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#*checks stomach before i eat checks again after*
mysticwolfshadows · 2 days
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Taken - Zutara - Part 8
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When Katara wakes, she feels sick. She doesn't know if it's because of hours of continuous healing, or because of the dark dreams that swam through her mind. Dreams of Zuko waking, only to blame her for his banishment, to curse her name as he has her tossed from the ship.
When she wakes, she finds neck aching, her legs sore. Slowly, she stretches, rubbing the itch of sleep from her eyes and turning to her patient, her friend. Zuko is still asleep, his features relaxed and breathing even. A blanket had been tucked around him, and her coat draped over her. She reached over, lifting Zuko's blanket to peer at his wound. Still pink and raw, but no signs of bleeding. She hadn't failed.
She could faintly hear voices in the hall, and slowly stood. The walls of a ship were thick, and for her to hear anything, whoever was speaking had to be quite loud. Any louder, and they could wake the sleeping Prince.
Opening the door, her gaze landed on her father and Iroh, the former falling immediately silent. Her father looked at her with worry, but she only gave him a cold glare in return.
"Prince Zuko needs his rest," Katara said, voice as firm as the ice she wields. "You're shouting does not help with that."
"I just wanted to check on you," her father said. "The general was refusing me entry."
"As he should." Turning Katara gave Iroh a slight bow. "If you would, General, could you stay with Prince Zuko? I need a word with my father." Iroh gives her a bow, moving towards the door. She reaches out a hand, making the man pause in surprise. "And General... When he wakes, I will be informed. Immediately."
This time, Iroh's face twists with guilt, and he bows his head deeply to her. "Immediately, Princess."
Katara waits until the door to Zuko's room is shut tight before turning to her father. "General Iroh is fully aware that I need to be able to concentrate when healing wounds so deep. He is also aware that I need to rest after healing something as lethal as that. So please. Tell what you could possibly need from me right now?"
Her father was visibly surprised. He took a step back, putting distance between himself and her stern gaze. "You... You came onto the ship so quickly. As if it were natural for you. I just... I wanted to make sure that you could leave. That you weren't... taken, again..."
Taking a deep breath, Katara turned towards the galley. She vaguely remembered where it was. "I need food. We can talk while I eat."
Her father followed her, eyeing each soldier they passed. The soldiers eyed them both in turn, but didn't stop them. When they arrived, the cook passed them trays of food. Her stomach growled as she breathed in the warm scent of spices and herbs. Two dumplings, rice, gruel, salted vegetables, and some sizzle-crisps. She could see a few bottles of spices and oils on the benches. Perhaps a bit to eagerly, she took her tray to sit at the end of a bench. Her father followed, looking a bit dubiously at his own tray.
"Zuko became a dear friend to me while I was in the Fire Nation," Katara says as she stirs a few spices and oils into the gruel. She takes a bite of a dumpling, trying to hold back excited squirms as she tastes a seasoning other than sea salt. "He's the one that brought me home. So you don't need to worry about him just taking off with me." She didn't voice her suspicions about his banishment, but there was something else that needed to be said. "But... Dad, I don't belong here."
Her father frowned, having only poked at the foreign food before him. "Of course you don't belong on this ship, Katara. You belong with the tribe."
Taking a deep breath, Katara shakes her head. "Dad... I don't belong in the tribe." Before he could argue, she raised a hand. "I'm not saying I'm leaving. This is... my home... But I'm... Different. I spent a long time in the Fire Nation-"
"Three years is not a long time!"
"Nearly four," she corrected, poking absently at her gruel. It was a familiar dish from the palace. It was nice to have it again. "And that's a long time when you're eight."
There was silence for a moment, before her father spoke quietly. "Are you going to ask them to take you?"
Katara took a breath. "No. Not... Not yet. There's a chance that I can... become a part of the tribe again. But that will take time. I'd like to at least ask for a few things. Spices, for one. Some materials, if they have any."
Her father eyed her tray, then his own. He took a bite of a dumpling, as if to see how good it could be, only to cringe at the taste. His surprise was clear. "You actually like this?"
"A lot," she said. "Eat the rice and gruel plain. They made plain so people can add their favorite spices and sauces."
Her father follows her direction, blinking at the taste. He watches as she eats her own heavily spiced gruel. "I noticed you weren't eating much... Is this why? Our food is to..." He trailed off.
Katara smiled weakly, which was answer enough. As she finished, she noticed a few small injuries amongst the soldiers sitting across the room. They were whispering, glancing at her. With a glance at the door, making sure that Iroh hadn't sent for her, she gestured for the men to come forward.
The first to move was someone she sort of recognized. He'd been holding the coat Zuko had given her after she woke. He had a wrap around his arm, which covered a series of unusual welts and punctures. Leeches, apparently. With a bit of fresh water from the kitchens, she soothed the bites until they were nothing more than specks. It set off a wave of soldiers coming forwards, lining up for simple healing.
Her father watched on, watched as each soldier bowed their respects, some even giving her some of their own breakfast. There was not a one that hesitated to come forward for her help after the first. There were no hasty retreats, no nervous twitches at each move she made. She knew that her father would notice the difference from these Fire Nation soldiers and the people that were supposed to be her tribe.
In the end, her impromptu healing session was cut short, the medic puffing into the galley. Immediately, Katara stood, giving the soldiers a polite bow. Every single one returned the gesture.
"The Prince is awake," the medic said, even as Katara started to move past him. The man scurried after her, her father a few steps behind. "But he is speaking with General Iroh, and-"
Speaking was to gentle a word. The slightly ajar door of Zuko's room let her hear his voice as it bounced through the metal hall.
"Uncle!" he was shouting. "I told you I didn't want to-"
"You needed healing, Prince Zuko!" Oh, dear. Even Iroh was shouting. "I could not lose you. We had nowhere else to go, so I came to the one person I knew could heal you. Princess Katara-"
There was a flash of fire, and an enraged shout. "You know I don't want her here!"
Katara felt her chest grow painfully tight. Zuko didn't want her here. Perhaps she had done something. Perhaps he had been punished for removing her from the palace. But the least he could do was tell her that to her face. And that very thought left her blood boiling.
Throwing open the door, she marched into the room. "And tell me, Prince Zuko, why is that?"
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i wish i wasnt so consumed with how i look. but here i am
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moonbeamwritings · 1 year
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“Rin,” you whine, perching your chin on his stomach, eyeing him despite the phone that blocks your view. He’s aimlessly scrolling, just like he always does before bed, and you’re keen on stopping him. Your stomach grumbles and you call his name again. “Rintarouu.”
Without looking, he plops a hand onto your head and tells you, “Sorry, it’s after business hours.”
“Rin,” you’re not above groveling as your voice dips into a whine again, “can we go get food?”
“It’s almost midnight.”
“So? That McDonald’s down the street is open. I already checked.”
Rintarou’s hand moves to start massaging your scalp, though he still refuses to look at you.
“And, when have you ever turned down late-night fries?”
His phone tilts to the right and his pretty face comes into view, faux annoyance crossing his features. “But I’m sleepy, and it’s cold out.”
Making a show of batting your lashes at him, you jut out your bottom lip. “Please, babe. It’ll be my treat. You don’t even have to order if you don’t want to.” You shuffle up his chest to invade more of his space. “I’ll do anything.”
“Anything, huh?” He quirks a brow, putting his phone aside to pull you towards his chest. “I like the sound of that.”
“Rin,” you redirect, “the food. That’s priority number one.”
His lithe fingers curl around the back of your neck, guiding you forward until your lips meet. He pulls away after a few, sweet seconds, but not before nipping at your bottom lip. “Alright, fine. We’ll go.”
He pinches the plush of your warming cheek and grins. “But only because you beg so pretty.”
Rolling your eyes and pushing against his chest, you move to stand, pulling on his hand to force him to make good on his promise.
When you reach the front door, clad in his EJP hoodie that’s a size or two too big, Rintarou tugs the hood up onto your head and pulls on the strings, making it scrunch around your face. He ties them before bundling you up in his coat next.
Affection creeps into the corners of Rintarou’s gray eyes as he inspects your form. “C’mon stinky, let’s go. My baby’s gotta eat.”
Five minutes later, you’re standing in the lobby of McDonald’s, cheeks rosy from the cold and Rintarou’s fingers entangled with yours as he earnestly inspects the menu. When you’re up, he tugs you along towards the counter, and speaks before you even have the chance to open your mouth, ordering your usual and then his, making a point to slip his card into the machine.
“Hey,” you hiss once the order is placed, squeezing his hand in yours. “I said I’d pay.”
He stoops a bit to press a kiss to the crown of your head, right atop your hood. “Don’t you worry yer pretty lil’ head about it, okay? I wanted to.”
“But-”
A click of his tongue stops you in your tracks as he slings his arm around your shoulders. “Nuh uh. No buts.”
You sigh at his insistence, but nevertheless you tell him, “Thank you, Rin.”
Pleased, he hums, “Mhm.”
The food comes out moments later, and with his arm still resting on your shoulders, he guides you home. And as a winter chill nips at the tip of your nose, you snuggle closer to Rintarou’s side, excited to share a late-night snack with him.
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roosterforme · 24 days
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 1 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: After Bradley finally breaks things off with his girlfriend just days before the start of a deployment, he expects a few lonely months of nobody writing to him or waiting for his return. But the fateful arrival of a package from a class of fourth graders learning about aviation changes everything.
Warnings: Fluff, language, breakup angst
Length: 2200 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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Bradley had his duffle bag open on his bed, tidy stacks of his uniform components, flight suits, and underwear lined up next to it. He had his checklist in front of him. He liked to be as organized as possible.
"Are you even listening to me? I thought we were going out to dinner."
He looked up from his partially packed toiletry bag into the annoyed eyes of Vanessa where she stood on the other side of the bed. He was seven months into this relationship, and sometimes he wondered why either of them still bothered. She knew his routine by now. She knew what his deployments were like, but she had absolutely no patience for any of it.
"Ness, I'm leaving in four days. I just need to focus on this for a few minutes so I know what I need to buy before Wednesday, and then we can go out and eat."
"It's already seven o'clock. I thought you'd have finished packing by now," she replied with a pout and a glare. "Every nice restaurant is going to have a long wait now, because I'm just going to go ahead and assume that you didn't make a reservation anywhere."
He took a deep breath and let it out before pressing his lips together. What he really wanted was to order something for delivery, cuddle on the couch, watch a movie and have the first round of hot, goodbye sex. But she'd never go for it now. Apparently he'd already fucked up for the night. 
"No, I didn't make a reservation," he said calmly, and she rolled her eyes and reached for her phone. "I really don't even feel like going out. I'll be gone for months, stuck in a tiny bunk or a loud mess hall. I'd like to stay in tonight where it's quiet. Just me and you."
But she wasn't listening at all. "Let me see if Woodmere has any tables left," she muttered. "If not there, then I can try The Landmark." She looked as beautiful as she always did, but he couldn't even stand the sight of her right now.
"Ness. I want to stay in."
She groaned and looked him in the eye. "Of course you do. You always want to stay in. You always want to decompress or read a book. That's not healthy, you know that, right? I shouldn't have to force you out of your comfort zone all the time."
"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. His job was demanding, both mentally and physically. He usually preferred quiet over loud, because his own thoughts started to buzz when she dragged him out all over the place. And now she was glaring at him again. "Are you even going to miss me?" he asked softly, afraid of the answer. "You haven't said so one time since I told you about this deployment."
She heaved a deep and annoyed sigh. "You're deployed so frequently, Bradley, it's like you're the government's bitch. And if the Navy is going to insist upon eating up taxpayer money, the least they could do is pay you more."
His skin started to crawl as she went off about his career like always, but he'd honestly had enough. He raised his voice louder and asked once again, "Are you even going to miss me?"
Vanessa scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Of course I'm going to miss you. What kind of question is that? I'll be bored every weekend, waiting for you to get back, like usual. I almost never go out when you're deployed."
Bradley's heart started to pound in a way that made his palms sweat and his stomach turn. "Jesus, Vanessa. I asked if you're going to miss me. Not miss going out every weekend."
When she hesitated for a beat, he reached out to brace his hand on his headboard. "Yes, Bradley. I am going to miss you. Okay? Happy?"
"Fuck, no. I'm not happy Vanessa." And that was the bottom line right there. The absolute truth. And it didn't hurt to say it, rather he immediately felt better. He knew he would miss the sporadic emails and the phone calls and the dirty pictures and the reunion sex. The upcoming weeks would be harder without those things to look forward to, but at least he'd come home to his own place where he could do what he wanted instead of what he was told. He wouldn't have to listen to her negativity. "I think we need to break up."
Her eyes went wide with shock. "Excuse me?"
Bradley let go of the bed and ran his hand over his face. "You heard me, Ness. This isn't working. For either of us."
"Don't call me Ness," she snapped, immediately turning toward his bedroom door. "You're not my boyfriend anymore." She paused briefly, just long enough to say, "Fuck you," and then she was gone. 
He sat on the edge of his bed for a couple minutes, but it didn't take long to sort through his feelings. The immediate sense of calm that he felt had him convinced he'd done the right thing. There was no shared living space. There was no ring. There was no real commitment. Maybe he'd always known why that was the case. 
So he packed up his bag and made a shopping list, and when his stomach started to growl, he ordered dinner for himself from his favorite restaurant. He didn't cry, and he didn't worry about having to do anything he didn't want to do.
------------------------
The first few weeks of his deployment were great. He spent a lot of time in the air, and he flirted a bit with some of the women who approached him in the gym on the aircraft carrier. He jerked off while he thought about whomever he fucking wanted to. He didn't spend very much time reflecting on his relationship with Vanessa other than to acknowledge that it wasn't much of a relationship at all. In the moments where he thought maybe he missed her, he realized he just missed the idea of having someone who cared about him.
He was about a month in when he realized the attractive woman who always touched his arm in the gym was actually married, and he was not all about that. He was also maybe kind of getting tired of masturbating which was a depressing thought. He was bored, and he was lonely, and other than randomly hooking up with someone, he figured his best bet was finding a book or something to read. 
When he made his way to dinner, he heard everyone talking about the helicopter that had landed on deck less than an hour ago stacked full of containers of mail. There was a line of officers trailing down the hallway adjacent to the mess hall, everyone waiting patiently to pick up parcels from their loved ones. Since Bradley had basically nobody who would think to write to him, he made his way toward the food instead. 
His tray was piled high with everything he could get his hands on, and when he looked for somewhere to sit, he had to deftly avoid that stacked lieutenant who had a husband at home. He found a table off in the corner and devoured his dinner alone. When he stood to drop off his empty dishes and tray, some petty officers entered the cavernous room to drop off unclaimed mail. 
"Harper, Jonathan! Pauley, Vincent! Dixon, Jennifer! Sutter, Wesley! Bradshaw, Bradley!"
He was more than a little intrigued as he made his way up along with a handful of others, and then a white envelope and a small cardboard box were thrust into his hands. The envelope was addressed to him by name in familiar chicken scratch that made him smile. He shouldn't have counted Natasha out, especially when his birthday was in a few days. 
He tore into the envelope as he made his way back to his bunk. It contained a very short letter along with a coupon for buy one get one free steak dinners at her favorite restaurant with a post-it stuck to the back. 
This is your birthday present. Now when you take me out for my birthday when you get home, you only have to pay half as much. You're welcome.
He snorted as he unlocked his bunk door and tossed everything from Nat onto the small nightstand. And then he examined the box. It wasn't addressed to him. Not really. It was addressed to 'A Deployed US Naval Aviator' in tidy handwriting. Then he noticed the return address was from an elementary school in Mira Mesa, and his curiosity got the best of him.
Bradley sat on the edge of his bed and tore gently into the packaging to find the box was jam packed with items and overflowing with envelopes. He tipped the box, and everything went cascading out onto his narrow bed. There were a lot of snacks, and a pack of trail mix caught his eye, making his stomach growl.
"I just fed you," he muttered but ripped into the snack anyway, dumping half of it into his mouth in one go. He was eyeing the envelopes carefully, each one distinctly unique. Some had names written on them, and some had little doodles or pictures, but they definitely seemed to be from a class of kids who went to the school. He sifted through them until he found a slightly larger, more official looking envelope which once again said To: A Deployed US Naval Aviator.
He finished his snack, silently thanking the class of kids and their teacher, and then he opened the big envelope. He pulled out a typed up letter which was folded around a few photos that slid onto his lap. Then he started to read.
Dear United States Naval Aviator,
First of all, thank you for your service. Second, let us introduce ourselves. We are one of the fourth grade classes from Mira Mesa Elementary School, and we have been learning all about aviation for the last month or so. We have combined our science, math and social studies classes into one unit all about flying, and we have learned so much. We really wanted to share some of what we learned with you in the hopes that you might be able to help us learn even more!
Each student in the class has included a letter filled with information and some questions. If you have some free time and are inclined to do so, we would love to hear back from you. (No pressure!) There are plenty of thoughtful questions that my students would appreciate more information about. (Once again, only if you want to!) And I for one would love to give them the chance to show off what they learned to a professional. (I'm just a proud teacher!)
Thank you very much for indulging our curiosity thus far, and we hope to hear back from you. I'll include my email address just in case you have any questions or would prefer to reply that way. Otherwise you can send mail directly to the address for the school along with my name, and it will get to us. We hope we are about to dazzle you with our letters, and we wish you well on your deployment.
Sincerely,
The best fourth graders you will ever meet along with their teacher
Bradley was chuckling as he finished reading. Of course he would take the time to look at all of the notes from the kids and send back a response. It wasn't like he'd be tied up talking to Vanessa. This little project would keep him busy when he had nothing else to do, and besides, this was the kind of shit he would have thought was outlandishly cool when he was a fourth grader himself. 
He read and reread the name and accompanying email address at the bottom of the page. This teacher sounded charming, and he'd only read three paragraphs from her. He flipped the page over to double check that she hadn't written anything more, already wishing she had. Then he picked up the photos that had landed on his thigh and started to flip through them.
First he saw a group of kids outside in the bright San Diego sunlight, lined up and throwing paper airplanes. Then he flipped to one where some of the kids were sitting at their desks building more elaborate planes out of pieces of foam. There was another photo of the class on some sort of field trip, but it was the last photo in the stack that had him sitting up a little taller and taking a closer look.
"Damn."
The kids were all lined up once again, wearing a rainbow of colors, some making silly faces. But his eyes caught on their teacher. On you. Smiling back at him from the photo like you had an amusing secret. Like you wanted to share it with him.
"Fucking gorgeous."
----------------------
And, we're off. Oh, he thinks we are cute. Oh, he is about to be charmed even more. Thanks for pushing me out of my comfort zone a little bit with this one, and thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 2
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b2cute · 3 months
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What’s your problem?
rough dom!matt x fem!reader
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notes: this is my first smut so please lmk your thoughts!! send any requests ☁️
warnings: obv smut, degrading, pet names, fem receiving, p in v, cover it before you smother it,chocking, slapping, arguing, angst to smut to fluff, i think that’s all
enjoy 😊
word count: 2,460
*y/n’s pov*
*beep beep beep*
the loud sound coming from beside me causes me to jolt up and widen my eyes. i check the time.
3:46 a.m.
i stormed back into matt’s room after an argument we had. nick and i went out for dinner at boa and i came home to a cranky boyfriend that decided to his take anger out on me. instead of fixing the issue, we both agreed to ignore eachother for the rest of the night.
i go on my phone for about 20 minutes before my stomach growled at me. i decided to head over to the kitchen and fix up some cereal.
“look who decided to show their face to world! everyone welcome y/n to earth” matt snarks sitting at the dining table, paralleling the kitchen. i roll my eyes at the comment he made considering chris and nick went to sleepover at madi’s house leaving the house to just us.
“don’t be a brat just because you exhausted yourself in my bedroom.”
again. what is up with these rude comments?
“seriously matthew, can you act normal for 5 fucking seconds? you turned twenty months ago, act like it and quit being immature” i snap. my stomach gurgling louder as i pour cinnamon toast crunch in a bowl. i reach for the milk in the refrigerator and pour it into the bowl as i join matt across the dining room chair he’s sitting in.
silence
i bring my knees up to my chest as i eat the cereal looking up at the light flashing from my hand as i scroll endlessly on my phone. matt continues journaling and i can’t help but notice his veins appearing through his arm as he wrote quickly. his black tank top and gray sweats don’t help my imaginations, but i quickly snap out of them considering he’s being an asshole.
“hmm, so you have an attitude and staring a problem y/n?”
that’s was my final straw. i quickly slam the now empty cereal bowl into the sink and practically sprint upstairs to nicks bedroom and slam the door. i wasn’t going to spend another second with him until he sorted himself out.
i crawled into nicks silk sheets and bring the blanket up to my chest. i stayed in the bedroom with my back turned from the door. i wasn’t crying. i was frustrated. but that’s the thing with matt. he never admits he’s wrong.
*matts pov*
*slam*
she was being such a brat and i don’t even know why. it was like y/n wanted to get me worked up. i had already gotten into a shitty argument with laura and the managing team about the “lack of effort” i put into videos and her attitude made the situation way worse. i gave her a bit of time before i start to head upstairs. i knock on the door, no answer.
i slowly open the door to see y/n on her phone with her airpods in. she glances at me with an expression i cannot read.
did i seriously mess up that bad? i couldn’t have.
“cmon y/n let’s go to my room and sort this out.”
she takes her airpods out and returns them to the case. “okay.” i walk over to the side of the bed and take her forearm as i guide her downstairs, her following my steps. as i open the door to the room she enters, closing the door behind her and locking it.
*y/n’s pov*
we sit on matt’s bed, facing eachother. i could see his angry expression through his face, but he was trying to hide it.
“look y/n i don’t know what’s up with you, but you need to sort it out, okay? i’ve had a bad day already and your nitpicking isn’t making it any better.”
he’s got to be serious.
“my nitpicking?!” i say raising my voice. “from the second i walked into the door you have shown me nothing but disrespect. you’re being ignorant and selfish matt” my eyes burning from the emotions.
“im not the one who locked themselves in my room to avoid the situation now did i, y/n. now you’re going to get rid of that fucking attitude and quit raising your voice or el-“
“or else what?” i snap, raising my voice even higher.
matt lets out a sigh, almost like an “i told you so” breath. “you asked for it.”
before i could process what he meant, his tattooed covered arm reached to my throat and neck, giving it a squeeze. “you want to act like a fucking slut, then you’re going to take me like a fucking slut.” he growls pinning me to the headboard. his eyes were coated black with a small ring of blue. the hunger on his face growing by the second.
*slap*
“answer me slut, how are you going to take it?”
i was so shocked i didn’t know what to say, but i had to admit, i kinda liked it.
another slap.
“like a slut” i whimpered from the stinging on my left cheek.
“good, you’re going to listen to everything i say and don’t even think about cumming with asking me.”
i nod vigorously.
before i can speak, matt’s lip attach to mine quickly. his tounge explores my mouth as he quickly dominates me. he bites on my bottom lip as he slowly moves to my cheek. then my jaw.
soft moans are leaving my mouth as i tug on his brown locks. “fuck matt just like that” i say squeezing my eyes shut. “yea? you like it when i mark you whore?”
i nod quickly. “use your words or i’ll stop” matt growls between kissing my neck. “yes matt i love it”
i was a moaning mess. matt continued to suck, bite, and lick my neck. he left marks that were going to stay for weeks, maybe even longer.
matt quickly disregards his top and not long after comes to rip mine off. “hm, no bra tonight?” matt smirks before taking my right tit to his mouth. he swirls his tounge around and lightly nibbles it while taking the left and pinching my nipple with his long fingers.
“nnngh it feels so good but i need more matt” i whine underneath him. he pauses his movements and look back at me. “such a needy slut y/n” he replies.
before i could say anything else, he pulls me towards him using while hooking his arms underneath my thighs. matt rips my wide legged sweats off leaving me in just my panties. his face was so close to my throbbing pussy that is could feel his warm breaths on my puffy clit.
“you’re soaked y/n” matt growls.
*slap*
his hand slapped my folds. i let out a pornographic moan from the impact. “who does this pussy belong to?” “you matt, all you”
he chuckled through the whimpers i let out and finally takes my panties off. wasting no time, matt comes in contact with my clit and sucks on it so harshly. his hands came up to my tits, pinching and kneading them.
“mm-matt oh MY GOD” i screech. if he kept this up i would orgasm in no time.
matt stops sucking and lets go of my tits only to use one hand to spread my folds out more and the other hand vigorously rubs my clit.
i started to scream. it felt so good. “MATT UMPH SO GOOD” the knot in my stomach begging to release. “please let me cum” i plead getting hungrier by the second.
“go ahead let it out angel” matt says. with that i quickly release all over the sheets, but this doesn’t stop matt from continuing. “too much matt, i can’t tak-“
“whether you like it or not, you’re going to take it slut. you want to keep arguing with me, this is what you get. shouldn’t have got me so worked up y/n” matt argues. i couldn’t say anything as my swollen clit was getting thrown everywhere.
he finally lets go and i quickly close my legs together. my legs were shaking and i had tears rolling down my cheek. suddenly, i feel matt’s arms separate my legs. “did i fucking say i was done?” i nod my head no, slowly but enough to answer his question. “answer my question y/n”
“n-no you did not” i plead, my eyes and face swollen from the tears due to the overstimulation i was receiving. “yea that’s what i thought”
matt sticks his middle and ring finger into my cunt and wastes no time pumping in and out of me. he lowers his head more as he returns to my clit, nibbling and kissing it. “mmph matt” my hands tug at his messy curls. his eye brows were brushed in every direction and his cheeks were painted with a light pink. he continues pumping into me as my back arches. i was on the verge of passing out due to his movements. i felt his fingers curl up and find my sweet spot.
matt continued to hit my g-spot and i felt the familiar knot return. “C-CLOSE” i whisper being worn out. “hold it.” matt snaps. the blue in his eyes completely disappeared. i couldn’t take it anymore, but i didn’t want it to stop.
matt continues to thrust his fingers into my pussy and rub harshly on my clit as i scream. not taking it anymore, i release all over his fingers.
“didn’t i tell you that you couldn’t cum yet?” matt mumbled. “ c-can’t hold any l-longer” i say as my body is worn out. i feel my body go limp as matt removes his fingers out of my pussy. he gets up and shifts so he’s sitting on the bed. i couldn’t open my eyes but i felt his move up again, this time lifting me up. he places me on his desk chair and throws my legs over each arm chair.
“since you can’t follow simple rules like a good girl, you’re going to take it one more time, and if you don’t hold it, well… i can go all fucking night.” matt snarks. i quickly shoot my eyes open in fear. the thought of going all night sounded intriguing, but i couldn’t even handle two orgasms.
i nod slowly at matt’s remarks and feel his swollen lips come in contact with my neck. his kisses were soft, but passionate. i moan softly at the sudden sensation and my hands reach for his hair one more time. matt begins to slide is gray sweatpants off along with his dark blue boxers. his dick is swollen and his tip was a harsh pink shade, leaking with precum.
with one quick touch, matt slips right into me, considering how wet i was. without letting me adjust matt begins to pound into me. one of his hands crept to my throat giving it a light squeeze while the other hand went to my clit once again rubbing and pinching harshly. “AH i’m t-too sensitive!” i scream my hand quickly trailing to matt’s wrist in attempt to move it away from my lower half. i quickly regret the action when matt’s hand squeezes my throat tighter.
“don’t even think about doing that again” matt says as he continues to push in and out of me. “s-sorry i just can’t take a-anymore” i cry. my face was red and the tears were everywhere. “yes you can. you will.” matt says. after a couple minutes of matt’s actions he lets out a groan. “fuck y/n, i’m close” matt says. both his hands come on either side of the desk chair as he pounds into me. the brown haired boys eyes were screwed shut and his eyebrows furrowed. “m-me too” i manage to say using every last bit of energy in me. “can i please cum matt?” i beg. i’ve been holding it since he began thrusting into me. “do you think you deserve it” matt mumbles. i nod my head quickly before he says “go ahead, cum you whore.”
without waiting any further, i release for the third time that night. matt rails me through my high before he finally reaches his climax. he releases long white strings into my as he removes his cock from inside of me.
finally catching my breath, i feel matt’s present leave the room before he comes back in.
*matts pov*
i return to the room with a towel and water for y/n. she was collapsed on the chair, her legs still spread as both our cums we’re seeping out of her. i walk over and clean her up gently. she winces at the touch and grabs my biceps for support. i smirk at her struggle to open her eyes. i smirk at her struggle to open her eyes. she mumbles something but it was almost inaudible. “speak up baby” i say as i begin to change the sheets. “can’t move” is all y/n can get out of her soft lips.
i quickly finish putting the new sheets on and throw the old ones in the wash. i walk over to my drawer and take out a pair of my boxers and a ransom t-shirt for y/n. picking her up gently, i place her on the bed and lift her legs up to skips the boxers on. i lift her back up and her head quickly fad on my chest and i attempt to put the t-shirt over her head. after i dress her up i walk over and change into a new pair of boxer and blue plaid pajama pants. i grab my hair brush and walk over to y/n.
“you’re hairs a mess baby let me brush it” i chuckle. y/n lets out a soft hum as i brush her beautiful hair . once im finished, i put the hairbrush on the nightstand and lift the covers as i pick y/n up and slips her underneath them. i plant a kiss on her forehead before walking onto the other side of the bed and getting in.
after a moment of silence y/n mumbles “does this mean your not mad at me anymore?” i let out a laugh before replying to her. “of course i’m not mad at you baby i couldn’t even if i tried.” with that, i grab y/n and she throws her legs and arms over me. her head was snuggled in the crook of my neck and i leaned my face at the top of her head as i plant a kiss there.
“my sweet girl, get some rest my love”
taglist: (comment here to be on it)
@mattsleftnipple03 @ilovemenwithlonghairr @mangoposts @guccifrog @lovingmattysposts @sturnioloenthusiast @lolasturniolo @sophssturn @sstvrnioloo @n00dl3zzz
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luveline · 3 months
Note
Hi !!! Can I request something romantic between shy reader and spence? maybe he’s like trying to teacher her something and they’re alone? IDK WRITE WHATEVER U WANNA RIGHT ILL EAT IT UP REGARDLESS <3
Your stomach hurts and you need to pee, but you’re stuck. You’ve been trying to submit your virtual paperwork for the last two hours. Why have they made it this difficult? You’re beginning to wonder if you’re being hazed. 
Spencer told you it was easy. Well, he’d put a cup of tea on your desk (for which you hadn’t asked but gratefully accepted), seen you were starting your paperwork, and said, “I’ll see you for lunch in half an hour?” with a knowing smile. 
You’d smiled back. You want to be in the know with him, even if you’d needed a ten minute recovery period after he left to learn to breathe through your nose again. 
But it became clear after half an hour you wouldn’t be taking lunch, let alone joining him. Nervous sweat dampens your hands and the back of your shirt, and your face burns with heat —why is the office scorching? You’re in hell. 
You click another button, sure you’ve found the right process, but a yellow triangle appears with an exclamation mark inside. Function suppressed, it says.   
“Oh, good,” Spencer says, approaching from behind, a coffee. “I thought you stood me up. You’re struggling with the system?” 
“I wouldn’t say struggling.” 
“You don’t need any help, then?” 
“Please,” you say softly, worried someone else will hear you. You don’t want anyone in the team nor the unit to realise how inept you are. It’s bad enough that Spencer’s cottoned on. “I can’t get it to work.”
“I was kidding,” he says, smiling tentatively at you. “Let me get my chair.” 
Spencer tortures you sitting beside you, knee to knee and arm over your arm as he guides your mouse to the right page, then the correct paperclip. His watch falls down his wrist and brushes your skin with each direction, spurring chills all over. “You’re pretty much done,” he says. 
“I don’t know why I was so confused,” you say bashfully. 
“Because it’s a confusing system.” He smells like warm vanilla. You wish you could ask him about it, but you’ve a job to talk this close to him. 
“Thank you for helping.” 
He clicks through the last part of your file to check for any missing paperclips before he sends it off. “You’re welcome.” Then, because he secretly hates you, he takes your arm into his hand with achingly careful fingers. “Are you cold?” He rubs at your goosebumps. He has really nice hands, with strong veins. He moves purposefully. 
Another rush of goosebumps down your arm. “Are you okay?” he asks, his eyebrows tugged together worriedly. 
“I’m just,” —mortified— “embarrassed about the paperwork. I didn’t know there would be this many online responsibilities involved, I would’ve looked them up.”
Spencer’s eyebrows rise as your sentence ends. You’d mangled ‘looked them up’, said it breathless as his hand curled around your fingers. 
“Don’t worry about all of that. You can always ask me for help. Right? I sit right there.” He points to his desk. “Did you forget?”
Something about his tone suggests that he already knows you didn’t forget, but he takes your thank you gracefully, and continues pretending you’re cold rather than physically affected by his touch. He’s nice like that. 
“Here, in case you’re still cold,” he says, too casual, draping his suit jacket over your shoulders.
Not that nice. 
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linopls · 8 months
Text
birthday boys
jisung x fem!reader x felix, college!au
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summary: to celebrate your boyfriend and roommates birthday, you all play a fun drinking game which reveals something about your boyfriend. warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, alcohol, threesome, unprotected (wrap it before u tap it pls), voyeurism/exhibitism, cuckolding (kinda?), oral (male receiving 2x), a little degradation, a lot of praising 2.9k words (i got a little carried away.)
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you started dating jisung about a year ago, you met in your anatomy class freshman year of college. while jisung needed it for his major, you were taking it as one of your science electives which meant you had no idea what you were doing. while paired together for a lab, jisung saw your struggles and offered to help you study. once the semester ended, you and jisung continued to hang out and started dating.
jisung met felix shortly after you, the two became inseparable very quickly. after freshman year, felix decided he no longer wanted to dorm on campus and found an apartment and asked if you and jisung would like to take the second bedroom. 
you never had any complaints about rooming with jisung and felix. they were the nicest roommates you could ever ask for. they always did their laundry, never left dirty dishes in the sink, and always kept the fridge stocked with plenty of food. 
however you have found one issue about being friends with them, their birthdays followed each other. this meant that one week every year you would spend a fortune making sure to spoil your amazing and kind friends.
remembering an article you read, that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, this year you decided to recruit the help of jisung’s freshman roommate, minho, in preparing them the most amazing home cooked meal they could imagine. buying the most expensive ribs you could find, splurging on an expensive custom cake that was half each of their favorite flavors, and spending more on alcohol than you do your utilities. 
you also invited some of their other friends, changbin, hyunjin, and seungmin, but they know nothing about cooking and they brought board games and more alcohol for the nine of you to enjoy.
“its 6:15, where are they?” you wonder aloud.
“when have any of them ever been on time,” minho says, taking his apron off and setting it on the island.
you check your phone again for any missed texts from any of the boys and check the clock again to make sure your phone clock isn’t wrong.
“they’re nursing students doing clinicals, they will never be off on time,” minho says, pulling up one of the island chairs to sit in.
you sigh and set your head on his shoulder. “i should know that.”
“you should,” minho says, patting your back softly. “but me and you will never understand the life of not clocking out exactly at-”
the sound of the door opening interrupts minho’s thoughts and the familiar sound of jisung and felix’s laugh relaxes yours. jisung, felix, chan, and jeongin come in through the front door.
“something smells amazing!” felix says trying to catch a glimpse of the feast behind you and minho.
“you don’t get to eat until you open all your gifts!” you exclaim running to grab their presents from the living room.
with everyone’s gifts in their hands, changbin, hyunjin, and seungmin follow behind you. the present piles are dropped in front of the two boys and they  rip through their gifts, skim the cards, and say their thank you's before grabbing plates and filling them like they hadn’t been fed in years.
after the feast, the crowd gathers in the living room with their bottles and glasses of alcohol. while you try to sit down after doing a little head count, you notice jisung is missing. that’s when you hear a small whisper:
“y/n, y/n!” jisung calls from down the hall. “come here.”
you set down your wine glass on the coffee table, before saying a quick ‘i’ll be back’ to the boys.
before you can even ask what jisung wants, he pulls you into a warm hug and a deep kiss. his arms wrap around your lower back and his soft lips push against yours. one of your favorite quirks about jisung is that you can always feel is slight smile whenever he kisses you. you’ve never told him, he would probably die of embarrassment. 
you pull away first and set your forehead against his, “happy birthday, baby.”
“you are literally the best girlfriend i could ever ask for, do you know that?” 
“i’ve been told a couple times,” you giggle. “come on, let's go celebrate with all your friends!”
“can we celebrate, the two of us, later maybe?” jisung asks, wiggling his eyebrows and grabbing your hands.
“of course,” you blush. “i have a special surprise for you later.”
-
after watching half a movie, the group decides to play one of the board games that was brought. 
“i found this game wandering through target and thought it would be fun,” seungmin says, pulling out a card game labeled ‘truth or drink’.
after explaining the rules and everyone refilling their drinks, we begin. a couple rounds go through, people are spilling their biggest secrets or slowly working their drinks to be empty again.
“y/n, its your turn,” hyunjin reminds you.
you pull a card and read it aloud. “if you had a threesome with three people in the room, who would it be and why?”
the room is silent for a second as you think if you want to answer it or drink. jisung interrupts the silence by adjusting the way he is sitting and clearing his throat. 
“what will be be, y/nnie?” minho asks, trying to hold back laughter.
“well i think i have to pick jisung as one.” 
“you’d HAVE to?” jisung gasps, dramatically placing a hand over his heart.
“oh zip it,” you snap. “and i guess, felix? it would be easiest to arrange our schedules that way.”
felix’s eyes go wide and cheeks flush red.
“you think too logically,” jeongin laughs before drawing a card for his turn.
the rest of the night finishes without any issues, except changbin spilling his drink once. the rest of the boys uber or walk home around 3AM and you, jisung, and felix head into your bedrooms for a good night’s rest.
before you can even shut your door, jisung is kissing at your neck like a ravished vampire. you melt into his touch and turn to face him. he pushes his body against yours and gently snakes his hand behind your head before pushing you back into the door. you slide your hands underneath his shirt and he separates your kiss only to discard it and throw it to the floor. 
with jisung’s open chest on display, you start to kiss down his jawline and onto his collarbone leaving small marks along the way. jisung gasps softly at everytime you bite down on his soft skin.
“baby,” he says between small moans. “i have a question.”
“mhm,” you reply, still working on leaving marks on his chest.
“that threesome question.” he says and you stop and look up at him. his eyes shiny and filled with lust and his face flushed pink. “i know we never talked about it before, but would you want to?” he asks shyly.
you fully stand and cup your hands around his round cheek and think. “i’ve never thought about it before,” you say, pressing a kiss to his nose. “maybe, yeah sure, why not? it sounds intriguing .”
jisung makes a noise you could only describe as a small whimper. “would you want to…” he trails off.
“what baby? talk to me.”
“would you want to right now? like with felix? like you said?”
you’re stunned and jisung realizes. “i’m sorry for saying anything, we don’t have to, it was just an idea. we can go back-”
“yeah get him in here.”
“what?”
it’s not like you never noticed how attractive felix was. when he stretches his arms above his head and you catch a glimpse at his abs. when he’s concentrated on his games and his tongue peaks out between his beautiful and plush lips. when you talk to him early in the mornings and his voice is raspy and deeper than usual.
“what do you want to do with him?”
“y/n, are you serious?” jisung asks, snapping out of whatever whimpering-lust-haze he was in.
“yes, i am serious, jisung. what do you want to do with him?”
“i don’t want to do anything with him.”
“what do-”
“i want to watch.”
heat rushes to your core, butterflies fill your stomach, and you might have started to drool. the idea of being watched while having sex wasn’t something you ever thought you’d enjoy. but something about your boyfriend wanting to watch you have sex with another man, in front of him, felt so bad that it felt right. 
after kissing you one last time, jisung leaves the room. you start to panic and wonder if this was a bad idea. you turn to look in your vanity mirror and remember your special surprise you had for jisung and think about how it can be used for the two boys.
felix and jisung come into the room and you can feel the atmosphere become more tense.
jisung speaks first. “i explained it to him, he’s okay with it. we’ve already agreed if anyone is uncomfortable at any point, we stop and this never happened.”
“okay.” is all your able to say, you can feel your body being filled with nerves.
“y/n?” felix says. his voice is soothing, and knowing what is about to happen between you both makes him saying your name almost, sexy. 
“i’m ready.” you say.
jisung walks over to you first and begins to kiss you with a level of passion you never knew he had. he kisses up your jawline and whispers into your ear. “i love you baby.”
this gives you the confidence you did not know you had, or maybe its the alcohol. “both of you sit on the bed, please.” you ask softly. they both comply, looking at each other with excitement in their eyes. 
you very slowly, and very seductively, slide your pants down your legs. you look up to jisung for approval and he just smiles like a child about to indulge in his favorite candy. you then look over at felix who has his tongue poking through his luscious lips, staring at your legs.
your surprise is still hidden, until you slide your (jisung’s) oversized shirt off and over your head. jisung’s eyes widen and felix covers his crotch with his hands. you had never worn lingerie in your life, but decided to treat jisung, and now felix, for their birthdays. you picked out jisung’s favorite color, red, and made sure to get something that would accentuate your curves. 
“jesus baby,” jisung sighs. “you’re fucking gorgeous.”
“thank you. but tonights not about me, it's about you two.” 
you walk over to felix and place a hand on his cheek. “can i kiss you?” you ask, leaning down to be eye level with him. 
he nods and you kiss those soft plush lips you’ve wanted to kiss for months. you hear jisung moan slightly in the background, watching you makeout with his best friend in front of him is like porn he could never imagine. felix hesitantly kisses you back.
his lips are soft, softer than they look. after kissing him for a minute you can feel him gain more confidence in this whole scene but he doesn’t move his hands. you pull away slowly and look him in his eyes. they have the same shiny and lust filled look that jisung’s get, which reassures you slightly. 
“can i sit on your lap?” you ask.
felix nods quickly and moves his hands from covering his crotch to being placed softly on your hips. when you fully sit down, you feel the bulge in his pants pressed up against your clothed core. the sensation of straddling another man while your boyfriend watches sends a shiver down your spine. 
as you begin to kiss felix again, you feel the weight of the mattress shift and jisung’s body behind yours. he starts to kiss at your shoulder and up your neck. this causes you to moan loudly. jisung laughs slightly before his presences disappears from behind you and you hear your vanity chair being moved. you can only assume that jisung has moved it and sat in it to watch the show going on in his bed.
you start to kiss felix more passionately, slipping your tongue into his mouth and sliding your hands up and down his chest. you bite down on his bottom lip, releasing a low groan from him, before pulling away and start to pull his shirt off his body. you must stare at his abs a little too long before he grabs your chin and pulls you back into a kiss. 
you gently push felix back onto the bed, and start to kiss down his chest and stomach, leaving red marks and bruises on his perfectly soft skin. you hear his breath hitch in his throat as you make it to the waistband of his pajama pants. you stop kissing his skin to look up at him. 
“can i?” you ask.
“please, y/n.” he groans while lifting his hips to help you remove his pants.
you’re mouth waters at the sight of felix’s cock springing free from the confines of his pants. felix sighs of relief as slowly wrap one of your hands around the base. you slowly lick a stripe following the pulsing vein on the bottom of his cock to the head and pull off. you look up to see he’s propped himself up on his elbows and eyes are closed in pleasure. you take another long lick and stop at his red and angry tip, you place a kiss on the tip and start to go back down to the base.
before you can reach the base, felix slides his hand into your hair and pulls your head back to the top of his cock. “please don’t tease, y/n.” 
you smile and readjust your position to take his cock down your throat. you take every inch painfully slow, you hear felix’s breathing start to get heavier and hear movement from jisung behind you. you feel tears swelling up in your eyes as you start to fully take him in your mouth and you have to stop and pull off before you reach the base.
felix moves his hand from your hair and wipes the spit off your mouth. “it’s okay baby, i know i’m a little bigger than sungie,” he laughs.
“shut up or your out!” jisung says throwing your shirt (you think) at felix.
“my fault, my fault.” felix looks down at you again. “are you okay, love? do you want to do something else?”
you could cum on the spot. the way he’s so kind and gentle while doing something so extremely erotic sends new feelings to your core. 
“i’m okay, you can be a little rougher if you want,” you say, placing your mouth back on the tip of his cock.
“are you sure?” he asks, slowly gathering your hair into a ponytail with his hand.
“mhm,” you say, mouth full of his cock. 
felix slowly pushes you down on his cock, stopping when he feels your throat close and pulling back out again. he does the same thing a little quicker before asking again if you're ready. when you give him the go ahead, he starts again, slowly but accelerates his pace quickly. as he begins to fuck your face, you can feel your mind start to go blank. you move your hands to rest on his hips and out of the corner of your eye you can see jisung move to sit next to him.
jisung’s shirt is off and he’s palming himself through his pants with his left hand and with his right he moves a strand of hair that fell out of felix’s makeshift ponytail behind your ear.
“look at our pretty little slut letting you use her mouth like that,” jisung says as he starts to undo his belt. the comment makes both you and felix moan and felix starts to fuck your mouth even faster.
tears are streaming down your face and you're digging your nails so hard into felix’s thighs you might draw blood. you look over at your boyfriend to see his slowly jerking himself off to the erotic sight of his girlfriend being face-fucked by his best friend. 
felix’s thrust slowly start to become more erratic and you can tell he’s about to finish soon. you start to moan and hum around his cock to bring him to the feeling quicker. 
“i’m g-gonna cum, where? where?” felix groans.
“in her mouth, she’ll swallow it all,” jisung says matter-of-factly and he begins to fuck into his hand faster.
“jesus christ, fuck,” felix moans loudly as his hips sputter out of control. “i’m cumming.” felix thrusts one more time, deep and hard, down your throat before finishing with a guttural groan.
“don’t swallow,” jisung commands as felix slowly pulls his softening cock out of your mouth. jisung slowly stands up and pulls your head to be face to face with his cock.
“open,” he says, grabbing your mouth. the sight of felix’s cum sitting on your tongue is enough to make jisung finish all over your tongue. “now swallow.”
you swallow their mixed seed with a moan and without jisung having to ask, you open your mouth to show them both. felix groans and lets himself fall back onto the bed and jisung cups your face in his hands.
“good girl.” he smiles. “will you let felix and me take care of you now?"
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got highkey carried away so if you want a pt 2 lmk!!
UPDATE PT 2 IS HERE
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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 10 months
Text
Live on Air - Lando Norris
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<word count - 2063>
As you drove home, under the street lights illuminating the road beneath you, you spotted a notification on your phone that was on the seat next to you. From what you could see, it was Lando messaging about something, but you couldn't read the fine print of the text.
Thankfully, your phone was connected to your car and it wasn't long before the message popped up on the center console of the vehicle. 'Hey baby, I'll be on stream when you get home, so feel free to come and say hi!' the text read, but you weren't really feeling like being on stream today. 
You were home within a few minutes, so you parked the car and walked up to the front door. You found it was still locked as Lando wouldn't be able to hear if anyone came in or not. Unlocking it, you slipped your shoes off and put them orderly in the rack. 
Walking up the stairs, you heard Lando talking to someone, so you assumed he was doing the stream with one of his friends, most likely Max. You stripped off your work clothes and changed into some grey joggers and a baggy hoodie that you probably stole off Lando at some point. 
As you didn't want to disturb his stream, you went downstairs to the living room to watch some TV to wind down. You snuggled up on the couch with a blanket and all of the pillows you could possibly find, and scrolled through Netflix to find something you hadn't already watched.
After around an hour of reverting back to watching Friends for what felt like the tenth time, you felt your stomach rumbling and remembered that Lando probably hadn't had dinner either. Shooting him a quick text, you pressed play on the controller again and waited for his reply.
Checking your phone a short while later, you saw that Lando wanted pasta, and you also felt like having some garlic bread, so you didn't object. You paused the show, and started boiling the water in the pot. 
Meanwhile, you let the chopped tomatoes, garlic, peppers, chorizo and basil simmer away in the pan as it made a tasty sauce. As you poured the pasta into the boiling water, you were careful not to let any splash on you, but a huge droplet jumped onto your hand as you yelped in shock.
You ran to the sink, running the cool water onto your hand. the droplet left a little red circle that still hurt slightly. You grabbed a plaster from the cupboard to stop the burn from getting dirty, and stuck it to the back of your hand.
Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted that the pasta was boiling over and onto the stove top. "Shit!" you said, striding over to the cooker and turning the pasta down. You fished around with a fork and plucked a piece out, finding out that it was a bit too soft. 
You drained it and plated it up, pouring the sauce out over the pasta. You realised that you had forgotten to put the garlic bread in the oven, but you thought it was fine to put it in now and have it later. 
You picked up Lando's plate and made your way up to his room so that it wasn't cold when he got it. You knocked on the door, hearing a muffled 'Come in' from inside. You opened the door and watched as Lando spun around on his chair to face you.
"Hey, baby! Chat, look who it is!" he spoke, opening his arms out for you. You set the plate and cutlery down on his desk and perched down next to him. "I forgot to put the garlic bread in, so it's going to take another then minutes," you smiled, balancing yourself on the armrests of his chair.
"That's fine, where's yours?" he asked, pushing his keyboard back so he could bring his plate forward. "Mine's downstairs," 
"Do you want to come up here and eat? Max is having dinner too," he said, and there was no way you could say no to him. Some of his brown curls had fallen onto his forehead and the lights in his room cast the perfect light on his skin.
"Yeah, I'll go and grab mine," you said, doing exactly that. When you had gotten back, you found an armchair next to his gaming chair. Sitting down, you saw that Lando had taken his headphones off and had the audio sounding out through the room.
"I know guys, I know. She's brilliant and I am very lucky to have her," he smiled, reading the messages from chat. He meant every word of it and felt like the luckiest man alive to be able to just have you in his life.
"Lando, what the hell are you doing?" Max yelled, Lando laughing and tears streaming down his face.
"I was gone for 2 minutes," you laughed, sitting down and tucking into your pasta. They always got up to some shenanigans, but you didn't think things could happen that quickly.
"Stream is crazy, what can I say," Lando said, also tucking into his pasta. "Babe, chat is asking what we're having," 
"We are having pepper, tomato and chorizo pasta with garlic bread that is coming in a few minutes," you giggled, watching as chat told you what they were also telling you what they were having for dinner.
As you were about to finish, Lando noticed the plaster on your hand. "Hey, what happened here?" he asked, taking your hand and swiping his fingers over the plaster. 
"Oh, I burnt it," you shrugged, trying to go back to eating. 
"You burnt it? How?" he panicked, checking you all over as if you had burnt your entire body. "The water from the pasta got onto my hand when I was pouring it, no big deal," you told him. He brought your hand up to his lips and planted a soft kiss over the area. 
"Awww he does have a heart," you heard Max mock and chat was going out of their mind because of how cute you were. You were racing against Max and Lando a few minutes later, and you were battling with Lando for the win. 
You knew he could absolutely beat the living hell out of you on this game, so it was obvious he was just going easy on you. Suddenly, a loud beeping rang out through the house and it instantly hit you what it was. "Shit, the garlic bread!" you yelled springing out of the chair and running down to the kitchen.
Opening the oven, you saw the charred garlic bread and flung it out and onto the counter top. You plated the blackened bread up and took it to Lando. "Do you want some crispy garlic bread?" you giggled, showing the plate to the camera. 
"Oh my god that is horrendous," he laughed as you pouted at him with your pitiful plate of bread in your hands. "I just wanted garlic bread," you complained, putting it on top of your dirty plates and reading all of the funny messages from chat about your fail.
"We can order some in, if you want," he said, feeling just as heartbroken as you were about the lack of garlic bread. Well, he wasn't necessarily disappointed at the absence of the bread, he was saddened by the look of discontent on your face. 
"It's alright, there are a few bits that aren't overly crispy," 
You were enjoying yourself, racing with Max and Lando, talking with the fans, providing the comedic relief. You were squirming about in your seat as it had gotten uncomfortable after a while. Lando gently grabbed your wrists and tugged you over to him. 
You sat yourself on his thigh and laced one of your arms around his shoulders. It was nice just to spend time with him, his best friend and his fans - who meant the world to him. 
You let yourself lean into him as his scent enveloped you. It made all of your worries melt away and you quickly forgot about the carbonated garlic bread. "You look pretty," he said, shifting beneath you to make it more comfortable for the both of you.
"Thank you, baby," you said, just as the 5 red lights appeared for the next race you were doing. 
"What do you guys wanna do now?" Max asked as you had just finished the final round of racing. 
"Eurotruck Simulator," you said, looking Lando dead in the eyes. For some reason, it was one of your favourite games and you always got really into it. Neither of them disputed, and you were tanking down the road in your truck before you knew it. 
"Chat, how long do you think it'll be before Lando crashes the truck into another car?" you asked, watching as the replies from chat came flooding in. The general consensus was around 10 seconds, so that was what you betted on. 
Lando took over from you, his arms entrapping you on him. Just as you suspected, the truck was careened into a car beside him, "It doesn't turn! How am I supposed to not crash when it doesn't turn?" he raged, causing you and Max to cry of laughter. 
"Lando, it does turn, you just have to-" you started, but were cut off by another fit of laughter as Lando banged his fist on the table in frustration. This was a man who drove insanely fast cars at hundreds of kilometers an hour, but he couldn't drive a truck in a PC simulator game. 
You took over again, trying to pay back the debt Lando had racked up by crashing the truck a good three to four times. After a while, Lando noticed you were talking less and yawning a bit more. "Hey, you tired?" he whispered in your ear, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him.
"Just a little," you responded while everyone was focused on something Max was doing.
"Do you want to go to bed?" he asked, resting his head on your shoulder and gently kissing your neck. "Yeah, I think I'll go. I'll take the plates then head off," you nodded, getting ready to say goodnight to chat and retire for the night. 
"OK everyone, we're going to head off now," Lando said, the chat becoming filled with messages saying goodbye. "You can stay if you want," you quietly said to Lando as Max also said goodbye. 
"We've been on for a few hours no, it's alright. You head to bed, I'll get the plates," he said, waving as they turned the stream off and said their goodbyes to each other over the call. Then, silence settled over the room. 
You clambered off Lando's lap and straight into your bedroom. You collapsed onto the bed and nestled yourself in the sheets until you were comfy. When Lando came in, all he could see was the outline of you in bed and your head poking out of the top. 
He smiled at how cute you were, and he was incredibly happy that you came on stream with him tonight. He knew you were too tired sometimes, which was completely fine and understandable. The chat loved you, and you certainly knew how to work the camera. 
All it took was one flash of your dazzling smile and everyone was happy.  "You need anything before I get in?" he asked, stroking your hair from behind. 
"Nope," you shook your head, wanting nothing but for him to get in and cuddle you. As if he read your mind, he turned off the lights and shuffled in bed beside you. You tucked yourself underneath his chin and wrapped your legs around his waist. 
His hand snuck up the back of your hoodie and his fingers gently trailed the skin on your spine. "Are you streaming tomorrow?" you asked through the darkness.
"Not planning on it, why?" 
"I just thought we could go out or something," you said, your eyelids drooping heavily as sleep was slowly taking over your body. "Sure, we could go for lunch, or ice cream. I'm pretty sure the fair is in town so we could go tomorrow night," he said, waiting for a response. 
He quickly realised you were asleep, and grinned to himself. The fair could wait till tomorrow, he thought.
A/N - Do you guys want to see part 2 when they go to the carnival? Let me know <3
|masterlist|
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happilykrispypirate · 8 months
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Bloodstained Petals
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Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader
Warnings: Swearing, unrequited love, mentions of blood and throwing up, violence, death, and my shitty writing.
Summary: The Hanahaki Disease is a rare disease that causes flowers to grow in the person's lungs. The only way to stop it from killing the person, is to get the one they're in love with, to fall in love with them.
-
Y/n sighed as she watched as Mattheo make an advance on the girl he's been keen on for the last 2 months.
Theo sighed as he saw the look on the girl's face. He had known about her love for the dickhead since the beginning.
Y/n, you're making things harder for yourself," He finally spoke up.
"What's wrong with me?" She asked the question she's been asking him for years now.
"There's nothing wrong with you, love," Theo said, "He's just a fucking idiot."
Y/n sighed again, looking down at her food, feeling too sick to even think about eating anything.
"I'm going to bed, I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast," She said before getting up and walking out.
"I need the room tonight," Mattheo said when he came back to the table, "Where's Y/n?"
"You're a fucking idiot," Theo said also getting up to try and catch up with her, but she was already gone.
-
Y/n woke up in the middle of the night, coughing up her lungs. She ran to the bathroom to get her something to drink so that she'd stop coughing.
After downing a glass or two of water, her stomach churned. She quickly bent over the toilet and threw up.
Her heart sank with fear as she saw the blood and the petals. She then started coughing again, more petals.
Next thing she knew she stormed to the Gryffindor common room, ignoring the fat lady's whining about waking her up, and she ran straight to Hermione's room.
"Thank Merlin, you're awake," Y/n said.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked worriedly as she looked at the panicked girl.
As if on cue another coughing fit started and petals landed in het hand.
"Are those?"
"Yeah."
"Oh my God," Hermione said, "You have the Hanahaki Disease."
"You say that like I'm supposed to know what it means," Y/n said as she threw the petals into the bin.
"Hanahaki Disease, is caused by unrequited love."
Y/n stayed silent. She brought this upon herself... falling in love with Mattheo.
"It's very rare. It causes a flower to grow in your lungs. The only way to stop it, is to..."
"Is to what?" Y/n asked, looking at Hermione.
"Is to get the person you're in love with, to fall in love with you. They can't just say I love you, and it'll be gone. They have to actually mean it," She said.
"I'm doomed," Y/n said as she sat down on Hermione's bed.
"Y/n," Hermione said. Her words were cut short when Y/n went into another coughing fit. She patted Y/n on the back, to help in whatever way she can.
Y/n then ran to the bathroom to throw up. Hermione ran after her to hold her hair back.
"We have to get you to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said.
"No, I don't want anyone else to know about this," Y/n said, "Especially not Mattheo or Theo."
"Y/n if you don't do something, you're going to die," She said.
Y/n didn't answer her...
-
Over the next few days everyone noticed that she looked a bit sick. Professor McGonagall had sent her to her dorm after she had ran out of the classroom for the third time that lesson.
So, Y/n, just laid there in her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Her room littered with petals.
Theo had tried to come by a few times every day, but she made sure he couldn't come in.
She had Hermione put a charm on her door after Pansy walked in and saw Y/n coughing up petals. Y/n tried to lie her way out of, but Pansy knew immediately what it was. So now, the only people who can enter her dorm, was Pansy and Hermione.
As Y/n laid on her bed, she heard a soft knock on her door. She thought it was Theo, but when the spoke she knew she thought wrong.
Matheo.
"Y/n, I'm just checking in on you. Are you alright?" He was silent for a few moments, "Theo says you won't even let him in."
"Please, I need to know if you're alright," He said, "You're my best friend, I care about you."
The word 'friend' echoed in her mind for the rest of the day. She was only pulled out of her thoughts when she heard Theo yelling at Hermione.
"Why can't I fucking see her?" He yelled.
"Theo, she's not feeling well," Hermione said, "She said she doesn't want to get you sick."
"You and Pansy are in there every day!" He yelled again.
"Hermione," Y/n spoke, her voice raspy. Her throat was raw because of the coughing. She was weak due to the amount of blood she lost and the lack of oxygen.
Hermione's head poked through the door, "Let him in," Y/n said. She knew she didn't have a lot of time left, so she knew she had to tell him.
Hermione nodded, glad that she was finally telling Theo.
Hermione closed the door and lifted her wand. A few moments later, she turned towards Theo and nodded her head towards the door.
Theo didn't hesitate to storm in. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw how sick his best friend was.
He saw the petals, and immediately knew about what she had and why she had it.
"Holy fuck, love," Theo said as he knelt down next to her.
"Hey Theo," She smiled weakly.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked. Tears were in her eyes; he feared for her life.
"I didn't want to worry you too much," She said.
"You still worried me, love," He said as he took her hand and kissed it.
"I'm sorry," Y/n said, her eyes starting to droop.
"Get some rest, love," Theo said, "I'll be here when you wake up."
Y/n took her hand out of his and placed it on his cheek. A tear fell from his cheek, she wiped it away with her thumb before she closed her eyes.
Theo stayed for a few minutes. He thought, how could someone do this to her.
The anger consumed him. He made sure Y/n was comfortable before he stomped off to find Mattheo.
-
He found Mattheo with that girl. He pulled him up by the collar and pinned him to the wall.
"You motherfucker, you did this to her. She's dying because of you're fucking selfishness," Theo spat in his face.
"What the fuck man?" Mattheo said, "Who's dying?"
Theo said nothing, he dropped Mattheo on the floor before dragging him to Y/n's dorm.
Theo opened up the door and saw Hermione standing over you. She had her wand out, she was examining you.
"Y/n?" Mattheo said. His heart sank. He saw the blood, the petals. He knew.
It was because of him?
"This is all your fault. She's been in love with you for a long time, but you didn't even bother thinking about her. You made it seem like you love her but then you go after other girls," Theo said.
"I've always loved her. I just thought she didn't love me," Mattheo said.
"It's always been you."
They both looked up and saw that Y/n was looking at them. Or, Mattheo.
Mattheo went over to her, and crouched beside her bed.
"I'm so sorry I did this to you," He said, "I love you, I really do love you."
"I love you too, Mattheo," She said, smiling weakly at him. He leaned forward and planted his lips on hers. Neither of them caring about the blood and tears.
They both pulled away when another coughing fit started. Mattheo placed his hand on her back and rubbed circles.
"Why isn't she better?" Theo asked, "Shouldn't she be cured now?"
"I'm afraid, it's too late," Hermione said as tears ran down her cheeks. Pansy stood to the side, trying not to get lost in the tears.
Both the boys' hearts sank. She looked at them both.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," She said.
"It's alright, love," Theo said as he too crouched down next to her bed, taking her other hand.
"I'll always be with you," She said, "I love you both."
"No, don't say that, you're not dying," Mattheo said, "I finally got to tell you I love you. You're not leaving me now."
She smiled at him, tears running down her cheeks.
She let go of her last breath.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no," Mattheo begged sobbing. He lifted her up and held her to his chest as he rocked back and forth, sobbing into her hair.
Theo sobbed as he held her hands. His best friend since childhood gone.
Hermione held Pansy as they both cried.
"Don't leave me, please, don't leave me," Mattheo's voice cracked as he begged with every sob.
He blamed himself, he was too late.
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sixosix · 8 months
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roommate!lyney annoying you, fluff, kissing, profanity lol!!! feminine french pet name used once (1), implied secret relationship. written in like 30 mins not proofread
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“lyney, who the fuck ate my takeout?!”
that’s a stupid question; there’s only the two of you in this dorm room. exasperated, you throw yourself back on the couch, grieving your lost takeout that is most likely sitting in your boyfriend's stomach. lyney pops out of his bedroom with a cute smile and guilt hidden in closed eyes. he walks to you in slow steps, hands hidden behind his back.
you watch him with narrowed, suspicious eyes.
“ma chérie,” lyney purrs, and you hope there’s enough venom in your glare to take him down, “do you want a magic trick?”
you stare blankly. you do not want a magic trick.
lyney makes an undignified noise, flopping himself on top of you and the one-seat couch; you barely manage to get your laptop out of the way before he crushes it. “come on, entertain me. you have been giving your laptop more attention. do you want a magic trick or not?”
“if it’s about my food, i’m about to make you disappear.”
lyney fans his face as he turns, whistling. “you’ve done it again. you’re so charming when you glare so heatedly at me like that,” he coos, pressing his nose on your cheek and smiling against your skin.
you groan, pushing his face with your palm. “are you a freak?”
“if calling me that is what it takes for you to realize i just want you to look at me,” he agrees solemnly, muffled by you smothering his lips.
“i know i’m your roommate and everything, but you have a twin. do you have to bother me? aren’t you all for ‘family is everything’ and all that? how will they react if they see their lyney clinging onto his roommate like a lovesick parasite?”
“lynette doesn’t even like talking. and i like looking at you,” lyney says, nearing a whine. he persists in slotting himself between the couch armrest and your body, arms wrapped around your waist. it doesn’t budge when you tug on it.
“you can look at me without bothering me.”
lyney blinks owlishly. “oh?”
“entertain yourself,” you snarl, shifting so your back faces him. he buries his nose on the back of your neck, humming thoughtfully.
he then he kisses where your skin is bare, sighing softly. “i’m sorry. i wanted to take you out tonight.”
“dumbass,” you say, adding more to your essay with hostility in your fingers. “how are we going to enjoy dinner if you’re already full?”
“i can enjoy dinner if i see you enjoy dinner.” he sounds so serious about it, too. “hey, look at me for a sec. there’s something on your face.”
instinctively, you turn your head, startled when lyney takes it as an opportunity to kiss the side of your lips. “hey—” he interrupts you with a kiss on the other side. “lyney, you—” and then he seals the deal by kissing you properly.
it’s a little uncomfortable with the angle, but that’s far in the back of your mind with the press of his lips and the warmth he’s emanating. lyney’s a personified heater; it does help that he loves touching you in any way he can whenever you get too cold.
you have to pull away yourself, gasping deep breaths. lyney looks extremely pleased with himself. “you eat my takeout and try to distract me from my essay—do you want me to request a new roommate?”
but as you return to your laptop, you realize it’s gone. the pillow you’ve used to place it on top of is notably empty. you check the corners and peer at what you can with lyney’s arms caging you, but it’s not anywhere either.
“what? where the hell did you put it?”
“let me treat you dinner, and maybe i’ll tell you after our date,” lyney sing-songs, expertly swerving from your attack with a bright laugh.  “come on, up you go.”
lyney doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants; it’s the wisest decision to give in as soon as possible anyway.
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a/n hello guys this is like a practice round bc i have a longfic for lyney in the works !!!!!!!! but this is kinda lame so idk HELPP
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romanarose · 4 months
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Yes, Uncle Tommy?
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DBF!Joel Miller x fem!reader
DBF!Tommy Miller x fem!reader
Join my taglist : Masterlist
Summary: Something something, Santa's not the only one coming?
or
Your dads friend's kid brother, Tommy, fucks you while Joel watches... but Joel cant keep his hands to himself
Warnings and Content: Big, girthy age gap, degrading, rough sex, cucking Joel, objectification (calling her a toy, a sex doll etc). Tommy is playfully teasing you but it's in jest. Jerking off, cream pie and cum in face, make up smearing, ass eating, praise, "daddy" joel, "uncle tommy" threesome between brothers but they are far away from each other, but watching. ball sucking, mentions of oral, m and f receiving, slapping, pinning down, nipple play, spitting. EXPLICITE AND LOVING CONSENT! This was a lot so if i missed anything LMK!!!!!
Immersability: Reader is fem, has hair, reader is much younger than Joel and Tommy. Mentions of readers stomach jiggling but i think most (not all i'll conceed!) do when folded and pounded lol. Mentions of a "bruising grip" as a metaphor but not mentions of bruising or coloration.
The requested part two to Yes, Mr. Miller? but you don't gotta read before.
1.7 k Words
**************
"Jesus Christ!" Tommy laughed at you mockingly. "Look at her, struggling so hard to take it!"
Joel knelt behind you, fisting his cock above you as you chocked on his balls. "Be nice, baby's just sensitive." He warned his brother. He liked to watch Tommy's cock disappear into your little cunt.
"Yeah cause your scruffy excuse for a beard was all up in between her legs for hours before you decided to invite me in."
Joel had intended on fucking you raw in your bed again, but when Tommy heard the sounds coming out of your door, he put two and two together. After a brief, whispered deliberation with you, Joel invited him in.
'Be my own, personal porn star.' He had instructed. You knew just what Joel liked to see, and now he had the perfect view. Still, you couldn't help the sounds that drew Tommy in the first place so to keep your mouth occupied, Joel shoved his cock in your mouth. After he decided you were a little overwelmed, he switched to his balls.
"Poor little, baby..." Tommy mused. "Get'n awfully squirmy... wassamatter? Can't take it?" It was mostly playful mockery, but also his way of checking up on you.
All he got was a muffled whine as slobbered on Joel's fat balls.
Joel sat back on his haunches, pulling himself out of you but dragging his heavy balls on your face along the way, making sure to smear your make up as he spat a glob of spit on your before slapping you across the face.
"Uncle Tommy asked you a question, baby. Didn't daddy teach you your manners?"
Choking back a sob as you're stretched to the limit at the core of you, Tommy slows down to allow you to breath without his cock punching the air out of your lungs.
"Y-yes, unclemmmm, uncle Tommy?" You ask in your bestest, goodest girl voice.
"I said," Tommy grabbed your hips and yanked you down till you hit his pelvis, making you gasp. He dropped his body down to kiss your neck and said in a soft voice. "Are you doing alright?"
"Yes, Uncle Tommy, thank you sir." You seal it with a kiss on the lips and a buck of your hips, spurring Tommy on again.
The younger Miller groaned, pulling back and smiling at his brother as his hips snapped into you with fury. Both kept their shirts and a light jacket on incase they needed to clean up quick, and the way you were crying out, Joel wasn't sure you could keep from alerting the whole house when you came.
Joel placed his hands on your shoulders, pinning your wriggling body down. "Hold still, little girl..." Joel chastised, shuttering a bit at the lose of stimulation from his rough hands.
"M'm sorry daddy" You whine, but do little to stop the writhing on the bed.
Soothingly, Joel ran his hands down your still-clothes chest, swiping over your hard nipples and going back to rub your neck, repeating this motion and keeping you pinned down.
"It's okay, sweet girl, it's a lot, isn't it?"
It was, it was so fucking much. Joel was longer, but Tommy's cock was fatter, splitting you open wide. Despite the ache, you we so, so fucking high off pleasure right now, you could scream. Your stomach swooped with every thrust, Tommy hitting you right in your core as Joel massaged you, neglecting his own aching cock.
"Such a good little girl for us Joel, thanks for sharing your little toy." Tommy smacked your thigh, forcing you to bite down on your lip to prevent the yelp. "Hurts so good, but she's taking it anyway. Fuuuck, brother squeeze'n me so tight I think she's about to cum! Pathetic little thing, ain't she."
"Ohhh, she just wants to be good, Tommy! She just wants to be a little fuck doll for her daddy and uncle, bet her whole family can hear her little pussy getting torn apart." As Joel brought his hands down again, he squeezed your tits in a bruising grip, sure to leave a mark, before rolling your perky nipples between his fingers.
"Fuck, daddy!" You cry, making Tommy laugh again.
"I dunno Joel, I reckon you better fill her mouth up again before her real daddy comes in to find her being used like a blow up sex doll."
"I think you're right, brother."
"Always am."
Joel knelt up again, balls dangling above you and you open your mouth eagerly to taste his musk, but Joel surprises you by lowering himself down so his ass was right on your mouth. You could feel his balls on your chin as her jerked himself, muffling your moans and cries and begging with his ass.
"Oh fuuuck yeah, that's it, my dirty little girl"
Tommy chuckles, never relenting on his pace on you, fucking into your waiting body with everything he had. "Fucking nasty. She'll just let you do anything to her, huh?"
"Pretty much. Little girl just wants to make her daddy proud." You and Joel had actually talked about ass eating before and you said you were game, given the proper sanitary measures. Joel never actually did anything you didn't want or anything he hadn't asked about.
Glancing to the side, Joel saw your teddy, the little toy he had you clutching when he fucked you over thanksgiving and god an idea. Taking the toy and gripping at the neck, Joel pressed the button to your clit right above where his brother was defiling your little cunt. "Teddy wants you to come, baby."
He feels your whimpers reverberate between his ass cheeks as you like into him, tongue prodding at his tight hole. You briefly had the thought of slipping a finger up his ass, but remember that had not been discussed yet. You wondered if he'd let you peg him.
Joel looked up at Tommy, his brother's boyish face grinning wildly back at him. Joel had made Tommy start of easy, not going full pace just yet as he wasn't sure you could take that for too long, but now, as things were coming to an end, Joel wanted you absolutely destroyed. He picked your pretty make up smearing all over his ass.
"Go nuts Tommy. Fuck her like a rag doll."
Given full permission, Tommy was unleased. He gripped your hips, lifting them off he bed and he heard a muffled squeal before fucking hard and fast, your skirt falling down and revealing your jiggling belly. He was an absolutely mad man, slapping into you with such fervor Joel was carefully paying attention to your grip on his thighs as you ate him in case you needed to tap out, but your never once faltered on your tongue work. Joel took the moment to jerk his cock furiously, his one personal porn star getting fucking right in front of him, and him having the best seat in the house.
"Fuck, Joel." Tommy calls his attention, voice strained and eyes pinched closed. "She's fuck'n cum'n, cum'n real har- oh fuuuuck... shit! 'm cuming so hard!" With a few more grunts, Tommy spilled into you, filling you up with gushes of his warm seed.
Just then, Joel pulled back off your face just in time to spray the hot white on the red and black mixture of your make up, releasing with a grunt.
"Fuck darl'n, such a sexy little fuck doll for me..." When he was finished, Joel rubbed your teddy on your messy, soiled face. "Good girl.... such a good girl..." He coaxed Tommy to lay down, redressing himself before grabbing your makeup removing wipes and the baby wipes you added to your collection for days like this. He grabbed a few make-up wipes and tossed the baby wipes to Tommy. Joel sat on the bed, pulling your limp body towards him to rest your head on his lap. As Tommy took care gently wiping your aching and puffy pussy, tender in his strokes but thorough, Joel wiped down your soiled face, both whispering words of praise.
"Such a pretty girl"
"Did so well for us, princesca."
"Perfect thing."
Once you (and teddy) were clean, Tommy made his exit with a parting kiss, leaving you and Joel together.
"How do you feel, baby girl?" He asked, smoothing his hand over your face to sooth you.
"Great, Daddy. How do you feel?" You wanted to check in with him too. Fucking you at the same time as his brother may not have been the threesome he initially proposed, but you hoped you weren't dissapointing.
You could feel the smile in his voice. "Absolutely perfect, darling girl. amazing"
You laid there on his lap for a few moments until you heard the bathroom door opening after Tommy and your dads tell tale footsteps up the stairs.
"Heya Tom, where you been hiding?"
"Oh," Nervous laughter as he patted his stomach. "Just, you know, the eggnog. You know how I am with dairy." Tommy is talking too loud, signaling Joel to make his escape.
Joel mutters 'shitshitshit' and quickly put his shoes on, you scrambling to push him into the closet.
"You seen Joel lately? Or my kid? Wanna make sure she ain't drank too much. She gets a little dizzy sometimes with alcohol."
"Uhhh no man, ain't seen 'er. Joel i think went out for a smoke though."
"I'll check in her room."
"OH, uh, you know, she might be sleeping." He was so fucking loud and a bad actor.
You shut the closet door, and scramble back to your bed just in time for your dad to knock gently before carefully opening and calling your name in hushed tone. "High honey, you feeling okay? Disappeared there for a moment."
"Yeah dad, I'm alright. Just feeling a little under the weather is all."
"You have too much to drink?"
"Yeah, that might be it..."
"Ill get you some water, alright? And a bite to eat. make you feel better. Be back in a sec."
"Thank you daddy!"
When the door closed, you tell Joel it's clear and he comes out of the closet.
"Go, he's gonna make me leftovers, now's your chance!" You begin shoving him to your door, just Joel stops, pinching your cheeks with his thumb and forefingers.
"Don't you ever call another man daddy, understood?"
Through your squished cheeks you murmur. "Yes, Mr. Miller." He kisses you on the forehead and makes his exit.
*****************
Special shout out to @pedge-page bc the teddy scene was from their work Plushies Series Masterlist that fried my brain!
Thank you for all your love on yes, mr miller? i hope you like this too!
Im not getting rid of my tag list, but im adding an update blog, @romana-updates ! come follow and/or turn on notifications so you dont miss a thing!
But if being tagged is more your style, comment on the tag list linked above!
@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra @whatthefishh @ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin
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rosedom · 1 month
Note
AHHHH HELLOOO sorry i usually dont request much, haha this is actually my second request in all of my tumblr story ever but...i saw you decided to write for gaming and i just couldnt resist, i love your writing a lot and i just think its so immaculate hahaa. Could you write an scenario where male reader is stressed from work (imagine he has an important job like a doctor or something whatever you want is fine :)) because he has been working days nonstop, so much that his boyfriend is all worked up and horny for him so when reader comes back he finds himself straddled by him while hes begging for fucking? With cockwarming, breeding kink and cowgirl position. Could that be with Gaming, Lyney and Gorou? SORRY IF IM ASKING MUCH I DONT WANT TO BE A BOTHER😭😭 i just dont know how to request but thanks for reading all of rant. And again, thank you and sorry for bothering😔 have a nice day/afternoon/night!
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"an unnamed player has invited GA-MING, LYNEY, and GOROU to play . . . an apple a day
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✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!male!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!characters, vaginal sex & riding, breeding kink + creampies, creaming (lyney), gratuitous praise + petnames .
A/N : aa u are never a bother !! i am SO SORRY this took so long for me to get to, omg . . . but i had sm fun with this (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
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Patient after patient after patient, each one with a more downright stupid trouble than the last. Your day had started with a young man, clearly fresh out of Millelith training, complaining of a tummy ache, of all things! He had clutched his stomach and moaned and groaned, and all you could prescribe him was bedrest. It’s not like you were going to waste medicine—medicine that some people needed—on someone who ached because he didn't eat fucking breakfast. 
The next patient was an older woman, here only for her biannual check up. You'd greeted her, said a sweet, “Good morning, madame,” but all she did was turn her snobby nose up at you and demand you not waste her time.
“Madame, you have a serious—” 
“I know, young man.” You had heaved a sigh, letting her boss you around for the length of her appointment before sending her off with the exact same specifications as last time: take vitamins, get ample rest, stop talking back to people just doing their jobs. (Though, that last one there was merely something you wished you had said.
Too bad the customer—in this case, patient—is always right, huh?)
But, by the end of the day, you wish, instead, that you had simply elderly after elderly; their disrespect pales to the absolute headache that the rest of your patients put behind your eyes, pounding at your skull—bam, bam, bam.
Wham bam-thank-you-ma'am, all throbbing incessantly behind your eyes and making you wanna hurl—except, god, you’re the fucking doctor, and who’s there to take care of him when he’s a little under the weather? You’ve got your boyfriend, of course—your perfect boyfriend, light of your life, apple of your eye, yet he’s home, and you’re here, and you’re bloody exhausted. 
“I need to go home,” you murmur—quiet, lest your own voice make you lose the last of your thin-threaded sanity—, already stripping yourself of the itchy scrubs you wear during the long days. 
“But sir—” the nurse asks, meak, but her voice is still too loud, too shrill for right now. 
You huff. “I’ve worked for fourteen hours.” The tired gruff to your own voice makes you cringe. You can feel the way it tumbles from your chest, rattling you, your overly sensitive eyes and brain and head and fuckin’ everything, at this point. “Refer to the doc on duty, now.” 
The nurse nods, once. “Have a good night, doctor.”
You bid farewell—a kind apology with a promise to make it up to them, to bring them coffee, maybe, or some cookies—, and you take the slow walk home. The sky is dark and the fireflies are out, the gentle glow illuminating the path. With nothing but your own thoughts and the night to accompany you, you feel your headache gradually ease. It throbs, still; but each bump in your skull is gentler, now: it’s easier to ignore. 
Although the porch light is too strong—the lantern bright and attracting the nighttime bugs and moths—, the foyer of your home is dark. Your aching head is grateful for the reprieve—for the silence that envelops you in totality the second the door clicks quietly shut behind you—, but something other than tiredness pulls at your heartstrings: your sweet boyfriend, clad in only a shirt of yours, toeing into the entryway. 
“Honey?” He wipes the sleep from his eyes, softly smiling at you. “Hi.”
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“Ga-ming, honey—” honey, because Ga-ming unabashedly stole the pet name from you, first, “—you didn’t have to stay up for me.” 
As if on cue, his jaw cracks open in a yawn: this, you do not need the lights on to see. Your heart aches with your head, knowing that he had stayed up just for you. “Honey,” you repeat, sliding off your jacket and stepping up to him. You take his waist in your hands, bunching up the shirt he stole from your closet.
“Quit with that,” he murmurs, tilting up his head for a soft kiss. You grant it; but when you go to pull back, to keep the kiss gentle and chaste, Ga-ming presses forward, darting that little tongue out to lick at the seam of your lips; his hips, too, come bumping against yours, pressing into your thigh, pant to skin—
“Ga-ming?” you repeat, breath leaving you in a low huff. “You’re—” bare. 
Utterly, wholly bare: an expanse of warm, slick skin against your clothed leg. “‘m ready,” he mumbles while he takes to mouthing at your throat. His lips soothe you, somehow; it’s a reprieve, a stark contrast, to the pounding at your skull. 
“Ready?” you whisper, tilting your head back, letting your hands guide the steady roll of his hips onto your lap. 
He nods. “Ready for you,” he enunciates as he softly whines. 
Ga-ming—your Ga-ming—, your boyfriend, your love and light of your life: right here in front of you, on you, all needy for you, offering himself to you, wholly ready for the taking. 
“So please,” he continues, his cock dragging heavy across the seam of your pant; “fuck me.”
“Oh, honey,” you murmur; then again, an “oh, honey,” because you’re still half-dressed up in your clothes—though they’re only soft and bland, made to fit under the rough scrubs you had abandoned at the office—, and Ga-ming is naked save for the shirt draping across him, the low hemline covering the absolutely sinful way he grinds down. It’s a dirty move, a down, down, down that gives his sensitive cock friction against your pelvis. 
“Please, please, ‘m ready, I said—” his words abruptly drop off, a high cry in his throat that sends him to hide his overly-warm face in your neck. His skin burns against you, a feverish-hot that makes you chuckle, makes the throb in your head go away, just-so. “I said I-I was ready, so, please!”
You coo, quiet, bumping your hips up once. The jerking motion makes him cry out, but he manages to keep himself upright, right-side up but entirely unmoored on your cock. “Go on then, little lion. Take what you need, yeah?”
Whimpering a quiet, “Y-yeah,” he begins riding you, slow, steady—but slightly off-balanced—rolls of his hips that makes him whine, makes you groan low n’ deep in your chest. You let your hands rest on his hips, the fabric of his shirt falling over your wrists, and gently guide his motions. Once you’ve helped him establish himself, he begins riding you harder, more desperate.
Silent tears—though, are they truly silent, loud as he is moaning out for you?—dribble down his cheeks, falling to his shirt and soaking the collar of it in salty evidence of his abject pleasure. His abdomen is tensing and relaxing and tensing and relaxing again, all in a rapid loop, in and out and in n’ out, and then there’s a fucking bulge right below his navel when he sinks down hard n’ deep on your cock; and you’re sent over the edge at the sight, moaning through your teeth as you fill Ga-ming up with hot, sticky cum.
“Oh, oh—” he cries, grinding down harsh to get all your cum in as deep as possible, deep ‘nuff to breed him— “bred me, bred me so well, oh—” You groan at his desperate babbling as his thighs jerk around your hips, just before they give out on him entirely. He falls bodily into your chest, heaving through his own orgasm as weak mewls tumble from his prettily parted lips. Each sound is smeared into your throat while you laugh, light and breathless, jostling his overly-sensitized body and making him flinch. 
“Sorry, honey.” You kiss at his temple, and, the whole while, his small cunt is left to unconsciously milk your cock, left to assure that loud, insecure part of his brain that he’s wanted, that he’s bred all nice n’ full because he is loved. You’re long done, now, but the undulations make your body warm, soft, safe—just like Ga-ming is, comfy in your lap and wholly protected. “Thank you.”
He shakes his head against you, nuzzling into your throat with a heavy sigh. “You don’t have—hafta thank me,” he mumbles, a lick at your Adam’s apple to seal the deal. “I wanted ta.”
Tucking up the blankets around him, you grin. “Then can you warm my cock, lil’ dragon? Just for me?” You run your fingers lightly up his clothed spine, delighting in the shiver you can feel, one that runs the length of your cock as he’s snug on it. “Since earlier was all about you?” You raise the end of your sentence in a lilting tone, meant to tease, and Ga-ming huffs at you. 
And, n further retaliation, he clenches around you; the soft squeeze—all wet n’ warm, smearing your own cum across the base of your cock and leaving the mess of both of yours to dribble down the minute space between your bodies—forces you to calm your breathing, to take in the delicate scent of what is undeniably Ga-ming mixed with the smell of your own shirt, your own cologne. 
You laugh, then. “‘m sorry,” you say again amidst giggles, ones you’re careful you confine only to your upper chest lest the movement be too uncomfortable on both of your oversensitive groins. 
He doesn't reply, snuggled up comfy on your lap and stuffed full of your cock n’ cum both. Instead, he only noses into your neck further before his breathing steadies, lulling you to sleep, too.
It’s in your final moments of consciousness that you realize your head no longer hurts. 
(You suppose you now have the evidence that, yes, an orgasm is sufficient enough a cure for headaches.)
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Under Lyney’s palm, a small floor lamp clicks silently on. The light is admittedly dim, but, to your sensitive eyes, the bulb is blinding. You cringe and cover your eyes; but it only serves to shield you slightly, because you’re still upright in the foyer, and your body is rather weak. “Lyney,” you tiredly murmur, lifting your palm just enough to see the ground lest you trip. 
You bump into him, laughing lightly, but his worried hands jump to your arm. “Hey—”
“I’m okay.” You’re quick to calm him, placing your free hand on his in a tender gesture as you make way to the living room. “Just a headache, ‘s all. Ya shouldn't have stayed up f’r me.” Earlier, it hurt to even think; but here, with him, the pain is easy to ignore, in the face of his own self destruction.
He grumbles at you, though, says something you can’t quite catch and drops his hands, pads over to the lamp to flick it off. The return of darkness is soothing. 
He smiles at you, then; or, at least, you think he does. It’s difficult to see in the dark, and you can’t strain your eyes without hurting yourself. “I wanted to!” He takes three long strides before he’s standing in front of you, draping his arms across your shoulders. The position makes his (your) shirt ride up on his belly, and— ”I missed you, y’know,” he murmurs, suddenly all soft n’ deep, looking up at you and bumping his forehead against your chin. “A lot, really.” 
“Lyn—” 
He quickly silences you with a kiss. Against your lips, he pulls back, murmurs, “I missed your cock, especially.”
Laughing against him, you lean up ‘til he can no longer reach you. He pouts at you when you reply, faux-snark, “only my cock, huh?” Your bottom lip juts out—a mirror of Lyney’s own, a magic trick of his you took for your own; it’s a devilish trick, one you play right alongside puppy-dog eyes you know he’s soft to. “How cruel.” 
He huffs at you, pulling you down by the collar of your shirt to kiss the mirth off your lips. “I was tryin’ to be seductive,” he grumbles, knocking against your chin and beginning to push you backwards into the living room. “But nevermind!”
You want to say, “Hey, now:” disagree with him and keep on pouting and go, “hey, hey, hey,” all offended, but the backs of your knees come into contact with the edge of the sofa, and you’re well and sufficiently distracted from that idea.
“Sit,” he gently commands you—merely the illusion of choice—, giving you no choice in the matter with the way he’s pressing you down into the cushions. You go easily; you sigh in relief when the softness begins enveloping you—a pillow’s snug right in the middle of your back, and you briefly wonder if Lyney had planned this. He murmurs, “there you go,” quiet n’ soft, and you’re taken by the way this man gives to you. 
He wears his heart on his sleeve, truly; except, right now, the sleeve is yours (just like his heart belongs to you and yours to him in turn), and it's bare, and so is the expanse of his long, pale thighs, the hem of his boxers peeking out beneath the shirt. He stands in front of you, between your legs, makes sure you’re down and that you’re gonna stay down, but your eyes aren’t really tired, not anymore, staring at Luney—your Lyney—before he huffs and sits bodily onto you, straddling your lap with his knees sinking into the cushions on either side of you.
“Lyney,” you murmur, reaching out to take hold of his thighs. The position makes the shirt rise up on his belly, exposing the soft, rippling muscles there; but, in the dark, all you can go by is what you feel against your own stomach, his bare skin pressed to your thin shirt. “I was kiddin’, sweetheart.”
“I know you were,” he snaps at you, mean-like, but he brings his arms around your shoulders all sweetly and nuzzles into the side of your head. “But I wasn’t. I—I really did miss you; and your cock. If you—if you wanna, of course.” 
“Of course I want to, Lyn,” you mutter, tilting your head up to kiss beneath his chin. “I’m just a little tired.”
“A little?” He huffs, again, before sighing. “Just—let me do the work, alright? I’m already...” he pauses, tilts his head to the side, breathes in and out sharply.
You hum at him to go on. 
“‘m already prepped.” Oh. 
“Oh?” You grin, bringing your tired arm up to cup his cheek. He leans into your palm and his eyelashes flutter, brushing against your skin. “Go ahead then, sweet thing.”
And go ahead he does, smiling into you before he abruptly leans back ‘nuff to chuck off the shirt. You whine, say, “hey!” but there isn’t any bite left on your tongue when Lyney starts tugging his boxers down, too. He’s impatient, pulling at the seam and groaning curses at the fabric—as if it’s the damn boxers’ fault that he’s in a position that prevents him from taking them off. 
He relents, tilting this way and that and finally—after painstaking minutes later, ones that, under no circumstance, should be arousing, but the anticipation, the wait: it all makes your dick chub up in your own pants—Lyney’s left naked in your lap. The fabric hangs off his foot, and you reach down to tug it the rest of the way off for your sweet boyfriend as he busies himself unbuckling your own belt, loosening the tough leather enough for your pants to droop and enough for him to reach a hot hand into your briefs. 
“Eager, huh?” you tease, lifting your hips—and, subsequently, him—to let him get your dick out of your pants. Neither of you bother pulling down your own pants, not after Lyney spent so long on his boxers alone. He doesn’t dally. “My sweet Lyney.”
He sighs, again—he’s rather dramatic tonight; but, then again, when isn’t he? It wouldn’t quite be your Lyney without some theatrics—, spitting into his palm and lathering up your cock with it while he makes to straddle you more fully. “Thought you were tired,” he grumbles, hovering his, indeed, wet n’ slicked up and entirely prepped cunt over your thick cockhead.
“Mhm.” You set your hands on his plush thighs once he hooks the head of you into his loosened hole, groaning low and pleased in your throat while he softly whimpers at the barely-there stretch. He prepared himself well. “But when you’re lookin’ so pretty for me, I can’t help being wide awake. Wouldn’t wanna miss this sight for the world.”
With your eyes now adjusted to the light—and, oh, you consider how the throb of your head is a bygone memory now—, you can see the way his cheeks darken just-so, puffed up in exertion as his groin meets yours. You’ve got your cock stuffed up balls-deep in him, and he leans into you once he’s fully settled. 
He moans, less out of outright pleasure and more out of total contentment, comfy and warm on your lap as your arms knead at his thighs. His arms squeeze around your shoulders, and he quietly asks, “Gimme a minute.”
Nodding, you simply bask in the steady heat of him, letting him adjust and recognize that, yes, you’re home, now, and you hadn’t really left him at all. “I missed you,” you murmur rather suddenly, your voice quiet but still stark in the silence of the night. “Thought about you durin’ my shift.”
“You did?” His voice is rough but wispy, a little out-there and entirely gone. He’s slipping into that mindset he always does when he’s left to warm your cock—regardless of if it were by his volition or your own—, but he begins to subtly grind his hips against you, mewling at the hot sparks of rapture from his cock rubbing just right against you. 
“‘Course I did,” you continue, moving your hands to his hips instead to help move him along. His arms tighten around you and he moans directly into your ear.
From then on, it’s quiet: quiet, that is, save from the obscene slick noises of the lube Lyney used to prep himself earlier with his own slick, your pre-cum mixing up and making a mess of thick liquid between both of your thighs. His moans are barely audible, these soft, gentle lil’ uh, uh, uh’s punched out of him with each tender grind down. 
You think, even, that you’ll both cum like this: quiet, nothing but the sounds of your connection and heavy breaths, moans, groans as you fall over the edge. But then Lyney starts bumping his groin against yours even harder, grinding down deep on your cock and rubbing against your full balls, and he starts babbling for you to “breed me! Please—”
“I-I’ll breed you,” you groan, leaning your head back into the sofa cushions and chasing your release, chasing the release you both want, the one he wants so desperately stuffed up deep inside him. “Gonna fill you right up, just like you want, sweetheart.” 
He babbles more—a mix of syllables and words, more pleas for you to breed him—until he’s silenced by his own high-pitched whine, cumming around you and slathering you in creamy-white. The steady clench and release of his cunt forces you to your own end, thick cum slowly leaking out from the edges of his cunt and your cock. (You can hardly tell what’s your leaking cum and what is his own.)
“Thank you,” he mumbles, already beginning to doze. “Th’nk you:” quieter, more muddled against your ear.
You grab the throw you have across the sofa’s armrest, rucking it up around the two of you; you cocoon Lyney safe in your arms and on your softened cock. He’s nodded off, now, and he misses your words: “You don’t have to thank me,” you say anyway, even if he doesn’t hear you, “I love you.”
The cum’ll be sticky, later, when you wake up; but for now, it’s perfect. It’s perfectly warm and entirely cozy, wholly snuggled up with the love of your life. Your headache, the stressors of the day—they’re all forgotten in his presence. 
You’re so, so glad to love him. 
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“Hi, puppy,” you coo. The sound of your own voice grates you, but you ignore it to sweetly smile at your beloved. He stands there, motionless for a moment right there at the threshold before the foyer, until he shakes his head with a barely-there laugh. “Gorou?” 
He tilts his head to the side—this you can see, the silhouette of him in the moonlight—before he takes a tentative step forward. 
Then another. And another. Another, another, another, ‘till he’s standing in front of you and leans up to kiss your jaw. “Hi,” he repeats, voice ruff (hah!) and hoarse, a little too much so. “Missed ya.”
You tilt your head back to let him mouth at you, and your hands subconsciously come to clutch at his hips, and— “Oh, Gorou,” you mumble, pleasantly aghast, because your hands come into contact with bare, slick skin. “Pent up?”
With a quiet whimper, he tilts his hips forward, into you, pressing against the contact of your fingers on him. You slowly slide your one hand around, sneaking a large handful of his ass before you dip into his cleft, shuddering when your fingertip easily glides across his slicked, open cunt. 
“I-I wanted you, so bad,” he starts to mumble, shy, tucking his head into the meat where your shoulder meets your neck. Without any prompting, you adjust your stance, pressing your knee into his cock and making him jerk forward with another whimper high in his throat. “Oh!”
Slowly, his hips begin grinding—it’s a weak movement, testing, making sure you're really okay with this, right now. He moves unsure against you until you begin bumping your knee, letting his slick make a mess of your pant leg. “Go on,” you goad him on, soft, holding him snug against you. You can feel his cunt clench even through the fabric of your pants, a rapid rat-a-tat-tat against you that is oddly reminiscent of the headache you can feel begin to dissipate. “Take your pleasure, pup.”
He nods vehemently against you, beginning to hump as his tail swishes side to side, side to side, hypnotizing you just slightly. It’s hard to parse it out in the dark, but the shadow of it is undeniable behind him. Each bounce of your leg makes Gorou whimper, and he’s quick to crane his neck up for a kiss to muffle himself. You grant his request easily, but only for a minute; after, you gently part from him to murmur, so quiet that only he could possibly hear, those big, soft ears of his twitching as he strains, “What else do you want, honey?” 
“Want you,” he whines, grinding harshly once, twice. “Want you inside me, want you to breed me.” 
You didn’t expect that, but you’re a doctor, after all; it’s kinda in the job description to roll with the punches, so you do. “You wanna get fucked full of pups?” you ask, teasing and light, but Gorou’s mouth parts as a loud whine crawls out of his chest.
“Yes! Please.” Thick tears begin to drop from his eyes, saltwater dribbling onto the bare skin of your throat. “Now, now—breed me now,” he begs, and you coo at him, bringing your hands to curl into his hair, rubbing soothing circles into the base of one puppydog ear. 
“Patience, pup.” 
And, because he’s Gorou, and Gorou is nothing but a good boy, he nods, rapid-quick movements of his head, and begins to slow on your thigh. Heat shimmers low in your belly as he steps back from you on shaky legs, a wet splotch across your leg from his cunt. You bring a hand down, meaning to scoop it up off your pant, but your finger brushes two distinctly different textures: his natural slick, and fuckin’ lube. “Did you prepare yourself for me?”
“Y-yeah,” he mutters, tail tucking itself between his legs. You almost cringe at that, knowing he’s smearing himself into his own fur, but if he doesn’t mind, then you won’t either; besides, it’s hard to truly care when your boyfriend is so bashful in front of you. “I—I missed you, ‘nd wanted to be ready for you.”
The image of Gorou, ass up on the bed with four of his fingers stuffed up inside of himself flitters across your mind, makes your cock throb in your britches. Your erection was easy to ignore, earlier; but now it’s abject torture. 
However, it’s not nearly as torturous as it was for your boyfriend, and you know this. You know he didn’t cum, know his fingers are far too short to truly reach in deep and press against his g-spot, know his wrist can’t comfortably bend to jerk himself off and finger himself at the same time. So you coo, soft, “Sweet boy. Where’s your toy?”
“Charging,” he mutters. 
You grin at that: it’s perfect. “Can you go get it then, puppy?” 
With an audible swallow, he nods, rushing for your bedroom. You follow behind him, lethargic but so, so turned on; and while he’s grabbing the vibrator from the corner, you shuck off the rest of your clothes and plop yourself down on the edge of your bed. 
He must not expect you to have followed him, however, because once he turns around, he jumps, ears flattening to his head in embarrassment. You only laugh and pat your lap. “C’mere.”
Quickly—and toy in tow—, he shuffles over to you. He stands awkwardly in front of you for a moment before you murmur, “I said c’mere,” and tug him to straddle your lap. The position immediately forces his cock—slick n’ thick, out of its hood and throbbing incessantly—against yours, and he mewls helplessly for a moment, grinds once, twice again, before he grabs the lube to the side of you. 
You hadn’t even noticed it there, but now that he’s grabbed it, pointed it out, you feel other wet spots beneath you. He fuckin’ masturbated here, right on the duvet you both sleep under, thinkin’ about you and only you. You’re taking out of your musings when he slathers up your cock in lube, messy and sloppy, and then he’s rising, positioning you, and sinking right on down.
“Mm!” he cries out, swiveling his hips to take you in deeper, deeper, deeper. You groan at the lube-slick combination that smothers your cock in Gorou, Gorou, Gorou. “Breed me, breed me!” Each meak plea makes your cock pulse inside him, and he mewls at each throb inside him. “Please!”
“I got you, pup,” you murmur, your edge so close you can taste it on the tip of your tongue. “Just make yourself feel good, and I’ll breed you, okay? Okay, puppy?”
“Okay, okay—” 
You grin. “Good boy,” you say, and then he’s tumbling over the edge and bringing you right down with him. You groan into his throat, feeling the vibrations of his whimpers n’ whining moans as he’s getting thoroughly bred. Your hands ruck up his shirt to hold his sides and soothe him down from his high. “You did so good for me, sweetheart. Bred you just like I promised I would, hm?”
He weakly nods. “Thank you,” he mumbles, nosing at your throat. 
And, well. You’re bloody exhausted, and you promised to breed him, and he can’t keep on being bred if you pull out. You tell yourself you’re only upholding your promise as Gorou falls asleep on your cock, breathing deep on your lap: tell yourself that it’s the lingering tiredness that suddenly seems to hit you in full-force that keeps him warm and snug on you. 
Really, clean-up can wait. 
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i got a lil' carried away on lyney's part ,, o(*^@^*)o also, none of these were really cowgirl 'cos reader was sitting up for it . . . i couldn't think of how to have him lay flat in these scenarios LOLL
13 MAR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
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juleswrites223 · 2 months
Text
Moments with Mateo
Pairing: Dad!Carlos Sainz x Mom!Reader
a/n: made some tiny edits🙃 enjoy!
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"Mateo you like mama best no?" You ask your 3 year old son who is way too busy playing with his race cars to even hear your question.
"mhm", he says, without even hearing the question.
"Oi that's not fair amor, he says mhm for everything these days." Carlos says.
It's a typical friday night, you and your husband came back from dinner, changed and snuggled into bed. Now what better way to spend quality family time than be cuddled in bed with your dear hubby and your son and watch movies. Said son is on the bed outside the blanket, ignoring the banter that is going on between his parents about who he loves more.
After a while when you have decided to sleep because it is late and you are a mom after all, Carlos switches on the night light (because Mateo can't seem to sleep without it) and turns over to give you a sweet kiss before sleep. But as soon as he's about to kiss you, Mateo who is in between you guys, puts his tiny hand on his papa's lips and stops him.
"No kissing MY mama." Mateo states.
"Your mama happens to be MY wife." Your husband argues back.
You just decide to laugh lightly and say, "I have enough kisses for the both of you."
You kiss Mateo on his cheeks and Carlos on his lips and go to sleep.
It's around 3 in the morning when a small voice utters:
"mama."
You take a while to reply to him so he taps your face lightly with his hands to wake you up.
"Yeah baby." You reply back groggily while Carlos is still in deep slumber snoring away.
"Tummy's hungry." Mateo says as he stretches a bit, sits up on his knees and leans his head on your stomach.
"Your tummy's hungry?" You ask more clearly since you are a bit more awake now. You lightly tickle his tummy as you ask him then you pick him up, put on your slippers and walk to the kitchen. You sat him on the kitchen counter top and walked over to the fridge.
There were some leftovers of the carbonara Carlos made last night so you decided to reheat those and give it to Mateo.
"It's good?" You ask him as he is happily munching away. He just says a quiet "mhm" and continues eating.
After he finishes eating, you make him brush his teeth again then go to bed. However, it seems Mateo does not want to sleep, he puts his head on the pillow then sleeps on his dad's stomach then goes over to the couch kept in the room and tries sleeping there but to no avail, he just cannot seem to fall asleep.
It's around five in the morning when Carlos wakes up, he soon realises that his son is not in the middle of his wife and him where he earlier was. He puts his slippers on and walks to the couch and other parts of the room where his son could potentially be sleeping. Carlos starts freaking out a bit when he does not find his son anywhere in his room.
"Amor wake up, I can't find Mateo" Carlos says with urgency in his voice as he nudges your shoulder to wake you up. You murmur something he can’t seem to hear so he jolts you once more.
“He may be in his room.” You say sleepily.
It hits Carlos that he hasn’t checked his son’s room yet. You and Carlos have gotten so used to Mateo sleeping with you guys every night, because he refuses to sleep in his bed, that Carlos forgot his son could be in his own room.
And sure enough, Mateo is sleeping peacefully is his own bed. Guess he grew out sleeping with mama and papa, Carlos thinks.
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lunas-side-anime-blog · 4 months
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NSFW JJK Icks bc being horny for fictional characters is embarrassing and I'm putting an end to it rn
(obvi the students are aged up to 21ish, minors should gtfo! also pls feel free to request some more funny/slice-of-life headcanons, I'm on break and so bored)
general jjk icks: HERE
(yuji, megumi, nobara, gojo, nanami, toji, yuta, inumaki, maki, choso)
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Yuji
the type of guy who will ask “do you wanna switch positions'' instead of just doing it. and consent is fair like he’s just checking if you're comfortable but he’ll get too ponderous about it? like he’ll be mumbling in your ear, “should we switch? maybe on your tummy? but wait didn’t you say you had a stomach ache earlier? ooh, we also need to wrap up in like ten I got a thing with megumi, maybe you can ride me rq and I’ll eat you out? which reminds me, what are we doing for dinner because-” like sir why are you dialoguing while inside me??😐
Megumi
keeps his socks on during sex. there, I said it. feel like he has bad blood circulation idk.
Nobara
pillow princess who won’t kiss you after going down on her. like dude, it’s your own taste and they just made you cum, give them a smooch tf😡
Gojo
has an established relationship with your genitalia. when he’s down there he'll talk to it casually and if you try to get him to stop he’s like, “can you bud out, me and your pussy/dick are having a moment here🤨” also feel like he’s the type to point out that you missed a spot while shaving when giving you head…😔
Toji
forgets the safeword like he’ll find it funny you're just shouting a random word out over and over again and he’s like “tf does pineapple have to do with thi-OH SHIT”
Nanami
has fallen asleep during sex so. many. times. you're gonna have to give him a five hour energy drink or something before a long night of sex. i don't believe any of that smut, you guys are just projecting bc i’m sorry this man is old and overworked👴🏼
Yuta
does the winnie the pooh thing (shirt on, no pants) and insists you guys do it under the covers. i think you guys have gotten walked in on once and he’s still traumtized :(
Inumaki
makes comments about your taste… he’ll just be like  “ur a lil watery today, u good?😛” JAIL why are are you taking notes?
Maki
will absolutely throttle your shit in the bedroom and then just roll over and fall asleep immediately. maki wouldn’t know aftercare if it sat on her face.
Choso
asks if you feel good like every three seconds. also think he’d have a cringe sex playlist to get you in the mood and it’s just like the weekend and old drake or something, but prob doesn't pay for spotify prenium so every once and a while there's an AD LMFAOOO
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roosterforme · 1 month
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Covering the Classics Part 2 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Anna knows her new coworkers want her to meet their friend Bob. But she's too hesitant, afraid to get herself in a situation where she's pining after someone new. During a spur of the moment shopping trip, Bob is delighted to bump into a woman he can only describe as adorable. Too bad he's never been great at the follow through.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+
Length: 3600 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!
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By the end of her first week teaching, Anna had learned many things, almost like she was a student herself. That nice, secluded ladies' restroom she found was secluded because one of the toilets regularly overflowed. The coffee in the teacher's lounge was actually disgusting, but the donuts were available every day. And Dr. Pham from the sociology department asked her out three times on Thursday, apparently because she wore her hair in two braids like Princess Anna from Frozen, a mistake she wouldn't be making again.
And she was so tired. She started to lose her voice on Friday morning from how much she had to talk in her lectures. She took the wrong notes to class with her and had to improvise an hour long class on Emily Dickinson, because she was too afraid to give one of her students the keys to her office door. So she sweated it out, but managed to sound somewhat coherent as she dismissed her class at noon.
She pressed her lips together. If she ran to get her sandwich and peanuts really quickly, she could join her new friends by the weird tree. After two days of joining them for lunch, she really liked both of them. She just didn't want to get their hopes up about their friend Bob whom she was supposedly perfect for.
Anna wasn't perfect for anybody. And frankly this Bob guy sounded like a dreamboat, which just made it worse. He'd probably laugh after taking one look at her, and if she opened her mouth and tried to talk to him, he'd run away scared. She already turned down their invitation to go to the Navy hangout bar on Saturday night, citing that she was too exhausted. But it was really because she needed to stand firm with herself and do everything she could to protect her feelings from now on. 
After another few seconds of contemplation, she went to her office and got her lunch before heading to the quad. But today it was just Jessica there eating lasagna and garlic bread from a plastic container while Anna's stomach growled in jealousy. 
"Hi," she greeted after she chewed up a bite of her perfect looking lunch. "It's just us today. Dr. Rosenthal apparently had a bunch of questions about the math curriculum and took Advanced Calculus out for a long working lunch at Covewood."
Anna had barely been in the city for more than two weeks, but even she had heard of Covewood. "That's a five star restaurant. A romantic date night hot spot."
"Mmhmm," Jessica agreed as she sunk her perfect teeth into the garlic bread.
Anna realized her own experience was fueling her next sentences, but she said them anyway. "Isn't she married? Her husband is okay with that?" she asked softly.
Advanced Physics burst into laughter. "Bradley loves Dr. Rosenthal. He's in his seventies, and he's one of the sweetest people at the school. They have him over for dinner sometimes. He actually did my tenure review."
"Oh," Anna replied, embarrassed that she could hardly relate to someone who trusted their spouse. "That actually sounds really nice."
"Hey, are you sure you don't want to come out tomorrow night? No pressure. I just think you'd have a fun time. The guys are all sweethearts."
Anna looked down at herself and her sad sandwich. She didn't even have money to spare for a beer that she would probably drink half of before she wanted to leave. And it didn't matter if the guys were sweet, she knew her two new friends would be champing at the bit to see how she and this Bob person interacted. "Not this weekend," she replied. "Maybe another night."
Instead of socializing, she spent her Saturday window shopping in North Park. She had a budget of exactly zero dollars, but she could entertain herself for hours this way. She gasped when she found a two story bookshop that claimed it contained new and used and rare finds, and she ran across the street to get to it. 
It was darker and quieter inside than the sunlit, traffic filled streets, and when Anna took a deep breath, it reminded her of a cozy library. The clerk behind the register waved instead of speaking, so really, it just kept getting better. When she noticed the wooden sign on the wall informing her that The Classics were upstairs, she made her way up the creaky steps to a loft area with row after row of tall shelves. 
"Perfect," she muttered, walking to the end of the open space and turning down the last tight row of bookshelves. She wasn't alone, but the only other occupant was a tall, slim man with broad shoulders and tidy, sandy colored hair. He seemed to be so absorbed by what he was reading, he didn't look up when Anna reached for an enormous copy of Shakespeare plays.
She almost moaned out loud; it was annotated and contained every play she had to teach in her Thursday morning English 300 class. It was well worn, and the cover felt nice in her hands. Shit. Of course it was seventy bucks. That was more than she spent on groceries last week. Maybe she could expense it to the department? She should probably know how to do that. Maybe she could text one of her new friends and ask if that was allowed. 
But she slid the book back into place as a Vonnegut she didn't yet own caught her eye. She reached out for it with a steady hand, but as soon as her fingertips met the spine, a much larger hand, complete with graceful yet calloused fingers, wrapped around hers. Everything suddenly smelled clean like soap and also intriguingly like tea leaves. And then she heard a voice next to her ear that made her bite down on her lip as a ripple of pleasure teased her spine. 
"Oh. I'm so sorry."
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Bob had never been to this store before, and he wasn't really planning on stopping by today, but Mickey dragged him in and then ditched him for the children's section at the back of the store. Bob looked around downstairs, but as a poetry fan, he found that section to be seriously lacking, so he headed up to the loft instead.
He considered himself well-read until he realized how many classic novels he'd never even heard of before. And they all sounded really depressing. Which was kind of the point, he supposed, but if he was going to get something new to read, he was in the mood for a more upbeat story. Maybe a romance or a European adventure he could get lost in. Maybe a sweeping, romantic tale where the nice guy gets the girl for once. 
After several tries, he still wasn't finding anything close to what he was hoping for. As he re-shevled The Bell Jar, he decided to just reach for a book at random. Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut? Maybe that would be more his speed. But when he reached for it, his fingers wrapped around a soft hand complete with glossy, burgundy fingernails instead of the actual book. He jumped an inch in the air, because he hadn't even been aware anyone else was in the aisle with him, let alone a woman who smelled like sweet perfume.
"Oh. I'm so sorry," he stammered, already mortified. Then she turned to look at him over her shoulder, and he wanted to jump off the loft railing and run out the shop door. There was only one word to accurately describe her: adorable. She had dark red hair done up in a messy braid, big brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. "Oh."
"It's okay," she replied softly as she tried to hand him the book. "You can have it."
He shook his head, completely distracted, as he kept finding more things about her face that he liked. A grin curled along his lips as he said, "No, it's all yours. Really. I was just looking for something new to read."
She glanced down at the cover and then back at his face, and maybe he was imagining things, but it looked like she was blushing a bit. "Wow. I wasn't really expecting anyone else to be interested in reading a sarcastic take on global destruction on a sunny Saturday afternoon."
His eyebrows shot up. "Is that what it's about?"
Her laughter was also adorable. "Yeah, I mean... it's Vonnegut," she said with a bit of an eye roll. Oh no. She knew what she was talking about, and he kind of didn't. He was probably about to sound like an idiot. 
Bob cleared his throat and pointed at a random spine to buy himself time. "What's this one about?"
She cocked her head slightly to the side and said, "Two murders and a kidnapping."
"Oh," he said with a little laugh. "No thanks. How about this one?"
He wasn't even looking at the books now at all, preferring to watch her facial expression change as she checked another title. "Oh, that one's good. Also about murder."
He chuckled and pointed at another. "This one?"
She smirked and looked up at him. "Jealousy, rage, hatred, and also a lot of murder."
"Wow," Bob replied with what he was sure was a stupid looking smile. "I was hoping for something a little tamer? Perhaps less murder-y? Maybe I should go down and look in the children's section?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and listened to her laugh again.
"I could recommend a few books with little to no murder. Maybe even a happy ending," she told him, and he watched as she pushed her braid over her shoulder. 
"I'll believe it when I see it," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. To his shock and amazement, her gaze followed his movement, and her blush returned.
When her tongue darted out between her lips, Bob could feel his heart beating in his temples. Her brown eyes drifted back up to his face, and he wondered if this was how Jake or Bradley used to feel when girls paid attention to them at the bar. It was decidedly really exciting. 
He was going to be bold like his friends. He was going to ask her for her number. Maybe he'd see if she wanted to help him shop for some books, and he could buy her that horrible Vonnegut that she wanted, and then he'd ask her very nicely for her number. 
"Floyd!"
Bob watched you jump as Mickey's voice echoed through the store.
"Floyd! Let's go!"
"S-Sorry," Bob muttered, stepping past her and heading for the loft railing. "Just... hang on for one second?"
As soon as Mickey looked up and saw him, he said, "We gotta go, man. I got some books for my nephews, but we'll be late to grab a drink before D&D if we don't leave now. You know how she gets when we're late." He was shaking a bag of books and heading for the door.
Bob did know for a fact that Jessica got annoyed when they showed up late because they got hungry or distracted on the way to The Hard Deck. "Just give me a minute," he told Mickey, but he was already outside. 
He swiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and turned around to find the aisle empty. Oh no. He checked the next row of shelves, and the next, and the next, until he got all the way to the stairs, but the adorable redhead was nowhere to be found. And he had no idea what her name was. 
"Hello?" he called out softly, checking each aisle again until he was back where he started. Bob might have believed that he imagined the whole entire exchange with an attractive woman, except that there was one book propped up against the others right where he and she had been standing. 
"A Room With a View by E. M. Forster," he mumbled as he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He glanced around again, but she was well and truly gone, leaving nothing except for what seemed like a book recommendation. 
"Floyd!"
Bob sighed and tipped his head back in frustration. "Coming!"
He descended the stairs slowly, head swiveling in every direction, searching for brown eyes and a braid while he held the book. Gone. He paid for A Room With a View and headed outside to find Mickey looking quite annoyed. What he didn't see was the mystery girl watching him from the far end of the loft.
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"She was real," Bob insisted as he held his glass of ginger ale a little tighter. "Just because you were too busy yelling doesn't mean I made her up in my mind. She had red hair and brown eyes."
Mickey gave him a skeptical look. "That's actually a really rare combination. And I know for a fact you happen to have an excellent imagination, my friend."
Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Why didn't I ask for her name and number?" Then he paused. "You know what? It doesn't even matter. There's no way she would have agreed to give it to me." 
He thought about the book he bought sitting on the front seat of his truck next to his dice bag and character sheet, and he considered just going home for the night. Maybe he could start to read the book. Maybe he'd feel like writing.
Then he felt an arm slip around his waist. "Hi, Jessica," he said as he blushed when he looked down at Jake's petite girlfriend. A second later, Bradley's wife was next to him as well, and Bob realized they were wearing matching smirks.
"Hey, Bob," Jessica replied, giving him a little squeeze. "We were just wondering if you happened to like redheads."
Mickey snickered before he tipped his beer bottle back and finished the drink. "He loves them. Daydreams about them."
Bob shot him a withering look. "She was real."
"Who was real?" Bradley's wife asked as her husband came up behind her and set his chin on her shoulder. Great, now he was going to have a full audience of people informed about his embarrassing afternoon of not even knowing how to ask a woman what her name was.
"There was a cute girl at the bookstore in North Park earlier," he muttered. "She had red hair, and I fumbled the ball."
Bradley chuckled. "You know what your problem is, right? You're too nice. Sugar met me when I was an absolute fuckboy, and she fell hard."
"I've been having a decade long lapse of judgement," she replied, and Bradley kissed her neck. "Don't listen to him, Bob. Girls love nice guys."
But Bob knew they didn't. Even the woman from the bookstore dodged him after approximately five minutes of flirting. If you could even call that flirting. He finished his ginger ale, and said, "We need to go. It's almost time for D&D. I'll drive."
Mickey nodded and said, "I'm ready." He could probably tell Bob had reached his limit with this conversation. His friend may be an extrovert to the extreme, but he was good at recognizing when Bob needed a break.
Jessica nodded as well and patted him on the chest before she pranced off into Jake's open arms. They shared the most adorable looking kisses before Jake straightened out her glasses and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Have her home by midnight, Bob!" he called as he released her. 
Bob nodded wishing there was someone besides the elderly woman who lived in the duplex next to him that cared if he was out past midnight or not. Even though he always looked forward to playing Dungeons & Dragons, he kind of wanted to head home and call it an early night. Nothing sounded as good as sending an email to Nat before reading his new book. But he would wait until later, and maybe he would even be in the mood to get his laptop out.
-----------------------
Anna went back to her studio apartment empty handed. Well, that wasn't quite true. She didn't buy any books, but she did splurge on a six dollar bottle of wine which would probably taste disgusting. She just hoped it would help her sleep through the night after reading some sad poetry and eating a piece of toast for dinner. 
That guy from the bookstore was going to linger in her mind for a long time whether she wanted him to or not. She was more attracted to him after five minutes in his presence than she was to Kevin at any point in the past five years. And if she was going to start thinking about Kevin, she was probably going to cry. 
The toast was good, but the wine was bad. And she did cry a little bit. She was never going to get attached to the idea of being in a relationship ever again. She was never going to have herself that level of intimacy just to have it ripped away. She wouldn't allow it. Relying on herself would have to be enough. Handsome strangers with muscular, veiny arms and cute glasses who made her laugh were not part of the plan. That's why she ducked behind the end cap after she left him a book she thought he might like. She watched him buy it for himself, which left her almost breathless. If she allowed herself to, she could picture him sitting in a coffee shop sipping some tea and reading that book.
"Enough," she whispered, vision a little sloppy from the wine. She opened up the website called PoetsAmongUs, read a bookmarked collection about how good it would feel to be loved completely, and passed out. 
The realization that she was going to have to spend all of Sunday afternoon getting ready for the week was made slightly easier by the fact that she only had four hundred square feet of space to clean. And then she thought about the beautiful home she once had in New Jersey, and she had to finish the bottle of wine to help her get through her notes on The Great Gatsby.
She was still thinking about that hot guy with the glasses on Monday when she grabbed a donut from the teacher's lounge. Indulging in a little fantasy here and there about being loved and cared for wouldn't be so bad. And putting his face to it just made it even sexier. When she wasn't teaching, she let her mind wander to some possibilities that would never happen again. Pretty eyes, lean muscles, soft looking hair, pink cheeks. He probably had nice friends, too. He probably never cheated on anything in his life.
"Hey, Anna? Are you alright?"
She looked up from her bag of peanuts and realized she'd been so deep in thought, she wasn't paying attention to the lunch conversation. "I'm sorry," she replied, fighting the urge to groan. She wasn't very good at this stuff and should have probably just eaten lunch in her office like she did the past few days. The fact that it was Wednesday and she was still distracted was concerning to her. 
"Don't apologize. You just seem lost in thought," said Jessica as she ate another perfect looking lunch. 
"Do you want some chips and hummus? Bradley packed me too much food today," her other friend said. And of course he did, because he sounded like a damn dream.
Anna ate a few chips and sighed. "Have either of you ever had your heart smashed to bits?" She didn't really mean to say that out loud, but now that she had, she was met with an awkward silence that she wanted to run away from. 
"Yeah," Advanced Calculus replied softly. "And I did it to myself."
"Not my heart as much as my hopes and dreams," Advanced Physics added. "But for me, I think that was much worse."
Now the silence that followed wasn't quite as painful, but Anna was still a little embarrassed. "Yeah. All of the above." She cleared her throat and tried to think of something else to talk about, but her mind was still on the bookstore. "Hey, why didn't you tell me that San Diego is full of hot guys? They are literally everywhere. I went window shopping in North Park and got sucked into a bookstore, and I bumped into a guy with glasses who smelled so nice."
"Ohhh, what did he look like?"
Anna sighed. "You know how you can just tell a guy is really strong even though he doesn't have bulging muscles?"
"Mmhmm."
"He was like that." Anna bit into her sandwich and chewed it slowly. "Pretty eyes, kind of the color of a lake. Sandy hair. Wire glasses. Soft spoken. He smelled like a cup of tea." 
A few seconds later, she was snapped back from her drifting thoughts as Advanced Calculus asked, "Did you say this was at a bookstore in North Park?"
"Yes," Anna replied with a nod. 
"Did you get his name?" Advanced Physics asked. 
"No," she answered, still embarrassed over the fact that she hid from him.
And then she thought she was going to get whiplash again.
"Was he about six feet tall?"
"Was he slim but not skinny?"
"Did he blush when he smiled?"
"Will you please come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"
--------------------------
Bradley is so proud of the fact that Sugar fell for him when they were in college. Beer Boy just gets better with age. This little Bob and Anna meet cute might spell disaster when they figure it all out! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 3
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sprout-fics · 9 months
Note
No bc I’ve been thinking about omega verse 141 and I want to know every single thought you have rattling around in ur beautiful head. I’m on my hands and knees begging 💕💕
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Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader Headcanons
(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)
(Part Three: Interest)
Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Omega discrimination, Slow burn
Masterlist
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Things are...different after you get back from the mission where your heat broke
Price has sworn the team to secrecy, but it doesn't do much good, because your designation gets revealed pretty quickly
You're told by the base medic that you are forbidden from continuing the suppressants who have been using, because of their extremely toxic side-effects. The same medic mandates you for a 3 month long detox period to completely flush the suppressants from your body before you can continue a more prescribed set
You're furious about it, but recognize that if you continue to hide your designation the way you've been doing, it could last with some very very negative side-effects, and you aren't exactly keen on having your comrades assist you through a heat again
Not because they weren't...good...but because it's just so damn fucking awkward. How the hell are you supposed to ask your COs to fuck you through a heat? Fuck. That.
Without your suppressants, you're forced to walk around base blaring your scent to anyone who passes by. It causes quite a stir, considering everyone thought you'd been a beta up until that point
It also means that you get a number of unwanted advances from those interested in an unclaimed omega. You manage to brush them off and chase them away for the most part, up until you don't
You get cornered after training by a group of soldiers who pick at you for hiding your designation, for being unclaimed, for being an omega
You feel your heart thump up your chest, trying to find a way to dart past them when a huge, looming shadow falls over you all
Ghost stares down at the group like they're insects. Displeasure and contempt written clear across his face. He barely needs to speak before the group is scampering off with tails tucked between their legs
Ghost doesn't advance where they have left space, merely nods at you and continues on his way
It's...startling and relieving all at once, and you realize quickly that the team is more than happy to provide scary guard dog privileges when you need them
It's Soap who tries to bridge the gap first. Soap offers advice about navigating as an omega, and even though he's claimed you find it's helpful to have a friend
That's the other thing though. You realize Soap is constantly sporting a healthy amount of alpha scent marking from not one but two alphas. It takes a bit to wrap your head around, but you suppose it makes sense with how close they all are
You ignore the tug in your stomach that wishes you had that too
Somehow the group has taken a liking to you, and at first you think it's purely sexual based off them helping you through your abrupt heat
Yet there's offerings to help you get adjusted. A pillowcase left in your locker that smells like one of them, one of them gently bumping you in the hallway to rub a dose of scent on you, getting used to sitting with one of them during meals to chase away unwanted courters
It's nice, you admit. You enjoy their company. Soap is lively and playful, Gaz is sweet and has wry humor that makes you smile. It's uncommon for you to eat with Price, but when you do there's a comfortable mentorship there that has your shoulders go a little lax in relief
Ghost is known to occasionally join you all, but you know the lieutenant prefers to eat in the privacy of his room. He makes up for it in other ways, looms behind you when you're facing down another group of alphas who have taken an interest in you, checking in on you from afar. Silent but present. Watching.
You find yourself slowly developing friendships with them all, smiling when you see them, opening up to them and realizing maybe there's more to their advances than you originally guessed
You think perhaps they want you too
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