. You stare up into his eyes as his hand comes to rest on your waist, his touch hot through the thin fabric of your dress. “You’re sure you want to do this?” He asks, voice rumbling in his chest. 

You nod, your hands slowly sliding up his arms, feeling the muscle hidden beneath his dress shirt. “Yes.” 

His lips meet yours, beard tickling your skin as he kisses you. You let him lead, leaning into him as he pulls you closer against his chest. He’s so warm, so firm under your hands as you grip his shoulders. His hand slides from your hip to your back, a gasp parting your lips as his calloused fingers touch the bare skin of your back. Goosebumps raise on your skin, a shiver running down your spine at his touch. He tilts his head, taking advantage of your parted lips to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He tastes like wine, a quiet sound leaving your throat as he pulls you tighter against him, pressing your body into his. You can feel all of him, the hard ridges, the strength in his body as he cages you in his arms. Your head is spinning, intoxicated purely by the smell and taste of him. 

Something rumbles deep in his chest, your entire body shivering in response. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, your hips pressed flush against his. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach. You’ve been able to smell the musky tinge of arousal in his scent all evening, and you wonder how long he’s been hard. Has it been since he saw you? Or has he been thinking about this all day? 

The thought thrills you, makes your omega preen in the back of your mind. You did this. Your alpha is all worked up because of you. 

A whimper leaves your lips as his hand slips lower, smoothing over the curve of your ass. He mumbles a curse against your lips before they blaze a path down the line of your jaw to your neck. You tilt your head, bearing your throat for him. A low rumble of approval vibrates through his chest, his hand squeezing your ass. The sound has your omega practically belly up, the dampness between your thighs intensifying as your scent gets heavier in the air. 

John groans against your throat, teeth nipping at your neck just over your scent gland. “Such a good girl for me.” He groans, his hand on your ass guiding your hips to grind against his. “Such a good omega.” 

You whine at the praise, hands blindly sliding down his chest to pull at the buttons of his shirt. Your fingers are trembling slightly from excitement, fumbling as you attempt to get his shirt off. You need to feel him, his skin against yours, the warmth of him pressed against you. 

“Easy pup.” His voice rumbles against your throat, teeth nipping at the delicate skin before he pulls back, hands taking over to strip him of his button up and undershirt. 

You lick your lips as his skin is revealed to you, your hand automatically lifting to touch him. You hesitate for a half a second but he makes no move to stop you. Your eyes trail over his form, over the many, many scars that decorate his skin like some kind of macabre painting. Lines and jagged slices, the telltale star shaped marks of bullet wounds. Cuts and nicks from knives or bullets, you can’t tell the difference. 

Your fingers settle on a rather large scar on his side, starting at the base of his ribs and curling around his side. It’s an old scar, but the skin is still rough and uneven. Whatever had caused it, it took a chunk out of him. You don’t want to think about it, about how every scar could have been a close call. How many times he’s been on the brink of death. 

“I’ll tell you about them later.” He says, taking your hand in his and lifting it to his lips. He kisses your fingertips, his beard tickling your skin. “Tonight is about you.” 

He pulls you close again, leaning down to press his lips to yours. His hands are warm against your back as he wraps himself around you again, trapping your hands against his bare chest. Your nails dig into his skin as his hands sink lower, grabbing handfuls of your ass. He groans, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip. He presses you backwards, and you trust him to guide you until your legs hit the side of his bed. 

“Gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?” He growls, his voice rough around the edges as his alpha slips through. 

“Yes, alpha!” You gasp against his lips, your head tilting back in submission. 

“Always such a good omega for me.” He praises you, teeth nipping at your throat. “Good omegas kneel for their alphas.” He says, pushing you backwards so you plop down on his bed. “But a good alpha,” He slowly lowers himself before you, dropping to one knee, then the other as his hands wrap around your ankles. “Kneels for his omega.”

Your face warms as you stare down at him, unable to do anything but watch as his hands make quick work of your shoes, setting them neatly beside the bed. His skin is rough against yours as his hands drag up your legs, slowly parting them. He moves himself closer, kneeling between your parted thighs. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he reaches up, pushing on your stomach until you're laying flat on his bed. He can see up your skirt now, and you're silently glad for the lacy panties Johnny had insisted on. 

“Do you trust me?” His lips brush your inner thigh as his hands pause just at the hem of your skirt where it's ridden up almost to your hips. 

“Yes, alpha.” You say, lifting your head to stare down at him. 

He meets your gaze as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his hands continuing to press upwards until your dress is hiked around your waist. Your heart is fluttering rapidly in your chest as you stare down at him, his gaze leaving your eyes to stare at the soaked lace barely covering your most private parts. 

His hands leave your hips to curl around the lace, giving it a sharp tug. The fabric snaps easily, the shreds falling to the floor. Your lip part as you stare at him in shock.  

“I'll buy you a new pair.” He says, his hands gripping your thighs to pull them further apart. 

The cool air in the room hits your slicked folds, making you shudder. He's barely touched you and already you can feel how slick you are. His lips press against your inner thigh again, blazing a path upwards. His gaze meets yours again as his hands shift to grip your hips, adjusting your position on the bed before he leans in, dragging his tongue through your folds. 

You gasp at the foreign sensation, your thighs pressing against his broad shoulders. His mouth is warm as it closes over your pussy, his tongue licking another slow stripe up your folds until he reaches the spot that has your inhale turning into a gasp. 

He focuses his attention there, dragging slow lines across your clit with his tongue. You let your arms give out, laying flat on the bed again. Little whimpers leave your lips as he teases your clit, your thighs already trembling. It’s been so long since you’ve touched yourself. Not since before you left the institute four months ago. 

You don’t last very long. 

Your thighs squeeze around his shoulders as your orgasm is ripped from you suddenly. You let out a cry that’s probably too loud, but you don’t care who could have heard you as your back arches off the bed, pressing your hips closer to John’s face. His hands hold your thighs, keeping you still as his tongue continues to tease your clit, working you through your orgasm. 

It’s not until you’re writhing in his grasp, letting out little whimpers that he relents, lifting his face from between your thighs. His beard is shiny with your juices, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. It’s obscene and yet, it has heat pulsing straight between your legs again. He lets out a chuckle, the scent of your arousal washing over him. 

“Fuckin sweet as sugar, love.” He says as he pushes himself up from between your legs, his body folding over yours on the bed. 

His face presses into your neck, inhaling deeply. Your pussy flutters at the thought of him claiming you now, sinking his teeth into your skin to mark you as his forever. He could. It would be so easy for him to do it. His tongue laves over the skin covering your scent gland, a shiver running through you. Your arms wrap around him, holding him against you as your scents mingle, musky with arousal. 

“Alpha...” You whine, your hips pressing up against the bulge in his pants. He’s fully hard now, the fabric of his pants providing delicious friction against your folds. 

He shushes you, pressing a kiss to your throat before he pushes himself up over you. “Soon, love.” He says, moving until he’s standing in front of you. “Think you’re a bit overdressed still.” 

Your eyes dart down to his pants. “So are you.” 

He smirks, his hands dropping to your waist, slowly pushing your dress up higher. You let him slip it over your head, lifting your arms to help him. You’re bare before him, warmth spreading through your veins as he stares down at you. Your hands lift, coming to rest on his thighs. You can feel the muscle through the fabric, the strength of him beneath your hands. How easily he could take control, pin you down and take what he wants with little regard for you or your pleasure. How easily he could hurt you, snap your bones like they’re toothpicks, bruise and batter your body without even straining a muscle. 

Yet he stands here, patiently watching as your hands move closer and closer to the prominent bulge in his fitted pants. He doesn’t even twitch as your hand cups his hard length, your breath stuttering at the sheer size of him. He’s big like most alphas are, or so you’ve heard. 

His eyes stare into you as you undo his belt, popping the button on his pants open. He finally moves as you pull down the zipper, helping you tug his pants and briefs down. His cock stands at attention, almost as stiff as he is. You stare at his veiny cock with wide eyes, the tip flushed almost red with how hard he is. 

“Christ.” You breathe, staring at him in awe. 

You did that. 

“Easy, love.” He says, leaning down to wrap an arm around your waist. “I said tonight was about you.” 

He moves you so you’re laid out on the bed, your head hitting his pillow. The scent of him floods your nose as he joins you on the bed, the frame creaking as he kneels between your legs. Nerves twist in your stomach as you continue to stare at his cock bobbing between his thighs as he runs his hands along your legs. It’s going to hurt, you know that. It suddenly seems daunting, this request. At least during your heat you’d be so out of it with need you wouldn’t really feel anything. And you’d have plenty of slick to help. 

“None of that.” He says, squeezing your thighs gently. “I told you I’d take care of you.” 

You nod, swallowing thickly. 

“We’ve got more work to do before we reach that point. I’m not just going to stuff my cock into you like some needy pup.” He stares at you. “You tell me and I’ll stop, alright?” 

You nod again. “Yes, alpha.” 

Your breath hitches as his hands reach the junction of your thighs, one moving to your stomach, the other dragging through your folds, gathering your wetness on his fingers. They’re so much thicker than your own, your pussy clenching as he presses against the entrance. 

“Relax for me, love.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your stomach with his thumb. 

His finger presses into you and your lips part at the intrusion. You clamp tight around his finger, making him groan. 

“Easy.” He says, his thumb moving to circle your clit. 

A breathy whine leaves your lips as his finger presses deeper into you, reaching further than you ever could. Your hand reaches up to thread through his hair, letting the short cropped strands slide through your fingers. It’s softer than you imagined, though you expect he too had spent the afternoon preparing for tonight as well. The mental image of him lathering himself in moisturizer would have made you laugh if his finger hadn’t brushed against a spot inside you that has your hips lifting off the bed. 

He leans down, lips blazing a path up your stomach, between your breasts to your throat. He swallows your moans as he works you open with his fingers, the lewd sound of his fingers thrusting into your wet pussy only adding to the pleasure coursing through you. You can feel it building within you, heat burning through your veins. Price groans against your lips as your nails scratch his scalp, his cock leaking against your thigh. You want him, need him inside of you. You need to feel him, you need to be close to him. 

“Alpha, please.” You whimper, tugging at his hair. 

He stares down at you, eyes blown with lust. “Please, what?” 

“Need you.” You whimper, grinding against his hand. “Please, sir.” 

Price closes his eyes, letting out a groan. His cock twitches against your thigh, his fingers slipping from you. He breathes out a curse, shifting to open his nightstand. He pulls out a bottle of lube, sitting back on his knees to squirt some into his hand. You’re plenty slick, but you watch as he rubs the lube on his cock, tossing the bottle back into the open drawer. 

He kneels between your thighs again, staring down at you as one of his hands comes to rest on your hip. You feel intoxicated, your head spinning from the intensity of his scent around you and the knowledge of what’s about to happen. 

Price folds his body over yours again, the head of his cock brushing your folds. You moan into his mouth as he kisses you, parting your thighs further for him as his tip catches on your opening. Your hands grip his shoulders as he presses into you, the stretch stinging a bit as he works you open. This is it. There’s no going back now. 

You don’t want to. 

You whimper quietly as he pushes into you, nails biting into his skin. It’s too much, yet you can’t get enough of it as he sinks further in. You let out a shaky breath as he pulls away from your lips staring down at your face. 

“Alright?” He asks, stilling where he is. 

You nod. “Just need a moment. You’re really big.” 

His lips twitch up into a smile, a pleased growl rumbling through his chest. “Don’t start talking like that, love.” He says, leaning down to press kisses to your face. 

“Or what?” You ask, your nails digging harder into his skin. 

“I might not be able to control myself.” He growls, his alpha slipping out around the edges of his voice. 

Your pussy clenches at his words, walls clamping down around him. He lets out another growl, hiking your leg up over his hip. It forces him deeper into you, your breath catching at the feeling of him spreading you open. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, rocking your hips to take him even deeper into you. 

John’s arms frame your head as he presses his body against yours. Your arms slip around his back, legs locking around his waist as he begins to move slowly, working himself deeper and deeper into you until he’s pressed flush against you. He stills for a moment, pressing his forehead to yours as you both breathe. You’re trembling just slightly, overwhelmed with being so close to him, to your alpha. The pain and discomfort is gone, replaced by burning heat as desire pulses through your veins. 

“Please, alpha.” You whimper. 

He shushes you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’ve got you, omega.” 

Your skin is slick with sweat already as he begins to rock his hips into you. Your hands press into his back, feeling the muscles shift and flex as he moves. It feels good, the friction of your bodies, the way he stretches you open with every thrust. Your head is spinning with pleasure at the thought of being so close to another person, being so connected with someone else. 

Not just someone else, with your alpha. 

The wet squelch of your pussy as he thrusts into you is loud, the mattress creaking as he picks up speed. You’re trembling, your thighs squeezing around his hips as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. You’re not sure how he’s lasted this long, especially without any sort of release for himself yet tonight. 

Perhaps it was the training he spoke about earlier.

You’re not sure how he manages it. You couldn’t have that kind of control. Not after this. Not after knowing how good it can feel, how good he can make you feel. 

“Fucking feel so good.” He grunts, his breath fanning her ear. His own skin is slicked with sweat, muscles twitching under her hands. “So fucking tight and warm.” 

“John!” You gasp, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades as he picks up the pace even more, his hips snapping against yours. 

“Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum like a good omega? Need you to cum for me.” He grunts, staring down at you. 

You let out a whine, arching against him as you seek your second high of the night. His cock brushes that spot inside of you, stars nearly erupting behind your eyes. 

“Right there.” You gasp, thighs shaking around his hips. “Fuck, right there!” 

You’re being loud but you don’t care, nails dragging down his back as he focuses his thrusts right at that spot inside you. You cum with a cry, pussy squeezing around him. He lets out a loud groan, his hips stilling as he twitches inside you. His muscles go lax, his body falling on top of yours. He manages to keep himself from squishing you beneath him, his face pressing against your neck. 

The smell of sex, arousal, sweat, and your own combined scents are heavy in the air. You’re shaking, still wrapped tightly around John as he lays on top of you. He’s breathing heavily, warm breaths fanning against your neck. You don’t want to move, your mind buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm still. 

“Alright?” He murmurs, lips pressing a gentle kiss against your throat. 

You nod, slowly unwinding yourself from around him. “Yeah. ‘M good.” 

“Fucking Christ, a man could get addicted to that.” He says, lifting his face from your neck. “Sweet little omega.” 

Your face warms more than it already feels, and you lean into his touch as his fingers brush your cheek. 

“Let me go get something to clean this mess up with.” He says, pushing himself up so he’s kneeling. 

You can’t help but giggle as his joints pop and he lets out a groan at the effort. “Need a break, old man.” 

His eyes flash playfully, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Going with the old man insults again, huh?” 

You give him a look. “You’re the one grunting while getting up.” 

You let out a surprised yelp as he brings his hand down on your thigh, the skin tingling as he gets up. “I’ll show you old man.” He murmurs as he heads for his en suite. 

You bite your lip as you begin to feel his release slipping out of you, the feeling causing desire to stir in your stomach once more. 

John tsks as he comes back, wiping the mess between your thighs. “Needy little thing.” He practically purrs, stepping away to toss the rag into the bathroom sink before he returns, climbing back onto the bed.

You press as close to him as you can, nuzzling into his neck. Your limbs are still twitching a bit, your mind buzzing from the aftermath of what had just transpired. John wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. You press a gentle kiss to his neck, earning a rumble in response. Your own rumble starts up as you purr contently, tossing a leg over his hip to allow you to get as close to him as possible. 

He huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Comfortable?” 

You purr louder in response, sleep beginning to fog the corners of your mind. 

“Good girl.” He says, pressing another kiss to your head. “Sleep. Alpha’s got you.”

NEXT ->

Taglist:

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

[puppy-the-mask]

Some Lmk Cas and Connie things;

-In the initial storyline Cas is from a border town close to demon territory, as close as human civilization dares to live. The town has lots of guards because of this. She learns swordsmanship through her brothers, who her father teaches so they may follow in his footsteps. She acts as a sparring partner enough times to get some harmless practice in and would later develop her skills in private.

-Cas' real passion is music, becoming a performer and traveling to a bigger town for work. It's the road between these towns that she utilizes her sword skills with any bandits she encounters

-Any timelines where they meet in the modern day have Cas as a normal person who plays with local bands for extra cash and would now have to learn self defense to keep up with all the weird demonic stuff going on in their life

-After fusing with the consumption Cas suffers from frequent nightmares, which spread the consumption subconsciously as a way to protect herself from the 'danger' in her dreams. Only people that she no longer sees as a threat/trusts with her life are immune to the goop and able to safely touch it. This is rare as he must instinctively trust them/ want to protect them enough that even panicked and asleep the ooze doesn't touch them or consider them a threat

-Until they come to terms with their situation and new companion Cas is highly unstable, the slightest anger or panic causes the consumption to manifest. It isn't until they finally talk with Connie that she starts learning how to control it

-While sealed away Cas covered the cave walls in songs they wrote while they were trapped as a way to pass the time

-Connie is AroAce, quite literally only interested in food. They've never had a friend before but if someone managed to become close with them they wouldn't believe they were really cared about or that the person truly understands What they are.

-If they Do then Connie will not really know what to do about it, they're caught off guard and don't like it. Hold their hand and walk them through relationships, they don't understand. But they're quietly harassing Cas into teaching them about friendship and how to care about people.

-Connie's love language is Gifts(Aka Free Food), Words of Affirmation, and Quality Time. They love receiving food and actually going out of your way to spend time with them (despite having to stick close to Cas) makes them feel appreciated. It's not often people hang around for Them rather than Cas since they don't come out much. They also never realized how nice it feels to be complimented and told they're loved.

-Connie is really protective of their friends, they don't have many so they Really don't wanna lose them.

-A relationship with them starts out with them more confused and incredulous than anything- 'Wait you're wanting to talk to me? Why??? uhm Okay?????? whatever dude go ahead I guess' But they'd catch an interest and start growing fond of the person over time

-Cas and Connie have made a name for themselves as online food critics, leaving really comprehensive reviews on all the places they've eaten at together. They also really love going to places that have those massive food challenges, they have yet to lose a single one

-Connie has a shrine in their room of all the knickknacks, pictures, and shirts they've won from every challenge. They also have before and after pictures of each meal.

-They have been kicked out of multiple establishments for eating too much, every all-you-can-eat buffet in their area has their picture up on the wall with 'BANNED' over them like a food service wanted poster

-Cas' Gems are some of the most sensitive parts of their body. The biggest gems being the most sensitive, only to touch though. She can't feel temperature through them but touch is amplified because they connect directly to his nervous system

-He doesn't wear scratchy or hard fabrics because of this, only soft or flowy fabrics over his arms or anywhere the gems would touch

-They don't let anyone touch the gems unless they trust them with their life since their life would literally be in the person's hands- the shards being a secondary life source to them

-They don't let people grab their arms when they don't have long sleeves on and don't even let anyone know about their biggest shards out of paranoia that anyone could betray them and use the knowledge of their weakest points against them. Those being the back of their neck (even small fractures cause paralysis due to location) and their Tongue (biggest shard- essentially their insta-kill button)

-The general pain scale goes as follows;

Touching- just a weird sensation, can overstimulate them if there's too much going on around beside the touching. Mainly paranoia that makes it unpleasant

Tapping- light pinch/the kind of sensation that makes you want to grit your teeth but isn't exactly Painful

Tapping with Nails/Claws/something hard- Harder pinch, instantly gritting teeth, is actually a bit painful and causes a slight ringing sensation. More pressure = more pain, could be ranked above Scratching if the person does it too hard or holds their nail down/prolongs it

Flicking- like when you pinch your hand in a door or something closes on you, a sharp pain that kind of leaves a ringing sensation pulsing through their body

Scratching- Sharp pain, feels the same as normal scratches just much worse

Blunt force- Painful, could crack the gem (even more painful) which would cause everything below it to go numb/limp

Pulling- Excruciating, Trying to pull the gem out would literally be them trying to pull out a part of their body. Like trying to pull teeth or nails- there are nerves attached that would be yanked with them.

-While they've definitely had partners over the years they've all been doomed from the start because Cas can't commit to mortals that'll die or leave her. But they leave because he doesn't commit to trusting them enough to let them touch the gems... Homie can't even make out with their S/Os without freaking out and backing down at the last minute. Or they leave because of the whole 'Sharing a body with a Demon' thing. It's a vicious cycle, a self fulfilling prophecy.

-On the last point I had a scenario/story/fake episode idea where Cas breaks up with their girlfriend -who she had been having boundary issues with- but had really wanted things to work out and tried making herself trust her. But then she pressed the tongue gem with her nail despite knowing that's the Worst One and It Hurt. So after pushing her off Cas breaks things off with her and kicks her out of her apartment. But the ex was toxic and started showing up to all their usual hangout spots and even their workplace all to make them out to be the bad guy. The plot of the episode is basically the gang get to know the ex- not knowing about the breakup or her connection to Cas- and it drives Cas to isolate from the mk crew. This leads to her spending time with the one person the ex literally Physically can not reach- Monkey King. So the two end up hunkering down in his shame temple and watching crap tv with a bunch of ben n jerry's and talking about all their shitty past relationships. Alcohol is Of Course involved on Cas’ end and they make horrible unholy ice cream booze creations- such as an alcoholic coke/rootbeer float for themself. Wukong hoards the ice cream after that lest they commit more food crimes with it. I just think it'd be funny to have them gossiping and lounging around the shame temple eating a shit ton of junk that shouldn't be humanly possible. The start of a beautiful friendship, finally an immortal that doesn't have beef with him! XD Of course at the end of the episode she'd learn she can trust her friends and talk to them about her problems instead of keeping them to herself and the toxic ex would probably end up with a restraining order or have crossed a line that causes Cas to reveal the whole Demon thing and scare her off. idk the important part was the booze and gossip with wukong- that was the entire reason i mentioned this

[dcvilbcy]

Lorcan didn't really feel like listening to the grim, foreboding words the old man was spouting about, but this was probably the furthest into a conversation with Barbossa that he'd ever get. Maybe Oberron would reward him somehow, maybe they'd become best buddies who shared their most intimate secrets. But the more likely outcome was that Barbossa would just brush him off the next time they made eye contact.

Still, it gave Lorcan some food for thought since he didn't often slow down to smell the roses. Or, well, smell the smoke of the dingy harbor. "Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine," He could relate to Hector's words though - there was absolutely no way Lorcan could've gotten more than a semester or two into community college, "I mean, what would I have even done with a math degree? Become a teacher? Like they'd ever take someone with my record anyways."

"Hey, you could always quit and come work for us," Lorcan held his beer up to the man in jest, maybe hoping to get a chuckle out of him, "Maybe Oberron will expand into a franchise ownership and we'll pick up and leave this town. You never know."

If he really thought about it, Hector could imagine how Lorcan joining up with Oberron might have gone. Young guy walks into the casino, sits at the table, and runs all the old gamblers out of their money. Seemed plausible. No wonder Snake Eyes decided to take advantage of his talents. Why risk losing money to players when you have a card counter at the table on your payroll? Made sense.

Barbossa was a drinker, but never a gambler. He'd never had the luck nor the skill for it. The lights and noise of Oberron's place were too much. Hector was built for the dreary, water-worn shadows of the Jolly Roger. The floors creaked under his workboots, and the old lightbulbs flickered when it stormed- welcoming him home after every long day at the docks.

"Fuck else am I gonna do?" The sideways look his shot Lorcan was every bit as patronizing as he could muster. "Missed my shot at college when I took over this job from my father. Worked here too long to do much of anything else." The kind of smarts he had weren't suited to normal jobs. Hector could get a boat to harbor on his lonesome, but he wouldn't be working in a hospital or on one of those computers anytime soon. "This town eats yer dreams til you got nothin' but reality."

[lyneira]

♡ may I have your attention, please? ♡

-> how the genshin men would try to impress you

They would try to impress you through..

Strength

Itto, Childe, Wriothesley

Would try to impress you with physical displays of strength and show his battle prowess. He'd do this because 1) he's a show-off (more so Itto and Childe), and 2) he would want to show how capable he is of defending you, and let you know that you won't have to worry about anything while he's around.

Maybe if you're also into fighting, he'll challenge you to a duel. It'd be his sneaky way of getting close and up front with you, hehe. You might even end up impressing him with your own skills 😌

(I see Itto and Childe being the type to try to flex at any given opportunity for you, intending that you'll drool over his muscles LMAO)

Being smooth with his words

Kaeya, Heizou, Lyney

Will try to fluster you and will do so using smooth lines. He'll take special note of what gets a smile out of you, a little laugh from you, and especially a blush from you. Thus, he'll attempt to initiate a conversation and form his words in ways that will have you doing all three the entire time. He hopes he can make you feel some type of way and let you know that YOU make HIM feel some type of way too ;)

Knowledge

Alhaitham, Zhongli, Neuvillette, Dainsleif, Ayato

Similar to the previous category, they'll try to capture your heart in conversation, but they wouldn't even intend to be impressive. They simply have pure interest in you and would love to stimulate both of your minds with a good conversation.

More importantly, he'd be able to gain more knowledge about you and, therefore, feel closer to you. He'd keep track of nearly every single thing you've said, so don't be surprised when he brings up that incredibly tiny detail you briefly mentioned in conversations before. It'll be proof of his attentiveness and deep focus on you because he's so down bad for you

After all, while he may be an expert on many subjects, the subject that he strives to become the greatest expert on is you.

Little gifts

Xiao, Scaramouche, Diluc, Gorou, Albedo

They'd prefer to show that you've caught their interest through little, thoughtful gifts. I see these guys as being a bit on the reserved and quiet side. So instead of using their words to display their affection for you, they'd much rather give you gifts, in hopes that you'll understand how much you mean to them.

Specifcally, for example, I see Albedo giving you pictures he drew of beautiful landscapes that you've both seen on walks together or maybe draw cute little creatures for you to play with

I see Xiao or Gorou giving you flowers that you've mentioned you loved. He just so happened to find them as he was out, scouting the area (he actually looked everywhere for them).

Scaramouche and Diluc would probably give you practical things that he also 'happened to find around'. "I heard you needed this", he'd mutter as he handed you a rare artifact or material that you had been looking for that could have only been found in the most dangerous areas.

And every one of them would absolutely melt inside each time they see your face light up with pure joy when you receive their gift. That expression would be the gift you gave them in return, which is why they ensured to keep giving you these tiny gifts

Jokes

CYNO

A special category for him because I JUST KNOW that he'd try to capture your heart through jokes. You know what they say: "Laughter is the best medicine" (and you're the medicine to his heart). Therefore, he'd spend all day just to come up with the best jokes he can. Although they might not always land, he'd be the happiest guy if he could still receive a small laugh or a smile from you for his efforts or for just how plain silly his joke was. (Please laugh at at least one of them, he's trying his best)

Song

Venti, Kazuha

Another special category for these two!

Venti would probably sing ballads for you to get your attention. He might even compose a ballad about you, and within it, he'd describe your traits with affection, and will subtly confess his own feelings within the lyrics.

Kazuha would play his little leaf flute for you. He'd play the most beautiful melodies he knew. He would try to play anything you liked and would basically be your own personal jukebox. If he didn't know a certain tune you wanted to hear, he'd be glad to learn it from you. Maybe you would hum the tune a bit, and he would try to match the pitches. I personally think he'd love doing making music with you, and the same would go for poems, too. He would adore creating haikus and poems with you, as well as creating them FOR you

Sharing passions

Thoma, Baizhu, Tighnari, Kaveh

If there was anything in common you two loved, he would invest in it for sure, knowing that it captivated both of you. It would be a fun and delightful way of getting to know one another better.

On the other hand, if you two didn't share a common interest, then there was no problem either. He would be delighted to learn more about yours. After all, he'd want to know what makes you happy, and hopefully become another source of happiness for you. And he would be over the moon for you if you asked him the same, asking him to teach you about what he loves. (Which means you have to teach him more about YOU)

He'd want to create a strong bond with you through this and hopes that it'll become something even more eventually.

a/n: apologies for the silly commentary throughout this. I was in a goofy mood while writing, teehee

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[pomefioredove]

So idk if I'm requesting in the right place. But I would love a twst scenario with a yuu that just says all their intrusive thoughts. Like just out of NOWHERE, as they reach for a water bottle hanging out with the first years they go.

“I robbed a house back home”

Or when Azul tries cornering them with the twins for something they just blankly turn to Floyd going.

“duck off you look like you can't steer a shopping cart”

But feel free to do it with whoever you want and if you don't want to do mine that's perfectly fine and I hope you have a great day :)

certainly!!

summary: reader who speaks all their impulsive thoughts type of post: headcanons characters: heartslabyul, octavinelle, scarabia, diasomnia additional info: platonic or romantic, reader isn't specified to be yuu, reader is gender neutral author's note: for some reason I had the hardest time thinking up new nonsense, so many of these dialogue lines are from lewis carroll poems, which I have a wonderful nostalgia for. check those out as well!

Ace and Deuce are pretty much used to you saying whatever's at the top of your mind... with no filter

so used to it that it barely even registers with them anymore

whenever it's quiet, they can expect you to come out with some incomprehensible nonsense.

if you didn't, they'd probably ask what's wrong

"I robbed a house back home,"

"Yeah, okay,"

Riddle, on the other hand, gets frustrated alarmingly fast

despite running an entire dorm based on nonsensical rules, he has a low tolerance for outside nonsense

and... well, despite his name, he's not really a fan of riddles

Trey matches your energy immediately

no joke. he doesn't even bat an eye

"I eat plastic,"

"hm. sometimes I eat muffin wrappers,"

honestly, sometimes his tangents get even weirder than yours

Cater probably wasn't listening very closely when you first started going off, or maybe he's just become accustomed to riddles, though the next time you say something he just thinks it's cute

might use your "thoughtful anecdotes" as a caption for his next post

would it be surprising if I were to say Azul is used to randomness?

Floyd has a tendency to say the strangest things out of nowhere, after all, and the sea itself can be a surprising place

he does not, however, appreciate how you keep speaking in tongues when he's trying to have serious business conversations with you

(seriously, how hard can it be to swindle one person?!)

"Please, just talk normally,"

"But the mome raths outgrabe!"

he doesn't know what that means, but it sounds like an insult

...and then will refuse to converse with you again until you're in a "better mood" (in his own words)

Jade, on the other hand, finds you quite fascinating

he keeps a little notepad on him just to jot down the things you say. why? you can't imagine. he just finds it interesting, you suppose

"'Twas brilling..."

"Really? How interesting. Go on,"

Floyd isn't really paying much attention

your funny words amuse him at best and annoy him at worse

if you ever find yourself in a bad place with the octotrio, you can just say something like:

"You look like you can't steer a shopping cart,"

and Floyd will take actual offense to that, and just straight up leave

(much to Azul's dismay)

Kalim adds on right away

and keeps going

and keeps going... and keeps going...

"How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail..."

"Oh, I know! He pours waters on every shining scale,"

at one point Jamil has to pull you aside and beg you not to encourage him

"No promises!" is your answer

Kalim even buys a parrot to add onto the fun

it becomes a three-person (or two-person-and-a-bird?) act

...even if you're not really doing it on purpose

Jamil is who ends up taking care of the parrot while it squawks your old nonsense thoughts, though

he likes the parrot much better than either of you

Malleus will entertain you based on his own curiosity

none of his other human classmates speak in such odd and puzzling words, so he knows it's a "you" thing

might try to solve them if they sound like riddles

but he mostly just thinks they're cute

"O, oysters, come and walk with us,"

"How interesting... I do wonder where you come up with all this,"

Sebek will listen to you because Malleus does, and Silver has enough nonsense to deal with as it is. will definitely fall asleep while you're talking to him

Lilia responds in like terms

meow at him? he'll meow back

in fact, he'll meow at you every time he sees you until you say something else to capture his curiosity

might go ahead and start speaking to you in tongues before you even say anything

he just thinks you're neat!

[thelostconsultant]

Midnight rain

pairing: Lando Norris x reader

summary: Lando wanted a family, but you weren’t ready. Three months after your breakup, he's still in love with you, and now it's your turn to decide whether or not to give him a second chance.

“You’re exhausting,” you groaned into the phone.

It was well into the morning when Lando’s name flashed on your screen, which wouldn’t have been so surprising if you were in the same time zone. But you were in Singapore, six hours ahead of Belgium, which meant it was around three in the morning over there. When he spoke, his speech was slurred, he was obviously struggling to form coherent sentences, but he sounded hell-bent on talking to you right now.

Since you were almost at the stadium for rehearsal before tonight's concert, you didn't feel like keeping up the conversation, but the way his voice broke made you listen. You knew he hadn't been in the best state of mind since the breakup, but the fact he still felt so miserable made you sad.

“We would have beautiful babies, you and me. Why don't you want to see them? A mini you, or a mini me, maybe a mini mix of us… So cute,” he said, at least that’s what you managed to understand from his mess of a speech.

And he giggled. You could imagine him lying on his back, one hand holding the phone while the other hugged a pillow to his chest. Rolling your eyes, you thought about what to say to this. It was always the same story, he would call you, tell you how much he missed you, how much he loved you, how he wished you would marry him, and how much he wanted to have a child with you.

The same things that made you break up with him in the first place. He told you about his vision; a big wedding somewhere remote, then the two of you would travel together, preferably with you coming to his races as a good luck charm, and soon you would welcome your first child who would be spoiled rotten.

That's not what you wanted. You wanted to focus on your career, you wanted to go on tours, you wanted to make more albums, you wanted to do so much before becoming a wife and a mother. Lando didn't seem to understand this, he kept telling you it would be okay, that there were many singers who could return to where they'd been before, but you didn't buy it.

“Go to sleep, Lando,” you told him calmly, hoping that gentle parenting would work.

“No, I won't sleep until you're back to me. I'll stay awake and–Don’t touch my phone, Osc!” he protested suddenly.

You heard some bickering in the background, which was followed by a long sigh. “Hey, it's Oscar. I'm sorry, we stayed with him and have been trying to keep him from calling you, but he somehow snatched his phone back from Max. You okay?”

At least he was in good hands and under supervision. “Yeah, sure, thanks for staying with him. Good race for you two by the way,” you said with a smile.

“You watched it?”

“Well, I checked the results and saw the highlights.”

There was a short break which made you wonder if he was still there, but then he spoke up again. “Listen, I don’t want to be involved in this, but I’m worried about Lando. You broke up three months ago and he’s still a mess. I get it, you don’t want marriage and kids yet, but maybe he would understand your reasons and agree to wait if you just sat down to discuss it.” You didn’t know what to say to that, but apparently Oscar was also a bit hesitant. “Do you still love him?”

“I don’t know if it’s love, but I care about him. We were together for over three years, it’s not gonna disappear from my life in a blink of an eye,” you explained. “But… I don’t know, I’m just afraid he would be back at it in a matter of weeks, once again trying to convince me to start a family with him.”

“And if we talked to him when he was sober? If we made sure he understands what you’ve been trying to tell him? Would you give him another chance?”

You took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Would you? Would it be worth it? You were on tour right now, but after the next four concerts you would end the Asian leg and have a few weeks for yourself. You would have time to figure things out. “I would talk to him, and maybe I would be willing to try again. Once last time. The moment he’s back on his bullshit, I’m going to leave him for good,” you added.

You could hear the soft laugh from Oscar’s side, and you could see him glancing down at his teammate with a smile. “I’m sure he would like it. I’m not sure how long he’ll be knocked out once we convince him to sleep, but I’ll tell him to call you at a reasonable time when he’s finally sober again, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks for everything.”

He said goodbye and left you with your thoughts, wondering if you made the right call. Maybe there was a part of you that wanted to be with him, because the years you spent together meant a lot to you. He was one of the kindest people you’ve ever met, a ray of sunshine, really, in stark contrast with your sometimes gloomy personality.

But who knew, maybe his friends can talk some sense into him.

Lando knew he only had one chance at this. All his friends were very clear about this, Oscar especially, since he had been the one to talk to you. During that one phone call a week ago, you agreed to come to him in Monaco, visiting his apartment so you wouldn’t have this conversation at a public place. It was something between the two of you, there was no need for strangers hearing even snippets of it.

When you arrived and his eyes fell on you again, every single thought left his brain. He was just standing there in the door, utterly speechless, surprised that he didn’t start drooling at the sight. After all those months spent looking at photos of you at your concerts, seeming like you had the time of your life on the stage, it was so nice to see this you, the one without the sparkling dresses, the down-to-earth girl he loved so much it hurt.

“Can I come in?” you asked him hesitantly.

He blinked a few times before realizing he had been staring for a little too long. “Sure, sure, come in,” he said as he stepped out of the way. “Can I bring you anything?”

Shaking your head, you sat on the couch and patted the empty space next to you. Like a well-trained puppy, Lando sat down and turned to look at you, taking in every little detail as if this was the last time he saw you. Because maybe this was the last time, maybe you would end the conversation with the decision that this relationship couldn’t be revived.

After several painfully silent minutes later, you finally stopped fidgeting with your ring and let out a long sigh. “I don’t want to start a family yet, at least not the way you want it. Marriage is one thing, but… You expected me to spend my time following you around. I have my own career to nurture, Lan, you need to understand that. Sure, one day I’ll be ready for it, but not yet,” you explained kindly, your eyes examining his face for a reaction.

But Lando knew better than to let his disappointment be visible, he fought hard to keep it away from you. So, when he spoke up, his voice was also kept neutral. “But you wouldn’t be against it one day, right? Starting a family with me, I mean,” he said, deep down hoping there would be a dazzling smile on your face as you replied.

You smiled, but it was more of a polite, maybe little uncertain smile. “Yeah, one day, although I can’t tell you when, I can’t give you a deadline. Maybe in our early thirties, maybe sooner. You would have to wait and see. Do you think you can do that?”

He couldn’t hold back a sad laugh, mostly because you didn’t really give him the choice to negotiate. You told him what you had to offer, and it was a take it or leave it situation. And he wanted you back in his life, he wanted to be by your side every step of the way, he wanted to be your biggest fan, and he needed you to support him. “I can. For you,” he added seriously as he reached out to take your hand.

[reiderwriter]

I’ve watching the episode where Reid kisses the actress. Could you write a fic where the reader is in the BAU and is best friends with Reid but has a secret crush on Reid which is obvious to everyone on the team but Reid and she is so jealous of the actress and the teams teases her about it?

A/N: Hello! Thanks for the request, I hope you enjoy it~♡

Warnings: none, hints of bi-reader, but like...come on.

Masterlist

Your “too obvious, plain as day, nearly embarrassing” schoolgirl crush on Spencer Reid was taking too long to fizzle out naturally. 

When you'd met the man, and your heart fluttered, you knew you'd have to go through the motions: you'd hope, grow fonder of the man, dream about him, then cringe, get ick, and ultimately you'd achieve the ultimate crush death. 

You were stuck somewhere between hope and dream, still, and had taken a wrong turn somewhere leading to nearly Hozier-levels of desperate longing. 

5 months assisting the BAU as a press liaison, working as JJ's assistant on more public facing cases had landed you here. 

And what better case for you to spread your wings on than one in Los Angeles itself, starring the famous Lila Archer. 

When Gideon and Reid had called the case in, you'd been eager not to seem too eager. You'd never been out of Quantico on a case before, usually shacking up in an office to shout down phone lines as reporters on the press room floor telling them they were scum of the earth for sensationalizing murder. JJ had obviously taught you to have a more nuanced conversation that that, but your inner thoughts were still allowed. 

But LA was a different kettle of fish, and Hotch appreciated that. It didn't quite help that you visibly perked up when you heard Reid himself had a hand in calling it into the team. A high-school classmate and a jet ride later, you were excited and ready to greet Spencer Reid. And Lila Archer. 

She was so pretty it was intimidating to even breathe the same air as her, a magnetism that drew everyone in the room closer to her just as Spencer drew you towards him. 

You tried not to see the obvious attraction the two had to each other, but the bile rose in your throat every time you thought about the case. The sour twinge of jealousy became a constant on the case, as your efforts to save Lila from her stalker also pushed her closer and closer to Spencer. 

And that wasn't even accounting for the fact that you'd suddenly become tongue-tied around them.

Spencer had asked you multiple times how you were enjoying your first time out in the field, and the most you could muster was a nod and a stammered “it's been good, I guess.”

With Lila, it was worse. You couldn't even tell her your name, and had overheard her politely asking Reid for it a few times every time you'd dropped coffee off in their vicinity. 

Your school girl crush was hitting the first heartbreak road bump at full speed, and dear god, you were not ready for the car crash. 

You tried to psych yourself out of it, to clear your mind and remain professional, but one tabloid cover after wrapping the case ended that for you completely. 

“Whooo, Spencer, my man! I knew you were a pretty boy, I didn't know you had game like that!” 

The tabloid had been dropped on his desk by Derek loudly and had quickly drawn a crowd when they'd seen the resulting red flush from the man of the hour. 

He'd snatched up the gossip rag pretty quickly, but not before you'd gotten a glimpse of the cover. You recognised Lila’s pool, then Lila herself, then the man she was passionately making out with as you felt your heart crack in two. 

You'd stuck like a fly on the wall and quietly joined in the teasing as you swallowed all of your ugly emotions at once. 

“And in the pool, too, Spencer, that's crazy. Look at Y/N. She can't believe it herself!” You forced a small giggle past your lips and hoped the others couldn't tell how fake it was. You stuck out a few more minutes of conversation before nearly running back to JJ's, thankfully empty office. 

The tears were silent. 

You berated yourself for even letting them fall. An unrequited love wasn't the end of the world - especially considering you had to work with Reid, see him every day. 

It took you months to get over it. Not that you ever fully managed it.

You simply told yourself that you'd never felt that way in the first place, gaslighting yourself into believing there was no feelings and thus no heartbreak. 

After a month of haunting the office with your general gloom, you got into the flow of it and truly convinced yourself you were over it. 

And you were until everyone started talking about it all over again. 

“Spencer, I heard your lady friend is going to be in a real blockbuster soon. Congrats!” Morgan clapped the man on the shoulder as he walked past, discarding his coat at his desk as he arrived for work. 

You gripped your coffee mug slightly tighter as you wished the conversation would blow over. 

“Reid has a lady friend? Oh, please do not spare the details,” Emily jumped in, eager to integrate herself into the team now that she was in it. 

“You know that actress, Lila Archer? We babysat her on a case a couple of months back, and she took quite the liking to our little genius-” 

“Morgan, stop-” Reid groaned, flushing yet again at the mention of the whole scenario. 

“Okay, I'll back off,” the older man said quickly. “If you can tell me honestly, you don't still have that tabloid cover in the second draw of your desk.”

You tried to stand and walk away from the conversation without drawing any attention to yourself, but the tension in your body left you stiff and less than graceful. You tripped on the corner of your desk on your way out but didn't pause to even listen to the others' call after you in your haste to clear the venom burning in your throat. 

You were fine and happy to ignore your emotions, but you realized then that kind of tactics would only work if everybody else managed to avoid them, too. 

You calmed your pace to a wall and took a series of deep breaths, trying to rationalize your departure to yourself. 

“I'm busy. There's some files I need to pull anyway, so I'm just going to file storage. That's why I left my desk. That's all, I'm fine.” 

Your small pep talk didn't rewrite history, though, and you still felt a cloud of envy following you around.

He kept her picture. In his drawer. 

Truth be told, you weren't expecting it to hurt this bad. 

You heard footsteps come up behind you, so you quickly ducked into the empty elevator, not quite ready to face anyone yet. A hand caught it just as you were about to be left alone, though, and Spencer joined you in the elevator. 

You weren't exactly shocked to see him. He'd been just as uncomfortable with the topic of conversation as you had, if not more so. You just wished you hadn't been in the same place now. 

“Sorry, I need some files.” 

Great, you were going to the same place as well. You just nodded slightly and gave him a tight-lipped smile as you travelled down to the place you'd both chosen as an escape. 

“Back there, you left…” Spencer started, fidgeting awkwardly next to you in the elevator.

“You left pretty abruptly.”

“I remembered I needed some files.’

“Right, right…”

The silence that stretched between you was thick and suffocating, and you begged the elevator to move faster. 

“I don't, by the way.” He spoke up again, awkwardly clearing his throat before continuing. “I don't still have that tabloid. There is a picture in that drawer, but it's not…that one.” 

“A different picture of Lila, then?’ You tried to keep your tone light, but even while trying your hardest, you couldn't keep the bitterness out of your tone.

The elevator reached its destination, but you both held back for a few seconds, and neither of you was quite sure what to say anymore. 

“She kissed me, you know.” Spencer said, facing you now, pinning you in place with his attention. 

“Yes, Spencer. Well aware, I saw the photo, too.” 

“No.. no, I mean, she kissed me.” 

“Loud…loud and clear,” you said, raking a hand through your hair as you tried to drown out all of the noise. 

“Y/N, I don't think you're hearing me.” 

“Oh, and I should be paying attention to you recounting the time an actress decided you were worthy of your time and tried to mount you in a swimming pool? I need to hear about how her tongue felt being pushed down your throat?” 

The words jumped out of you, and you had no way to stop them once they started. Instead, you simply shoulder checked your way out of the still elevator and marched your way to the file room. 

“Y/N, I'm sorry, please just hear me out,” you heard Spencer calling out to you, but you didn't stop or turn around. 

“Y/N, I'm trying to explain, please just-” You heard him groan in frustration as you kept up your pace and felt slightly satisfied that he was having such a hard time. A solid hand on your wrist pulling you back wiped any smile you had on your face clean off, especially as you were pulled into a somewhat solid chest and a hand tipped your head up to meet his own. 

To say you hadn't imagined the moment that Spencer Reid kissed you for the first time would be a lie. You thought it would be sweet and small, an awkward peck if nothing else that led to giggles and more innocent chaste kisses and possibly an illusive hug. 

Instead, you were pushed back against the nearest wall, pinned up by your wrists, and robbed of all of your breath as Spencer kissed you until you were seconds from passing out. 

Even after you both came up from air, he released your wrists so he could angle your head back up to him, allowing him to deepen the kiss the second time around. 

Stunned was not the word. 

And though you were completely taken unaware by the kiss, that didn't mean you weren't eagerly reciprocating. 

You kept your wits about you as his tongue parted your lips, leaning into him as you savored the moment. 

It didn't stop the confusion after you finally broke apart, though. 

“What…the…fuck, Spencer?” You said between gasps, chest heaving. He let your wrists go awkwardly, hands trailing down to your waist as you rested yours on his shoulders.

“You weren't…listening. Needed a different strategy.” 

“Well, I'm all ears now.” 

He nodded and then took another moment to catch his breath before relinquishing you from his hold and putting a bit of space between you. 

“I didn't kiss Lila Archer. I didn't particularly want..to?” He cleared his throat and continued. 

“She kinda just grabbed me? And did it? There was a pool too, so I was trying not to choke on water and chlorine and hair everywhere. Like, she just grabbed me-” 

“Like you just did?” 

“Like I just… did, yeah, like that.” 

You weren't sure what to do or say anymore. So you just nodded and stood there, and so did he. 

“That's not to say that I didn't enjoy this kiss. It wasn't just to illustrate the point. It kind of was, in the sense that it helped you understand what happened before, and that I hope it will help you realize the point of this conversation-” 

“Which is?” 

“I like you.” He said, finally pausing his rambling to look you in the eyes. 

“I like you, and I didn't want you to misunderstand.” 

“Oh. Oh right.” 

You both stood there looking at each other and looking away in a loop, neither talking or breaking the silence until you both tried to. 

“What about y-” 

“Kiss me again.” 

Reid blinked at you a few more times, trying to work through your words. 

“Kiss me again” you repeated, stepping away from the wall and closer to Reid as he still just stared at you. 

“We're still working, what if someone walks past?” 

“Didn't stop you the first time.”

“But-”

You cut him off quickly, grabbing his tie and pulling him down to your level, locking lips with him again. 

When you again came up for breath, possibly much longer after the time a second kiss should last, both of you just laughed again. 

“I was jealous.” You said, looking up at him, ready to bare yourself to him now that he'd given a confession of his own. “Of Lila. Of you for being adored like that by someone so cool. But mostly of Lila.”

“Because?” 

“Because I like you, too,” you said, rolling your eyes at him. 

“Nice. Cool, that's great. I like that you like me, too. I like you, hey, I like us,” you cut off his rambling quickly with another small kiss and pulled away.

“So the picture?" You asked, backing away down the hall as he stood and watched you.

"Hmm?"

"The one in your desk."

"Oh," he said, scratching the back of his neck as the tips of his ears turned bright pink.

"Penelope gave me this picture from the Christmas party. It's, uh, me and you."

You smiled brightly before turning to leave, the bile of jealousy that had been consuming you turned magically to butterflies in the space of two kisses.

[swiftdove]

bleeding crimson

pairing: rio vidal x agatha harkness x fem!reader

summary: no matter how much you try to run from the truth, the road leads you back onto the path, forcing you to confront the thorns from your past.

content: angst, tension, knife-play, dark actions, slight smut

a/n: this is my first time ever writing a part 2 i feel like this is a very monumental moment for me

part 2 to collateral damage

Later that night, you had found yourself leaning against the trunk of the tree, willing yourself to sleep. Yet, despite your best efforts, the earlier conversations seeped into your mind, forcing out any rational thought. 

It wasn't right, how easily they managed to pull you back under their spell. They knew exactly which buttons to push to get what they wanted, whilst your skills had rusted over time. The way they treated you; it was as though they'd never left. It was almost comical, how little they'd suffered over their abandonment of you, how they expected everything to be the same as it was. You knew they were wicked, downright evil, but you hadn't expected them to be this selfish. Your sympathy for them was fading, as was your will to fight against their seductive charm. There must've been something grievously wrong about you to have even looked their way. Perhaps it was the mutual damage, the way you all understood each other so perfectly. Perhaps it was that that let you excuse their past actions. The idea that maybe, just maybe, you could fix them.

You had snapped right out of that attitude when you had seen Agatha act so apathetically about Sharon's death. It may have been the one thing that could have finally let you move past her. But earlier today, when she had tried so desperately to save Teen, redeemed her. You hated that about her - the way she flickered from evil to morally gray. 

And Rio, who balanced out Agatha's wickedness. You felt it, how her eyes always lingered on you. But never for longer than she did with Agatha. 

The reasons against them were stacked, and yet there was still that one part of you that wondered about what a reconciled relationship with them would entail. Most likely more damage to your already fragile mind. Then again, you'd always found that pain turned you on.

The sound of footsteps jolted you out of your train of thought, immediately waking you up from your half-asleep state. 

"Who's there?" you called, failing to mask the fear in your voice.

"Your worst nightmare," a demonic voice resounded, which you instantly recognized to be one of Rio's attempts to humour you.

The witch came into sight, accompanied by the last person you wanted to see right now.

Despite your pronounced hate for them, you couldn't deny that they looked perfect - especially under the glow of the moonlight. 

"What are you doing here?" you murmured, smoothing out a wrinkle in your blouse. 

"Couldn't sleep," Rio replied truthfully, eyeing you up and down. Her gaze finally rested on your hands, where you were nervously playing with your index ring, a habit you'd picked up years ago when she'd first bought it for you. 

However, your attention was directed at Agatha, who had adopted a villainous smirk. Something had changed in her tonight; behind her icy blue eyes hid macabre intentions. It was almost comedic how you still felt like you knew every serrated, damaged inch of her soul. Old habits died hard, you supposed.

"What is it, Agatha?" you asked, failing to hide the tremble in your voice. 

"Oh, nothing," she replied, her tone lilted, "it's just ironic, I suppose. All that 'I'm not yours' bullshit and defiant attitude..."

You tensed as she neared you, noticing the way her eyes glinted at your recoiled stance. In a split second, her fingers wrapped around your throat, trapping you in a chokehold.

"... when we both know why you came."

Her grip tightened, her veins becoming more defined as your breathing shallowed.

"Agatha," Rio admonished, prompting her to relax her grip. 

A soft cackle rang through the air as Agatha stroked your cheek with her free hand, reveling in the way you trembled under her touch.

Flashbacks of the life you'd had with them echoed in your mind, memories of your past encounters hammering at the walls of your skull. It was always the same. Agatha, skillfully inflicting the sweetest torture imaginable on your body, whilst Rio sat back and watched. The mocking, saccharine tone Agatha adopted whilst Rio carved their names into your flesh. The way they forced you past your limits, the long, euphoric nights. 

"So helpless," she jested, dragging out her words. "Now, where have I seen that before?"

Your reply was barely audible, interrupted by a hitch in your breath. "Stop."

Ignoring your plea for mercy, she pulled up your sleeve, releasing her grip on your throat. The faint outline of the words 'RIO' and 'AGATHA' were only just visible, having faded after decades of neglect. Agatha swiveled around, jerking your arm out for Rio to see.

"Would you look at that?" Rio marveled. She tutted softly, before brandishing her dagger. A sadistic smile tugged at her lips as she held it to your throat. You flinched away from the cold metal, beads of red decorating the blade. Your attempts to run away from the dagger were foiled when she swiveled you around and secured you waist with her free hand, the other keeping you in place.

"You were so jealous of Rio earlier, weren't you, pet?" Agatha taunted, relishing in the way your eyes narrowed at the use of her pet name. "You wanted me to leave a scar, didn't you?"

If you hadn't had a blade pressed against your throat, you would have called her out for twisting your words. But, in this instance, you couldn't help but shrink back from their towering presences.

Snorting at your silence, she continued with her onslaught of cruel jokes. "Why so silent? Cat got your tongue?"

"There's a blade to my throat, if you haven't noticed," you snapped, causing Rio to add pressure to your skin.

"There's that nasty attitude again," Agatha proclaimed gleefully, circling around you. "How long has it been since you've been properly punished, sweets?"

You recoiled at her use of the word 'punished', your gaze steeling. "Stop," you murmured, failing to mask the quiver in your voice. "I'm not going to indulge in your sick revenge fantasy."

"Aren't you?"

Rio's voice cut through the tension in the air like a knife through butter, her fingernails digging into the side of your waist. Agatha smirked maliciously, tilting your chin up with her calloused fingers. 

"I don't think you have much of a choice, pet."

Satisfied with your silence as a response, she trailed her fingers down to your blouse, roughly unbuttoning it. She pinched at the peak of your breast, relishing in how it hardened at her touch.

"So sensitive," Agatha murmured, twisting it sharply. A small yelp escaped your lips, reprimanded by a sharp cut to the throat. Hot blood trickled down the wound, staining the witch's fingers.

"Agatha -" you gasped, only to be cut off by the sound of Lilia's voice echoing down The Road.

"They're coming. We have to go."

Glancing at the direction of the voice, Agatha withdrew her hand, causing you to sigh in relief. The sound didn't go unnoticed by the witches. Visibly annoyed, Agatha grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at her.

"This isn't over," she threatened, before dramatically whisking her cape and walking away. Rio followed, but not before dragging her dagger over your throat again. When you didn't budge, she looked over her shoulder, glancing at you expectantly.

"Come on," she said, taking ahold of your arm. "We have to go."

As you trailed behind the witches, the warm, crimson blood trickled down the small wound in your throat, bleeding into the collar of your shirt. To anybody else, it would've just seemed like a simple cut, but you knew what it truly was. A symbol, of their claim over you. Hard, cold proof that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't escape their hold over you. And for some strange, demented reason, you found comfort in knowing that. 

The dynamic between you and them remained ever the same. Agatha and Rio, your sacred protectors, and you, a wolf in the clothing of a sacrificial lamb. And despite your pathetic attempts to hide it, you knew that they understood exactly who you were to the very marrow of your bones. 

That was what scared you about them.

[beloveds-embrace]

hi, this idea kind of comforts me but it makes you feel uncomfy just ignore this request.

but since you do poly 141, I was thinking of a fic where reader comes from a bad abusive family but she doesn't talk about it and thinks it's normal. and the 141 tries to get angry/frustrated with her because they are concerned for the fact she is fine with people treating her badly or not prioritising herself they come to realise it's just how she thinks. and they remind her that she now doesn't have to survive and fade into a background or is a burden and that she can live and be happy.

i know it sounds complicated and specific but I kinda have this really serene picture in my head that if that happens everything will fine AHAHA idk. but again if this idea doesn't correspond with your writing or feeling or comfortability please just ignore this. apologies if it made you feel uncomfortable.

hope you have/had a nice day or night!!♡♡

I hope you have a nice day/night as well!! And i hope you enjoy this! CW: past abuse, past emotional abuse and neglect

You met them first through a mutual friend, an unplanned introduction that turned into something you hadn’t quite expected: a tentative relationship, but one that had happiness blooming like the flowers and greenery you tend to. It was unconventional- a group of elite soldiers who spent most of their time between missions scattered across the world and a civilian- but when they returned, it felt like they brought your home with them.

You still didn’t understand why they liked having you around. You were just a florist who helped them with decorating their new house, or who listened when they needed a friendly ear. You didn’t ask for anything, and they were kind enough not to question it even if you'd seen their displeased little frowns and furrowed brows whenever you'd refuse.

But recently, you noticed them getting… concerned.

It was Soap who brought it up first, his frustration seeping into his usual easy smile.

It happened after you’d offered to run a series of errands, insisting they rest after a mission. As always, you tried to downplay your exhaustion, helping them settle in their home, making sure everything was clean and in order for them before you even considered sitting down.

Soap watched with a frown, noticing how you brushed off the heaviness in your movements and the bags under your eyes, doing your best to tend to them, such a sweet thing. But after you finished, he gently grabbed your arm.

“Dove, why do you do this?” he asked, voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

“Do what?” you replied, a little too quickly, trying to pull your arm back almost instinctively. Almost like a habit.

“Act like you don’t need anything. You haven’t even eaten today, and you’re lookin’ after us like we’re helpless. What about you, aye?”

You stared at him, unsure of what to say. You didn’t know how to explain that putting yourself last was just what you did. That it felt right, somehow, to stay in the background, to make sure everyone else was fine before even thinking about yourself. It was normal, no? It was how you were raised, and your parents only ever insisted that discipline was needed.

“Just… used to it, I guess?” you finally mumbled.

Soap’s brows drew together, but before he could say more, Gaz stepped in, giving you a gentle, worried look. So Johnny... wasn't the only one who thought so?

“It’s not right,” Gaz said, frustration simmering in his tone. “You’re allowed to put yourself first, you know?”

You shrugged, glancing away. Allowed. You hadn’t thought of it that way.

Price was the next to notice it, his observant eyes always catching the little things: how you’d flinch ever so slightly when they raised their voices, the way you stayed at the edges of conversations, nodding along but rarely chiming in. It had been the same when they'd met you, but he had assumed- hoped- it was merely you being naturally shy.

But this clearly went beyond that.

One night, as you were tidying up after dinner, John approached you, folding his arms across his chest. He stands close, but not too close.

“Why don’t you sit with us, love? Someone else can do the dishes. You barely let us help you cook or set the table either.” He says, his voice gentle, but with a hint of a command.

“I’m fine, John. I really don't mind.” You answered quickly, quietly. You couldn’t meet his eyes, a reflex you’d developed over years of keeping your head down.

He tilted his head, as if trying to see past the answer you’d given him. “No, my love,” he said softly, but with a firmness that made you pause. “I think you’re used to telling yourself that, but I don’t think you believe it.”

You froze, unsure how to respond, feeling something painful stir in your chest. The idea of asking for anything, for taking up space- of needing more than what little you had- seemed wrong. Like wanting was a burden in itself. But it is. It's what you've learnt and been taught.

John sighed, his eyes warm but sad. His hands raised to cup you face slowly, gently. “You’re not a burden, you know that, right?”

You gave him a small, shaky smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah.”

The next time, it was Ghost.

He was usually silent, lurking in the shadows, watching with that keen, unreadable gaze that only ever softened for you and them. But one evening, as you were dropping off supplies at their base, Ghost noticed you hurrying off after you’d finished. He easily caught up with you just outside, his hand gentle as it grasped your shoulder.

(Yet it still had you flinching.)

“You don’t have to go, birdie.” He murmured, voice soft but clear. You met his gaze, startled by the gentle concern in his eyes.

“You… don’t mind?” you asked, trying not to look too hopeful. You always worried your company might be too boring, unproductive. Unwanted.

Ghost shook his head. “If anything, we mind when you don’t stay,” he scoffed quietly. Then he sighs. “We’re worried, you know. About how you treat yourself, luvie. Like you don’t deserve anything more than the bare minimum.”

You swallowed hard, his words hitting deeper than you’d care to admit. He waited, patient, a pillar of quiet understanding.

“I just… it’s what I know,” you finally whispered, unable to look at him. “Growing up, I was never… important. And I don't have to be! I'm not demanding it, I promise-”

He was silent for a moment, and then he took in a deep breath that cuts your frantic mumbles off, as if finally understanding something he’d long suspected. “Well,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “you’re with us now, birde. You are important.”

Something warm spread in your chest, something unfamiliar yet comforting. You managed a nod, finding a small sliver of strength in his words, and a little smile forms on your face- leaning into Ghost's knuckles so lightly caressing your cheek.

After those days, things began to change more and more. For the better.

Kyle would check in with you every day, insisting you take breaks with him, sharing laughs over simple things. Soap began inviting you to meals, not taking no for an answer, piling food on your plate until you couldn’t help but indulge. Those two especially adored taking you out to sample new cuisines, delighting in getting you to be more open with your expressions and reactions.

John and Simon would go on walks with you, listening to the little stories you’d been hesitant to share, showing you that your presence mattered to them as much as theirs did to you. And slowly, day by day, they chipped away at the walls you’d built around yourself. Showed you that what your family raised to be wasn't right, was cruel to you.

One evening, as you sat on the couch in the common room, leaning against Johnny's shoulder, Kyle leaned over, a gentle smile on his face.

“You know, love, you don’t have to survive anymore,” he said softly, meeting your gaze with a warmth that made your heart ache. “We want you here because you make us happy. Just as you are.”

The words felt foreign, but you let them settle over you, warm and safe. Kyle gave your hand a gentle squeeze, reassuring, a silent reminder that you didn’t need to hide.

“We’re here to take care of each other,” Soap murmured, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, “and that means you too, aye?”

You gave them a tentative smile, feeling that familiar ache soften just a little.

Simon, sitting nearby, nodded in silent agreement, and John leaned back in his chair, giving you a small, proud smile. “You’re one of us, love,” John said quietly, his voice steady. “And as long as you’re here, you’re part of this family. We won't just let you fade into the background. That isn't fair to a dove like you.”

And looking at them now, at the love and gentleness they held for you, it wasn't hard to believe their words.

Maybe, just maybe, you’d finally found a place where you belonged.

[loulovingho]

Prompt: Everyone knows that Tommy is a pushover for Buck's 🥺 eyes (it's a running joke for the 118/217), but when Tommy gets upset and is very quietly 🥺, Buck is shocked by how completely and utterly insane he goes to make Tommy feel better.

(bonus points if it's a completely dumb reason, like Tommy's run out of ice cream or something and it's just A Bad Day)

A little silly, a little serious, I hope you enjoy!

One of the many things Buck loved about his and Tommy's relationship is that he got to see a side of Tommy that no one else saw. He got to see many sides of Tommy that no one else saw, actually.

While everyone got a piece of calm, cool, and collected Thomas Kinard, Buck got all that and everything in between.

He saw him on his best days, his worst days, goofy days, sick days, horny days, tired days, all the days! He often thought of making a list of all the things people would be surprised to know about Tommy. He'd never share it, of course, but it'd be nice for him to have.

Like, how Tommy was ticklish only on his right side. And when he got tickled, he didn't do his normal laugh. Instead it was a high pitched giggle with a snort.

Or, how Tommy was super proud of the fact he knew every single word to We Didn't Start the Fire and he felt the need to sing it at the top of his lungs at least once a week.

How he loved human connection, but hated being touched by strangers. He'd hug a friend all night long if you needed it, but if he didn't know you please keep your hands to yourself.

How he liked tomatoes on cold sandwiches, but never on toasted ones.

How he loved when Buck would sit on the countertop and kiss him because it made him feel smaller, and he loved feeling small and protected in Evan's arms.

How his voice got deeper during sex. Whether he was inside Buck or Buck was inside him, his voice would always get all gravely and deep in a way that sent shivers down Buck's spine.

Maybe one of the biggest ones was how Tommy was not always the stoic, perfectly poised man as he presented himself to the world.

Tommy could get emotional. Emotional in a way that was usually reserved for movies written by men about women during their period.

Buck was thrown off by it the first time it happened. He almost thought it was a joke, until he saw the tears in Tommy's eyes as he mourned the fact he was out of whipped cream.

Then it was just heartbreaking.

It didn't happen often. A series of bad events throughout the day would build up in his body and brain until the smallest inconvenience caused him to fall apart.

They'd talked about it before. Tommy had grown up having to hold in his thoughts and feelings. They'd build and build until he'd do something erratic or harmful. Then he joined the army, and those emotions would build up the same way. Being in the army itself was a bit erratic and harmful, so he didn't have the best coping skills.

It wasn't until he started therapy, and his therapist helped him realize that he needed to let himself feel whatever he was feeling that he slowly and gradually became better at opening up.

However, there were still days where he felt the need to let everything build. Build and build until he burst. Except, now days, instead of becoming erratic or harmful, his eyes would well up and his lip would come out in a pout, and Buck would feel the need to move heaven and earth to make it all better.

Buck knew something was off as soon as he got home from work. Tommy was already there in the garage, half bent over his truck as he worked on the engine.

Buck let out a whistle. “What a view,” he teased.

Tommy glanced back at him, gave him a half smile before focusing back on his truck. “Hey, Baby. I ordered dinner. Should be in before it gets here.”

To anyone else, that might seem like a regular conversation. To Buck, it was the exact opposite. Normal Tommy would make some teasing comment right back, letting Buck know what he was seeing was just a preview of what was to come.

This... This was the start of an emotional night.

*****

Dinner was fairly quiet, with Buck leading most of the conversation. He knew not to ask questions yet. If he did it too soon, Tommy would completely shut down and it would take even longer to get any information out of him. As much as Buck hated it, this had to play out a certain way.

Luckily, he was fluent in Tommy.

It was a little after dinner, once Buck had settled in the living room, that it began.

“Evan?” Tommy called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“Is... Did you put my ice cream in a different spot?”

“No, it's-” Buck froze, thinking back to two nights ago. Jee had come over and wanted a treat. She ended up eating the last of Tommy's favorite birthday cake ice cream. He knew that, on a regular day, Tommy wouldn't care that it was gone.

He also knew today wasn't a regular day.

“I think it's all gone, Babe,” he said cautiously as he got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen.

“Oh. Okay.”

He wasn't angry. He never got angry over little things like that.

He was sad. Resigned to the fact he would not be getting any of his favorite ice cream tonight.

Buck often felt like it'd be a lot easier if he just got angry.

He made it into the kitchen just as Tommy closed the freezer door. His face downcast, he glanced up at Buck through his eyelashes, eyes wide and wet. His bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly before he turned away from Buck and headed for the pantry.

“I'll have cookies instead,” he said with a sniff.

Buck got out his phone and pressed a few buttons before stuffing it back into his pocket and walking over to Tommy.

“Honey, why don't we just go sit down for a minute?”

“I just...” His shoulders sagged. “I really don't want cookies.”

Gently, Buck placed his hands on Tommy's back, nudging him until he could lead him toward the living room. “Why don't we go sit on the couch, okay?”

Tommy simply nodded, but Buck could see him lift a hand to his face and wipe a tear off his cheek.

The thing was, Buck knew he could be a handful sometimes. He was bratty, pouty, stubborn, and jealous. And Tommy accepted all of that. Not just accepted it, loved it. He loved every part of Buck, even the parts Buck didn't love himself.

Buck also knew Tommy would do anything for him. Would drop whatever he was doing and run to Buck's side the second he got a call. Would wait on him hand and foot. He spoiled Buck rotten, and everyone knew it.

There weren't as many opportunities for Buck to reciprocate that level of love and support. But when these days came along, that what's Buck's time to shine. He hated to see Tommy like this, but loved that he could be there for him. Loved that he could help him through it. So that's what he did.

They got situated, Buck leaning against the arm rest with his legs sprawled out on the couch. He pulled Tommy down so his back rested against Buck's chest. Buck wrapped his arms around him, hands meeting just over his heart. Tommy's hands drifted up and latched onto Buck's, holding tight.

“Why don't you tell me about work?” Buck asked, pressing a kiss to the top of Tommy's head. Things had been fine before they left for work the previous morning, so something had to have happened during their shift.

“I only had two calls.”

“And?”

“And the first one was a drunk driver. It was noon, Evan. Noon.”

“Casualties?”

Tommy shook his head. “No, but a young girl got hit. Spinal injury. She probably won't walk again.”

Now Buck had a starting point.

“After that?”

Tommy's body tensed so Buck squeezed him tighter. “The new probie, Jenkins, did something stupid and pissed me off.”

“What'd he do?”

“Doesn't matter.”

“If it pissed you off, it matters.”

“He's one of those religious types that carries pamphlets in their pockets,” Tommy explained. “I guess he overheard me talking about you- about us- a few weeks ago so he gifted me a pamphlet today.”

Buck knew where this was going. “You're kidding me?”

“I wish. It was some Adam and Eve crap, not even original. It reminded me of my dad. He... He used to say things like that. Anyway, I threw the pamphlet away without reading it.”

“Good for you.”

Tommy shifted slightly, tangling his and Buck's legs together. “The only thing that kept running through my mind was how we watched a little girl's life change forever, she will never walk again, and all Jenkins was thinking about was turning me straight.”

Buck brought a hand to Tommy's hair, carefully running his fingers through it. “I'm sorry, Tommy.”

“My aunt texted me too. Wanted me to come to the next family reunion.”

“Are you gonna go?”

“I told her I'd have a plus one and she... she said she doesn't wanna hear my dad complain for an entire weekend. I was quickly uninvited.”

Buck took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I- If you wanna go-”

“There's not a single part of me that wants to be there, especially without you. I'm good.”

“If you're sure.”

“I'm sure.”

“What about your truck?” Buck asked. “You were working on it when I got home.”

“Oh. That.” Tommy rolled his eyes. “That was the icing on the cake. Engine light came on in the middle of my drive home. I think I fixed the problem for now, but I'm gonna need a new engine soon. Everything just fell apart today, Evan, I- sorry.”

“You don't need to be sorry.” Just then the doorbell rang and Buck gave Tommy a pat on the shoulder. “You do need to get the door though. It's for you.”

Tommy sat up, eyebrows furrowing at Buck before he got up and headed for the door.

About thirty seconds later, he was back with a paper bag in hand. His eyes were soft and tear-filled, but not with sadness this time. “You ordered my ice cream?”

Buck nodded, giving him a smile. “Of course I did.”

Tommy set the bag down and walked over to Buck, kneeling beside the couch and resting his head on Evan's lap. He wrapped his arms around Evan's waist the best he could, his face pressed against Evan's stomach. “I love you so much.”

After a few seconds, Buck stroked his thumb over Tommy's cheek. “Come here,” he said softly, pulling him up for a chaste kiss. “I love you too.”

[kittyfrisk9]

IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon/2

Part 1(?)

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Dead On Main.

---

Peace is, without a doubt, a precious commodity.

That was the conclusion Jason came to after a long moment of reflection, observing his cosmic boy: the dream demon who had saved him from that endless nightmare.

They were both in a field covered with flowers in shades of blue, purple and pink, under a starry sky where the stars seemed to shine with an unusual intensity. The same scenario as the last twenty times.

Yes, they had seen each other again. After Jason refused to forget that moment, the demon simply visited him again the next night, without even bothering to hide.

They didn't do much, they just played, had fun and enjoyed sweet moments together, like now, when the demon came up with the peculiar idea of ​​making flower crowns.

However, despite being the one who had the idea, he was the last to finish his crown. Jason found it sincerely adorable how the demon frowned, frustrated at not being able to tie a knot. Her expression was so cute that Jason couldn't help but smile. Sure, he could have helped her, but that would have robbed him of those precious minutes of admiration for him.

He didn't know how much time passed, he just watched and pondered. After all, time in this place was strange.

"I'm done!" Void exclaimed, proudly raising his crown. "Isn't it pretty?"

Jason replied with a simple "Yes." However, he wasn't looking at the flower crown, but at the creator of it. Although Void didn't seem to notice that detail.

"Thank you. It's the same design that Sa-Saiph showed me!" He commented, satisfied.

There it was again. Those little slips of information that Jason had noticed in the multiple conversations they'd had. Jason chuckled; Void wasn't very good at hiding data. He mentally noted it down in the special folder he'd created in his head for him anyway.

Because he'd be a liar if he said he didn't try to find out more about that demon with the information he'd inadvertently given him. Though, to be honest, he didn't try very hard either.

After all, he could see that Void was a nice guy. (And maybe, just maybe, Jason had a little crush on him.)

"One of your friends?" Jason asked curiously.

"Yeah, my best friend," Void replied. "She's a huge plant fanatic. I suspect she's on the level of Poison Ivy."

"Eh, it would be a problem to have another plant invasion," Jason commented, remembering the woman's extremist past. How many times had she invaded the city with her plants?

"Oh no, no, it only happened once, and she was being forced to do it," the demon suddenly stated, as if trying to quickly correct the impression he had given.

"Your friend invaded a city with plants?" Jason asked, incredulous.

"Just once," Void emphasized, as if that made it any better.

What the hell? How had that not reached the ears of the Justice League? Forget it, he decided not to ask. Some things were better left unsaid.

He decided to change the subject instead.

Unintentionally, his vision focused on the hands holding the crown, and then on her arms. The areas on his arms were decorated with a design that reminded Jason of a starry sky, filled with tiny, glowing stars and nebulas against a dark background. It was so beautiful, as if Void's arms were an extension of outer space.

As he looked closer, he realized that some other parts of his body also shared that surreal effect of a universe filled with stars. There were sparkles of light on his skin that seemed to dance with every movement, creating an ethereal and captivating image.

"Your skin… is amazing," Jason said, without thinking. "You look like you're made of stars."

Void smiled, a little embarrassed. "Thanks. I guess it's just part of my nature. I've always loved outer space."

Jason was silent for a moment, enjoying the revelation. "Really? Why?" He asked, genuinely curious to know more.

Void looked at his hands fondly. "I think it's partly because of my older sister. When I was little, she was… gone for a while. It was only a short time, but I was lonely. Then, on a call, she told me that I wasn't alone, that the stars were keeping me company. She said that every point in the sky was a friend watching me." Void then turned his gaze to Jason. "It's a silly story, right?"

Jason shook his head. "No. It's cute." Then, blushing, he added, "I have things I like too for certain reasons."

Void looked at him with interest. "Really? I'd love to hear about it."

However, Jason looked away, visibly embarrassed. "No."

The answer made Void's expression immediately deflate. "Oh, ancients… Why not? Tell me, tell me, tell me!" He exclaimed as he excitedly threw himself at Jason, eager to discover his secrets.

Jason laughed. "Still a no." Then he quickly dodged Void, jumping up and running to avoid being caught. Void, amused and exasperated, chased after him, insisting that he deserved to know.

"Come on! It's not fair!" Void shouted with laughter as he ran after Jason.

Fresh air, laughter, and the feeling of freedom filled the field of flowers. Yes, this was the peace Jason so desperately needed.

…

As dawn came, Jason woke up. His bed was really comfortable, and the little meetings with his sleep demon were truly relaxing. Jason had certainly had a satisfying month.

Stretching out on his bed, Jason wondered what he should have for breakfast, until he saw him.

He immediately sat up cursing the person creepily standing in the corner of the room: the demon brat, still in Robin's costume and staring at him. "Shit, Damian! What are you doing standing there?"

Damian completely ignored his question and, in a serious tone, asked, "Todd, do you do drugs?"

"What?" Jason frowned.

"You laughed a lot in your dreams," his younger brother said, his expression a mix of curiosity and disdain.

Jason looked at him in disbelief. Had this kid been spying on him all night while he slept?

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

One of Damian's hypotheses is that his brother uses drugs. As for Jazz, she had an accident in her parents' basement that injured her arm, so she had to stay in the hospital for a while. Danny felt super lonely without his older sister.

Comment that nobody cares about: I wasn't planning on continuing with this, I know it's poorly written, but inspiration came when I saw this (honestly it's a very weird way to get inspiration)

[seventeenpins]

bad girl

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: you're staying in your hometown for a couple of months with your mom and relatively new stepdad. he walks in on you masturbating, and is surprised at the sort of porn you've been watching. no outbreak. very smutty. 18+

warnings: ooh god where to begin??, reader is kind of a detached menace but in a fun way?, masturbation, porn watching, infidelity, choking, pussy slapping, pussy eating, unsafe piv, dirty talk, big dick, daddy kink, bit of breeding kink, age difference (unspecified, but reader is late 20s, joel mid-40s or whatever you like really), begging, slight dom/sub vibes, readers mum is a ho, somewhat degrading language (probably other warnings????)

a/n: honestly don't know what happened here. one minute i was working on what i intended to be a lil daddy kink drabble and then it turned into a whole other beast. also--i'm a recently out nb person but feel most of my writing has focused on fem readers. any nbs out there who'd want smut more tailored to us??? doesn't come up in this fic, but in my heart joel miller is bisexual and would make for some gr8 gender play ahhhh

you had only met your stepdad twice before he married your mom, and only a couple of times since, and you could never quite get a read on him. he seemed quiet and gruff. upsettingly hot with his salt and pepper hair, and his biceps, and his little bit of tummy, but seemingly entirely unattainable (how your mom pulled him, you'll never know). your mom didn't have the greatest track record as far as not cheating on her husbands, and you didn't know how much or how little he knew about her past, but you were incredibly curious how long this one'd last.

he's polite. enigmatic. a man of few words. he had two kids, who you hadn't actually met yet, but they were a few years younger than you and away at college--one daughter from a previous marriage, the other adopted when he was a single dad.

you'd only been staying here for a couple of weeks, usually only home for two months out of the year to do some freelance work and catch up with friends, but since your mom got remarried (again) you're adjusting to the new dynamic. you didn't have the best relationship with your mom, but you didn't argue. didn't fight. didn't have enough interest or passion to try and make her angry. you had a mutual understanding--you'd stay here for a couple months of the year, rent-free, and you wouldn't get into it with her about how her four husbands and a dozen boyfriends in between them in the nearly thirty years you'd been alive had simply made you impassive towards most men, knowing they'd never be able to stick around, and instead you took what you wanted and then ditched them before they could ditch you. to say you had daddy issues was just the tip of the iceberg.

there's only been one family dinner night since you've been back, but calling it awkward was an understatement. you were sat in almost total silence, as your mom scrolls on her phone and joel scoops up some mashed potatoes and slaps them onto his plate.

"so, uh-," he begins, clearly not sure how to start a conversation, "how's your work been going? guessing it's pretty slow these months since you're able to take the time away? your freelance stuff going well?"

"sure," you agree, "it does get slow this time of year. freelance has been good. got a couple of projects i'm enjoying working on."

there's another silence.

"your momma said you'd been dating someone you met at your work? how's that been going?"

you laughed, thinking back to one of the only guys you'd mentioned to your mother, less out of a closeness to him and more because you wanted your mom to get off your case, "honestly, that ended a while ago. he was a pretty terrible lay."

joel clearly wasn't expecting that, and you smirked at him as he choked on the beer he was sipping, coughing and trying to cover up any spittle. your mom gently pats him on the back, still staring at her phone, not even listening. typical.

not sure how to follow this up, joel just shrugs and puts on a stoic face. "sorry to hear about that, sweetheart. what a shame."

you'd be lying if you said that didn't make your heart flutter just a little.

you've attuned to the general framework of home again. you've noticed a few other things, too. first, your stepdad seems to be taking a whole lot of evening shifts. second, your mom seems to be out when he's out, too, but always manages to slip in just before he gets home. finally, if there's one thing you know about joel, it's that if he's working an evening shift, you can pretty much guarantee that he's gonna be at least an hour later coming home than he says he'll be. more often than not, two. you've been here for sixteen days, and in the eleven days he's worked late, he's been late late. and this morning, joel said he wouldn't be home till at least 9pm.

it's only 5pm, so you think absolutely nothing of it when you pull up your favorite porn site, careless about keeping your bedroom door closed.

sometimes it takes you a long time to decide on what porn to watch. sometimes you want the release, and just need something that'll get you there quick. and then there are some days where you know exactly what you want. you know exactly how you want it, and you know just where to find it.

you've got an incognito browser up as you scroll through the page till you find the section you're looking for. click open a couple of videos in separate tabs. skip the ads.

place the laptop beside you, choose one to start with, and watch as the scene unfolds.

you need this. it's only been a couple of weeks since you've gotten laid, but you and your most recent fuck buddy have more or less broken up and you are extraordinarily horny, with no outlet besides your hand (and, technically, your trusty magic wand, but you forgot to bring your charging cable and she's only got so much life in her).

you focus on the scene, slowly dragging your fingers along your pussy lips, your other hand pinching and twisting at a nipple. you listen to the moans on screen as you tease yourself, dipping a finger into your tight, wet heat, and then adding another. the friction begins to build, and the pressure you're putting on your clit is just right.

"fuck", you let out a breathless moan as you start finger fucking yourself in earnest. your hips are stuttering and you feel it building so deliciously and you absolutely don't hear the knock on your door and the slight clear of a throat.

and then you register it, a couple of moments later.

you look up from your laptop screen and towards your door and you see your stepdad, cup of coffee in hand, and he's staring at you with an expression you can't parse, one eyebrow raised.

you buffer, taking a moment more for you to react to him, and you manage it in the worst possible way.

"fuck!!" you shout, slamming the laptop shut and practically flinging it away from you, pulling your hand from under the sheets and not-so-subtly wiping your slick on your duvet, and pulling your top back down over your tits. it's all done in a split second, and it was neither low-key nor quiet. you know your face is growing more flushed by the moment, and you can swear joel is actually smirking.

you stare each other down before you finally speak, "what are you doing home so early?"

"i live here," joel shrugs, takes a sip of the coffee, and then realises he might sound like a bit of a dick. "just- uh. just found out some... shitty news. decided to take the day off."

you almost forget the situation, quick to voice your worry--"are you okay joel? what's going on?"

he snorts. opens his mouth and closes it, as if he's decided better of it, and then opens it again. "just found out your mom's been stepping out on me. well. thought it was true for a while, but my brother just saw her with some guy. guess that's all the confirmation i need." he laughs, wryly, and his smile is dangerous.

"well shit," you say. it doesn't surprise you in the least, but you're not sure if it'd be better or worse to acknowledge that, and then you immediately remember your newest stepfather just caught you masturbating and you're deeply self conscious again.

"i'm really sorry, joel, but you've clearly-" you clear your throat, "caught me at a bad time. is there something i can help you with?"

he looks you up and down for a moment, and you can swear he's looking at your mouth for a second longer than you'd expect.

"well," he says, "i'd come up to see if you wanted anything for dinner. i was gonna order takeout."

there's a long pause.

"but now i'm curious about what i interrupted."

your eyes widen.

"let me see your computer. i wanna know what you were watching that you're so embarrassed of."

you immediately grab your laptop close to you and shake your head. this is something joel cannot see. "absolutely fuckin not," you tell him, and his smile gets sharper.

"i wasn't askin', sweetheart."

there's something dangerous about him now, and even though it frightens you, it's somehow exciting, too. commanding. persuasive.

he puts his mug down, and you barely think about what you're doing when you hand him the laptop, type in the password, and turn it around towards him.

you can't bare to look at the screen at the same time as him. it's fucked up and weird and he'd have every reason to avoid you forever after this, but there's a small (but persuasive) part of you that's telling you that this is a line he's willingly crossing, and there's a charge beneath it, and maybe you could get from him exactly what you want.

you study his face as he scrolls down the page. you hear him click, but no sound starts playing--he must be looking at the other tabs.

his eyes widen, and you can hear your heartbeat pounding as you watch his face.

you want him to say something. you need him to say something.

he hits play on one of the videos and the room is immediately fills with the sounds of slick flesh and moans and cries of "oh, daddy, oh daddy please--"

it's only then that he looks at you.

"well aren't you a filthy girl, hmm?" joel ridicules, "and don't think i don't notice the trend with these little videos of yours."

it's humiliating. you almost expect to die out of embarrassment right on the spot.

"look at some of these titles," joel continues, "stepdaughter gets fingerfucked by stepdaddy, stepdaughter's pussy pumped with daddy's cum ASMR, jesus christ girl-" he laughs, incredulous, "letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole".

joel's staring you down and you still haven't said anything, and that just won't do.

"these the usual kinda thing you like to touch yourself to? or is this a new subject now that you're home, spending time around your stepdaddy?"

"i-" you start, "i don't know, i-"

it's not an act, you're pretty fuckin frazzled, practically cocooning yourself in your covers and you shrink back in shame, and this seems to amuse joel to no end

"how's this, sweet girl," he says, and you realise he's been getting closer and closer to you and now he's seated only inches from your bare legs and pussy, still covered up with your blankets, "you tell me to stop, and i'll leave this room right now and close the door and we can pretend i never saw anything here-"

"no!" you cry out, and then slap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide at yourself while joel starts to chuckle.

"or," he continues, "you can let your stepdaddy make you feel real good."

"yes-" you cry, and not a moment later, the blankets are being pulled back and he's stroking two thick fingers along your cunt.

"there's a good girl," he says, and actually groans as he dips into you, collecting your slick, "so fucking wet for me. it is me you've been thinking about, ain't it?" he asks.

"yes joel," you say, because it's the fucking truth. you've been thinking about him nonstop for a while now, thinking about how his muscled arms look in those stupid threadbare t-shirts, thinking about the sigh he makes when he's had his first sip of a cold beer, thinking about the silver of his hair, the brown of his eyes, and the mere idea of what his cock might taste like. "i've wanted you to fuck me since i first met you."

he lets out a fuckin growl and presses his fingers into you. "such a cute little pussy, already dripping for me, huh?" he moans, and it's two digits pressing into you, but you've been working yourself up for a little while now and you're already swollen and wet and they slip right in. he finger fucks you for a moment before turning back to the laptop.

"which one's your favorite?" he nods at your screen, "which one do you watch and wish it was happening to you?"

you swallow and click back to another tab.

"letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole?", he snorts, "you really are a dirty girl, aren't you? get up off the bed." he commands.

you obey, standing up and kicking off the panties still around your ankles.

"and take that top off," he commands, and you do, pulling your top up over your tits and melting at the sound of his groan at seeing you bare for him.

he sits down on the bed with his legs spread, jeans still on. "you come sit here by daddy's lap," he says, and you do, sitting in between his thighs, inching back ever so slightly until you could feel his hard cock straining against his pants.

he runs his fingertips down your body, down your breasts and torso, dipping into your bellybutton, before drawing little circles on your hips.

'hit play," he says, and you grab the laptop next to you and resume the video.

he copies the video, rubbing one hand along your pussy and the other holding your thighs open.

"that's it," he coaxes, "keep those legs open for me, yeah?"

you're about to agree, when he starts stroking little circles around your already stimulated clit and the ability to speak leaves you. all you can do is focus on trying to keep your legs open, but your thighs are already almost quivering and he only chuckles.

"barely even touched you and you're already stupid."

you tried to nod and let out a sad whimper, tipping your head back and resting on his shoulder. he keeps his thumb pressed on your clit while he pumps his middle and index fingers in and out of you. it's so wonderfully, deliciously wrong. it feels addictive.

"you're doing so good, sweetheart, fucking on daddy's fingers like that," he praises, and it sends another spark of electricity building in your centre. encouraged, you start rocking your hips towards him, meeting each thrust of his fingers. "ready for another one?" he asks, and you nod vigorously.

he takes a moment to hold open your pussy and lean over you to look at it, stroking his fingertips along the outer lips, gathering some of your arousal, and prodding back your hood to get a little direct contact with your clit that leaves you writhing and gasping. he's smirking again, and presses a third finger into you. he curls them upwards, fucking the digits into you so nicely, and you enjoy the sensation as your arousal builds and builds and builds and-- as you come, you white out for just a moment, and as you come back into reality you can hear him speaking to you, "oh you're clenching so tight on my fingers, messy girl, look how you're dripping so nice down my fuckin' wrist. you're a nasty little slut, just like your momma huh? but i know you're gonna be a good girl for daddy, ain't ya?"

you continue to grind on his hand as his fingers stay buried in you, as you ride out the rest of your orgasm. only when you still does joel pull his fingers out of you.

as if hypnotised, he examines the arousal coating them. then, quick as anything, he pops his fingers in his mouth and sucks off your slick, immediately looking sheepish as though this was the only line he'd just crossed.

as quickly as he had become shy, he switched back to overt confidence. "y'just taste so good, sweetheart," he says, and then starts stroking your pussy again. "you're gonna let me have a proper taste, aren't you honey?"

you nod helplessly. it's so fucking good, it's too fucking good.

he scoots out from behind you and you buckle a little, toppling back onto the space he left. he's in front of you now and presses your thighs apart again, dropping to his knees on front of the bed's edge. he runs his tongue up your inner thigh, chuckling at your whimpers as he bites and nips at the sensitive skin. he takes a tentative lick, drawing his tongue towards your clit, circling it gently, and then dipping back before pulling off you for a moment.

"y'taste so fucking nice," he breathes, and his exhale on your slick pussy is exquisite. "i could just drink you up."

he presses the hood of your clit back once more, leaving his thumb there, applying perfect pressure as he flicks his tongue directly on that bundle of nerve endings and you feel like you're on fire.

"fuck, joel, yes-" you cry out, but he pulls back and shushes you.

"shhh," he says, "you don't call me joel right now, baby."

"i don't-?" you say, taken aback by the sudden lack of contact. then it clicks. "daddy-"

he smirks, "that's a good girl, sweetheart. wasn't too hard, now, was it?"

"no, daddy," you agree, and he's already diving back in, pressing his tongue into you in long strokes, letting you grind against his nose, his lips, the scratch of his cheeks, every movement he's making is so fucking perfect.

as he devours you, he presses his fingers into you again, and then you can't help yourself. you rut up on him, totally unable to practice anything resembling self restraint. in between strokes of his tongue, he pulls back and tells you, "i'm gonna need at least one more from you, baby, before you even get to think about sitting on this cock."

you let out a crazed whine, feeling joel's chuckle as he dives back in, eating your pussy like he was made to do only that.

he continues to build you up and up and without warning, you reach your peak again and come all over his face, your wet pussy drenching him and he closes his eyes and eats you through it like a man starved.

"fuck, baby," he says, "you taste so damn good, i could do that all day long."

you're splayed out, totally bare, the slick on your thighs cooling with the lack of contact. joel's looking you up and down, admiring your flushed body as he starts to undo his belt and drop his pants, your stomach flipping at the soft thunk of his belt hitting the floor.

you could feel, through his jeans, that his cock wasn't small, but you sure as fuck didn't anticipate just how thick and heavy it would hang between his wonderfully muscled thighs.

"you'd better get over here and fuck me, old man," you tease, and he snorts, before pulling you towards him by your ankles and landing a smack on your bare pussy.

"watch your manners, girl," he sneers.

"fuck!" you cry as you ride out the sensation, and he moves to slap you again, but your thighs are so slick his hand slips when he makes contact and accidentally presses you just right on your overstimulated clit, and to the surprise of both of you, you come again instantly.

he watches you, wide eyed, as you scream and your pussy clenches around nothing.

"you're just too easy, sweetheart," he laughs, "can't believe that little boyfriend of yours was such a bad lay when you're so goddamn easy. barely have to touch you and you're coming again and again for me."

"he'd just put it in, give it a couple thrusts, groan, and roll over," you snorted, loving the way joel's jaw clenches at your words, "besides, i prefer an older man."

"that's a damn shame, honey," he growls, "but i'm sure we can get ya taken care of."

you both realise at the same time that the video is still playing, as some particularly loud moans come through the speaker. you look over, and you swear you can see joel's eyes dilate as he watches.

that's a good girl, the man in the video croons, taking all of daddy's dick. wanna breed you full of me, fill you full of daddy's cum, you'd like that, huh?

you swallow and look back at joel. he looks ravenous.

"you love watching such dirty shit, don't you, baby?" joel asks, and starts teasingly rubbing your swollen clit again with his forefinger.

"yes daddy, please-" you agree, trying to chase the sensation, "please, i need your cock daddy, fill me up just like that-"

he lines himself up, notching the head of his thick cock at your entrance, and you're practically vibrating with need. it's not a want, it really is a need, if you don't have his cock right now you're probably gonna die and you need it you need it you need it so fucking badly

he laughs, and you realise you said all of that aloud, but you don't even have the capacity to feel truly shameful right now, you just need to feel him.

"c'mon, jo- daddy," you whine, "gotta feel you-"

"uh-uh, sweet thing," he chides, "i think you need to beg for it. you've got no manners, and knowing it's your momma who raised you it's pretty clear why, but you need to learn how to be a good girl. daddy's gonna teach you how to behave right here and now. got it?"

you let out a sharp exhale. "yes daddy."

"now beg."

two words shouldn't have such an ability to wreck you, but they do, and before you know it, you're rubbing your drooling pussy up against his cock head, rutting against him, begging and pleading-

"please, daddy, please fuck this wet pussy, you know how wrecked you've made me, turned me on so good, made me drip for you, made me come again and again on your fingers, i just wanna make you feel good, wanna take that cock, take everything you have to give, fuck me hard and fast and please, daddy, please--"

he cups your chin for just a moment, stroking a thumb along your jawline.

"that's better," he soothes, "what a good girl," and then he's slamming into you.

good fucking god he's huge, and you can swear you can feel every ridge, every vein, the swell of his shaft, the notch of his head, he's stretching you out deliciously.

you tilt your head back, leaving your throat bare, and let out a rough plea of, "choke me, daddy," and he doesn't need to be told twice, wrapping his hand around your neck and putting pressure in exactly the right spot. you can already feel the haziness building, and his thrusts keep coming fast and deep and you can feel the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.

"jesus christ, girl," he whines, and his thrusts start to falter a little, "you're gonna be the death of me. letting daddy use this nice little pussy just so he can feel good-"

his words begin to tip you over, and you know what you want-

"come inside me, daddy," you choke through the pressure around your throat, "fill me up, make yourself feel good, give it all to me-"

that does him in, and he lets out a strangled moan, coming inside you right as you come one last time, walls clenching tightly around his throbbing cock.

he releases your throat, and you both lay there for a minute, both totally fucked out.

after a minute, joel gingerly pulls out of you and lets out a weary groan.

"gonna be the death of me, woman," he snorts, and walks to your bathroom to clean himself up. he comes back a minute later with a cloth. you're expecting him to wipe you up, but first, he takes a moment to examine the cum that's dripping out of you.

"look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he smiles, presses his cum back into you, and then wipes down your slick thighs with the cloth.

"shit, joel-" you say, "who'd have thought you had that in you, old man?"

he rolls his eyes but he's still smiling, and then you sit together for a minute in comfortable silence. joel stands up after a while and grabs his coffee mug. takes a sip that you know must be cold by now, but he seems unbothered.

before he can leave, you stop him. "so-" you ask, "is this a one time thing, or?"

he shrugs, seemingly indifferent. "no reason i need to let your momma know what i know yet. and i reckon there's a lot more fun we can have before that happens."

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and your shoulders relax.

"good." you say, and joel smiles.

"good," he repeats. "now, i know i've worked up quite an appetite and i'm guessing you might have, too. you pick the takeout, i'll go pick it up."

"thanks, joel." you smile, and you're already thinking of the next time as you scroll takeout options on your phone.

that's it. you're fucking addicted, and goddamn you can't wait for your next hit.

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Twelve - Mr Ricciardo

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

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Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

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"So, tell me, why is it I have to wait for the neighbours boy to tell me that you've got a boyfriend?"

"Mum," Y/N tutted as she chopped the vegetables. "I haven't got a boyfriend, okay?"

Her mother sighed and she could picture her pinching the bridge of her nose out of frustration. "I've seen the clip. I've seen you kissing the man in the white suit."

Daniel, she was talking about Daniel.

"And, was that my grandson behind you? Do you know how heart breaking it is that this is the first time I'm seeing Milo?" Her mother continued.

Y/N rolled her eyes. But she was used to it by now, used to her mother berating her. "You've done this to yourself," she bit back. "You didn't want to support me when I was pregnant with Milo, so you don't have the right to know him." She pulled the phone away from her ear and ended the call.

She took just a moment to gather herself. Conversations with her mother always rattled her, but she couldn't bring herself to remove her mother from her life. Maybe one day she'd give her parents a chance to know Milo, she just wasn't ready for that yet.

"Momma," Milo called as he walked into the kitchen. He climbed into his seat at the table and placed his colouring book in front of him. It was a Formula One themed colouring book and Milo happily tried to colour in the Ferrari.

Y/N placed the vegetables into the pan with the already cooked chicken. "What is it, my little munchkin?" She asked as she sat opposite him.

Milo kicked his legs as he coloured in the number sixteen on the car. "Do you think Mr Ricciardo will take us to another race?" He asked.

Thank God Milo hadn't asked his mother why she had kissed Mr Ricciardo. He hadn't brought it up at all. But he had dragged Y/N away the moment Daniel had pulled away from her. And he had insisting on holding all of her attention on their way home.

She and Daniel hadn't had a moment alone since they returned home two days ago. They'd tried to text, but Y/N immediately went back to work and Daniel was training. Olivia was with her mother, so she didn't even see him when dropping Milo off at daycare.

"I don't know, munchkin," Y/N said as she pulled out her phone. "Would you like him to?" She texted Daniel as she waited for Milo to answer.

"No," he answered, and Y/N looked up.

She frowned at her son. "Why not, Milo? What's up, munchkin?"

Milo muttered something under his breath, something that Y/N couldn't hear. So she asked him to say it again. "I don't want you to date Mr Ricciardo, momma! You won't have time for me if you date him," he muttered under his breath.

Suddenly Y/N stood up. She walked around the stable and stood at Milo's side. "Oh, munchkin," she whispered as she knelt down beside him. She wasn't going to tell him about the text Daniel had just sent her, it would make him far too upset. "If your momma ever starts dating, she's not gonna have less time for you," she said as she pulled him close. "You'll always be my number one guy, even if I date Mr Ricciardo."

"Are you gonna date Mr Ricciardo?" Asked Milo as he swung his legs back and forth.

Y/N let out a sigh. "Mr Ricciardo has asked if I would like to go to dinner with him," she said as she stood up straight. "That means you get a sleepover with Livvy, and her grandparents are gonna look after you," she said and went back sorting dinner. "Are you okay with that, Munchkin?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, momma. Sleepover with 'Livia!" He cried and went back to colouring.

y/n (milo's hot momma)

tomorrow are you okay if milo stays with olivia and your parents?

daniel riiiiiciaaaardoooo

of course i'll let them know

She plated up dinner and placed on in front of Milo, putting his colouring book and pencils up on the counter. They didn't mention Daniel and Olivia for the rest of the night. As much as Milo said he was okay with it, Y/N still want' sure. So she didn't say anything.

***

She hadn't been out on a date since before Milo was born. Y/N didn't have any date clothes, which is why she went shopping on her lunch break.

There wasn't a lot she could afford, nothing too fancy. She searched through the shops for the entirety of the half an hour she had for a lunch break. It took a few attempts in a few different shops before she found the dress she'd wear out to dinner with Daniel.

It was black and fit to her body. She skirt was short, with a tiny, little slit on the side. Nothing like what anybody would expect to see her in, but she felt beautiful when she tried it on. It was going to be perfect for her date with Daniel.

It stayed in the back of the car while she completed her day at the office. It stayed in the back of the car when she picked Milo up from daycare.

She got Milo ready for his sleepover at the same time that she got ready for her date with Daniel. She showered as Milo packed away his toys.

For the drive over to his house, she was dressed down, wearing just her sweats. The dress only came out of her car when she and Milo walked up to the house. She kept it clutched tightly in her hands as they knocked on the door and waited for Daniel to answer.

"Milo!" He called the moment he opened the door.

"Mr Ricciardo!" Milo cried, attaching himself to his leg.

He offered Y/N a smile as she walked into the house. Immediately Daniel went to get Milo settled with Olivia while she went to the bathroom to get changed.

When she came out of the bathroom Milo was already comfortable with Olivia's grandparents, telling them his favourite facts about his favourite dinosaurs. He already had Rexy out and the beginnings of Jurassic park was playing on the television in the background.

"Munchkin," Y/N called softly from the doorway.

All eyes turned to her. At Daniels stare she felt herself become rather bashful. He muttered a 'wow' under his breath, but she didn't react.

But Milo still ran over to his momma. "Are you sure you're be okay here with Olivia and her grandparents?" She asked softly as she crouched down to his height (while still trying to keep herself dignified.

"Yeah, momma," Milo said. "Go and have fun." He sounded so grown up, she could have cried. She wrapped her arms around him for just a second before letting him run back to Olivia and her grandparents to tell them the rest of the facts he knew.

Daniel strode towards her and offered her his arm. "Shall we?" He asked. Looping her arm through his, she nodded her head, and they left the house.

She hadn't been on a date in so long, she had forgotten what they were like. Or, maybe no date she'd ever been on before was as good as this one.

Daniel was a perfect gentleman for the entire night. He opened doors for her, pulled out her seat for her, let her order whatever she wanted, and insisted on paying.

Dinner was incredible. The food was good, the drinks were good, and Daniel was even better. She tried to argue with him about the payment, but Daniel wouldn't let her. There was no way he was letting Milo's hot momma pay on the first date.

That night she confessed to him what her dreams were. It wasn't something she liked talking about, not since having Milo. It wasn't that she didn't pursue her dreams because of Milo, but she was a single mum who had moved across the country. She didn't have the time or the money for dreaming.

"I hate to say it," she began as they walked back out to the car, hands joined, swinging between them. "But I'm actually enjoying a night off from parenting."

"Don't feel bad," Daniel said as he pulled open the passenger door for her. But Y/N shook her head. Aside from her little comment, it wasn't something she wanted to talk about. If anything, she wanted to get back to Milo.

Daniel shut the door and climbed into the drivers seat. "Come on," he began. "We've got one more stop before we head home."

"We do?"

Daniel couldn't help the grin that crossed his face. He started the car and began driving, heading away from the restaurant. The further they drove the less busy the roads got. The city lights soon faded but Daniel kept driving.

It was only when they were in the middle of nowhere that he stopped. Out here they could see the stars. "Wow," she whispered as she opened the car door and stepped out. Her outfit wasn't really suited for the cool night air, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she leaned against the hood of the car.

"Have I told you that you look really good?" Daniel asked as he sat beside her. He placed his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into his side.

She couldn't stop her giggle as she allowed herself to rest against him. "Yes, Daniel. Several times." She looked up at the stars with her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Daniel. You also look great."

He was in a simple pair of jeans and white shirt. But damn did it suit him.

She couldn't stop herself from grabbing his hand and tracing her fingertips over his tattoos. "Tonight has been amazing. I don't think I've been on a date since I was maybe seventeen," she confessed.

"We're gonna have to make up for lost time," he said, leaning his face closer to hers.

He was addicting, and she couldn't help but find herself drawn to him. Drawn in close enough to kiss him. His hand was cupping her cheek, fingers pushing stray hairs behind her ear.

Just like kissing Daniel the first time, it was amazing. He quite literally took her breath away. But neither of them wanted to pull away, not until they were desperate. Even then, Daniel still rested his forehead against hers. "Be mine," he whispered, his lips almost touching hers again.

She couldn't stop herself from stealing another kiss. "Not until I take you on a date, Mr Ricciardo," she said smugly.

Mr Ricciardo. He liked the sound of that.

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