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#big maybe /i/ need to use the sleep moment.
loupetlapinn · 2 days
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𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒖𝒙.
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t/w: noncon, dubcon, dacryphilia, coercion, stepcest, fingering, unprotected sex. a/n: MDNI. ageless blogs may be blocked. inspiration struck, started as simple head canons, i spiraled and brainrot was unavoidable. unbetad is my brand. synopsis: jeonghan is so perfect . . . if only everyone else knew the truth. ♫: praise. feel free to block me.
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Everybody thinks he’s such a good older brother. He likes to dote on you, always making sure you’ve eaten and staying hydrated, making sure you’re okay, if you need anything— the whole nine yards. Brother of the year fucking award would go to him if everybody who knew him had a say.
“I wish I had a brother like that,” your friends would always gush and whine about how lucky you were to have a big brother like Jeonghan.
“He’s so perfect,” they would say, all dreamy eyed— they loved coming over to your house to gawk and babble about how hot your step brother is. “And he’s so thoughtful!”
“You’re so lucky, Y/N.”
When in reality it couldn’t be further from the truth. You dreaded the very mention of your step brother. He was impossible to escape, from daily life, family life, even your fucking social life somehow.
Any complaints you may even try to voice are immediately met with, “You shouldn’t say things like that about your brother, he’s only looking out for you.”
It’s unavoidable, it’s like you can never escape him. And he loves it all. Always painting himself so perfectly, a perfect son even to his step mother, a perfect brother, always fitting himself in the picture perfect mold of your picture perfect family.
“I think your brother might be an angel,” your friends would giggle behind their hands at sleep overs and kick their feet. A fallen angel maybe, you’d think as you bury yourself under Downy scented blankets.
Little did they know that he was anything but. He was the bane of your existence, you hated him. Resenting him, everything about him. His stupid perfect face, his patronizing laugh, you knew why everyone believed the mask he puts on. He played his part so well.
You knew what was beneath this well constructed mask. It freaked you out, just how easily he could flip at the drop of a hat. It was psychotic, he must be with how violently different he is behind closed doors when he gets you alone. He’s always guilting you, goading you, coaxing you. Annexing you off from your potential exits.
“What? You want mom and dad to find out how fucking disgusting you are, Y/N? Creaming all over your big brother’s fingers. Begging for me,” his words had your head reeling. Using this dirty secret to his advantage, like it was your fault he would force himself upon you. He likes to tell you as much nearly every single time. “How many times is that now?”
Your knuckles blanch, fisting the sheets beneath you writhe under his wicked attentions. Noises falling past your lips as his thumb finds your swollen and abused clit, pulsing around the rest of the slender digits shoved inside your sopping heat.
“I asked you a question,” he hisses, hand pulling away to slap at your core. The noise it produces is absolutely filthy with a wet smack, thighs flexing as your instinctive response is to press them together but you manage to keep yourself from doing so. Knowing Jeonghan would only drag out your torture for such a slip up.
“T-three…. Three? … ‘s three,” your words are barely strung together coherently.
Jeonghan loves playing with you like this. You’re nothing but a toy for him to play with when he’s bored. And unfortunately for you, he gets bored easily. “That’s what you are,” he had said numerous instances prior to this exact moment. When he first started using you as he pleases, “That’s what little sisters are for. Now be a good little toy and behave for me.”
“So messy,” he muses, eyes trained on the way your pussy sucks his fingers in with every orgasm he pushes upon you. “I haven’t even put my dick in yet and you’re already like this.”
His hand presses on, drilling you further as you try and earn his mercy.
“No more, please,” your voice far away and quiet as your body quakes from the stimulation he provides.
“No more?” he asks incredulously, a brow arching as he looks at you down through his nose. “Now that’s not fair, I haven’t even gotten to cum yet. What would mom and dad say about you being such a selfish little slut? Using me to get off.”
“You filthy fucking pervert, using your big brother’s fingers to cum,” he’s ruthless. You were sure your older stepbrother was a demon— if not the devil himself. “Look at the sheets, they’re soaked.”
“Should I tell them?” his voice slithering its way into your psyche. “Tell them how you couldn’t help yourself, that you make your big brother help you get off like this?” He loves flipping everything, pinning the blame all on you. “Who would believe that you didn’t want it, huh? You give it up so easily,” his past words always echoing in your mind in addition to his present ones.
It’s always your fault. By now, you can’t help but believe his fucked up words.
“N-no, no, please, Jeonghan,” your whimpering out, tears forming and trickling downwards. Humiliated at the idea of anyone finding out what goes on between the two of you. “I’m sorry, please.”
“I don’t know . . . I don’t think you’re very sorry,” he feigns uncertainty, mock hurt lacing every word. “Maybe I should just . . .” Trailing off, he knows the spike of anxiety that grips you. Leaving your mind to run amuck with worst case scenarios.
“N-no, you— y-you can cum too,” you snivel, bottom lip quivering as you start blubbering.“You need to cum too!”
“Yeah?” He cant help the scoff that follows with they way your so easily manipulated into doing whatever he wants. Fulfilling his every fucked up whim.
“Beg,” says he. “Beg to help me cum,” he eggs you on, “Beg to help me feel good, that’s only fair.”
“Please,” you plead over and over again as his thumb picks up the pace once more. “Please, please, please— Please, cum. Please, I-I can help you feel good. Please.”
“There you go,” he purrs, sheathing his throbbing cock fully inside of your drenched cunt as you cry for him. He’s kissing away at your tears oh so tenderly. “Because that’s what you’re made for, right, Y/N?”
“It’s what I’m made for,” you repeat instinctively amidst your haze, crying out with a particularly sharp thrust.
At the end of the day, you were always going to be wrapped around his finger.
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elizabethsnuts · 20 hours
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Hey! Can i have a request with aaron hotchner where Jack sleep at a friend house and his little sister just miss him so much, and hotch do anything to make her happy
Big Brother
Aaron Hotchner x Daughter!Reader
Summary: Jack is away at a sleepover and his absence is hitting you hard, your daddy is there to cheer you up though.
———
To say you were upset was probably an understatement. Jack had gone away to a friend's house for a sleepover, leaving just you and Aaron for the night. As much as you loved your dad which was very much, you missed your big brother.
You sat at the front door like you did when Aaron took too long on a case and you wanted him to come back sooner. You were hoping that if you stared long enough, he’d just come through the door.
Aaron walked over to you, crouching down to your level and stroking your damp hair. He had just finished bath time and getting you into your PJs before he noticed you were gone from your room.
“Sweetheart, Jack won’t be back till the morning,” Aaron said gently, moving his hand to rub your back.
“Want Jack. Jack gone.” You mumbled, snuggling your pink blankie tight to your chest for comfort.
Aaron shook his head and turned you to face him. He had an idea to help you take your mind off about not being able to see Jack. “He’s not gone forever, Y/N. Don’t worry, he’ll be back tomorrow I promise. How about we play tea party? Just like you and Jack do?”
You thought for a moment and nodded your head. You loved playing tea party, you made everyone play tea party, it was your favourite. “Okay, we play tea party.”
Aaron smiled and picked you up, kissing your head. He walked up the stairs into your room, setting you down on your two feet. You immediately ran over to your sparkly dress-up box and put on a tiara, you also grabbed your favourite stuffed animals.
Aaron looked at you and smiled again. “I see we have lots of friends here for the tea party.”
You nodded enthusiastically and giggled as you set your stuffed animals around the plastic table. “Yes! Everyone needs some tea.”
Aaron noticed that you had left two chairs empty, he raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Why are you leaving two chairs?”
You smiled again, your little, white, baby teeth showing. “That Jack’s chair, we need to keep him a spot while he gone.” You looked at the second empty chair and set up a cup on a plate in front of it. “This Mamas chair! She always here for tea parties.”
Aaron nodded slowly, he found it bittersweet that you still kept a chair for Haley. “Oh, I see. That’s very nice of you to save them their chairs.”
The tea party carried on as it should, you dressing up like a princess and pouring everyone their tea and biscuits. You loved playing with your daddy.
When it came to bedtime, you weren’t exactly the most cooperative. “No Daddy! Need to give Jack bedtime hug!” You cried.
Aaron hugged you tight and gently rocked you in his arms. “Shh, Shh, Shh, I know you do honey but he’s not here right now. Maybe if we gave each other a big enough hug, he’d feel it too?” He was trying everything to get you to calm down.
You hugged Aaron tightly, hoping that Jack missed you just as much as you missed him. “Do you think he miss us too?”
Aaron nodded and smiled. “Yep, I know he misses us. He told me on the way there about how much he’s going to miss us.”
You smiled and settled down in your crib, snuggling into your blankie. “He come back tomorrow?”
Aaron turned on your music box and nodded. “Tomorrow morning.” He smiled and kissed your head, turning out the lights. “Good night, Y/N.”
You blew Aaron a kiss and giggled. “Night night Daddy!”
Aaron left the room with a small smile, he was glad you got along with Jack so much. The two of you were best buds and he hoped it’d stay that way as the two of you grew older.
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Me: It's only 10 pm.... I don't need to sleep yet if that's only I couple thousand words I could eat that.
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miodiodavinci · 1 year
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(head in hands) man.
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sttoru · 2 months
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. staying at your boyfriend’s house for the first time is nerve wracking. though luckily satoru understands your situation all too well.
wc. around 870
tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, teeny tiny bit suggestive implications. reader is implied to be a virgin + has no experience dating. satoru being a gentleman hehe. nicknames used ‘sugar, sweetheart’. not beta read.
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“are you sure?” you ask your lover who’s making himself comfortable on the couch. satoru sits down and gives you a reassuring smile. he adjusts the blue blanket he’s covering himself with before responding.
“mhm. a hundred percent,” he nods and reaches for your hand. his thumb brushes over your knuckles in a soothing manner. his blue eyes glow with the purest form of love—pure unadulterated love for you.
it’s your first time staying over at your boyfriend’s. it’s nerve wracking for some reason. maybe because you have all kinds of ideas running through your head about how your night could possibly go.
the thought about possible intimacy is scary, because you’re not sure if you’re actually prepared. you had set your mind to it on your way to his house; you will be ready if satoru asks to take things further. for his sake. .
but, when the time had come, nothing happened. you expected at least something to happen. he’s kissed you as per usual, however more than that has not occurred. perhaps it’s your own fault for trying to predict what will happen.
though how can you not? you assumed that if a boyfriend and girlfriend spend the night together, they’ll surely do something more. at least you think that’s what happens most of the time. with other couples that is.
you should’ve known by now that satoru doesn’t compare to other men. especially not to the college boys your age—who only want to hit and move on. satoru is serious about your relationship. committed.
“what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, sugar?” satoru’s smooth voice interrupts your thoughts. you clear your throat and shake your head, dismissing your own tendencies to overthink every little thing.
his big hands cover both of yours completely. they’re warm. nice to hold. the older man lifts your hands up to his lips and kisses your palms. you sigh and finally relax after what feels like hours, “nothing, ‘toru.”
nothing, you say. little did you know that satoru has long noticed what’s wrong. you’re easy to read—your body language reveals every little thing you’re feeling.
you subconsciously had your fists clenched at your sides the second you stepped into his apartment. you’ve been avoiding eye contact more than usual and you keep nibbling on your bottom lip. those were all the signs he needed.
satoru knows you well enough to realise that you’re overly nervous. he understands why. it’s your first time staying overnight at a man’s house—your boyfriend’s house.
satoru’s sure you’re thinking that he’ll ask you to sleep with him. it’s obvious. each time he kisses you, you tense up. you normally get flustered, though today you’re more than just nervous.
he doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable. he doesn’t want you to think that he’ll do anything you’re not ready for. the last thing satoru would do is take advantage of this precious moment. of his precious girl.
it’s also why he suggested to sleep on the couch. he figured that you’ll be less nervous if you have the bed to yourself. all he wants is for you to relax around him.
“may i?” satoru whispers. his warm breath caresses your hands and you instantly give your consent to whatever he wishes to do. the older man thanks you quietly before putting his forehead against yours.
you look into each other’s eyes and you’re once again stunned by the beauty of his blue orbs. satoru brushes his knuckles over your cheek, adoring just how adorable you look from up close, “it’s okay, yeah? i won’t ask you to do anything. i promise.”
you blink. it’s only then that the realisation dawns upon you. no wonder satoru has immediately noticed your nervous demeanour. he’s always so perceptive of how you feel. it’s quite heartwarming.
those comforting words are all you need. you smile brightly and hug satoru out of reflex. you hear a giggle escape his lips before he returns the gesture. his strong arms wrap around your form and he squeezes you to his chest.
“aww, there’s my baby,” satoru coos. he’s happy that he’s finally succeeded at calming you down. he’s also happy that he got your usual self back. he tenderly kisses the top of your head.
you lift your head up to get some air. satoru’s tight embrace and familiar scent nearly suffocated you—not that you would mind going out like that. you kiss his cheek, “thank you for being so. . err, patient and understanding.”
your boyfriend shakes his head with a soft smile playing across his lips. satoru leaves a trail of ticklish pecks down your face until he reaches your lips. after waiting for your usual sign - a faint nod - he captures them in a gentle kiss.
he pulls away after a few seconds, though stays close to your face. you’re filled with an incredible feeling of warmth because of satoru’s obvious adoration for you. pure content.
he lets out a breathy laugh at your cute, flustered expression. he pulls you in for a hug again and presses your head against his chest, “heh, no, i should thank you for trusting me. i love you s’much.”
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theminecraftbee · 3 months
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"So, and I can't believe I have to be the guy to point this out," Doc starts hesitantly.
"Terrible start! Go on," Cleo says.
"But you seem to be one of the only sane people left right now," Doc continues.
"Even more terrible, although I appreciate your delusion," Cleo says.
"And I have to--you know, if you're going to make fun of me for bringing you a problem maybe I just won't. I can solve it myself. I basically solved the moon thing myself," Doc says. "I am trying to be responsible before this turns into a whole thing."
"Doc, you came to me. Did you want anything that wasn't me making fun of you? Because you know, if so, I really feel bad for you. I already feel bad enough for you that you think you actually managed to do anything at all about the moon thing."
Doc throws his hands up. "I am trying to warn you the ocean is evil! It's important! This is important!"
"The deep sea being evil isn't new," Cleo starts, "I was building Atlantis last season--"
"It sent, sent, salmon people to kill me!"
Cleo stops. They look Doc in the eyes. They search for any signs of deception at all. It's a little hard to tell, on account of Doc only having one eye even capable of expressiveness, and his face being the opposite of human, but...
"What?" Cleo says dumbly.
"It was like, like, Beef and Skizz, they were crazy! They were talking about a giant fish and how I shouldn't defy it. And I was like, what is a Big Salmon? I don't know, man, but they're ocean mobsters. And then I started looking. It's not just them. It's not just them Cleo, it's everyone. The ocean, man, it's evil, it's getting everyone. I've, I've made a list. Grian. Have you looked at Grian lately?"
"I think if we were worried about every time Grian got possessed then we wouldn't have any free time," Cleo says hesitantly.
"Right, right, but it was supposed to be Demise. The killing each other, all of the killing each other. I thought, oh, that'll get it out of their systems. But it's not just him Cleo! It's--have you seen Gem? She's all, oh, I will build a boat. Oh, I'll provoke the creatures of the deep. And then. Do you know what I saw all of Team ZITS doing? Fishing!"
"Doc," Cleo says, increasingly concerned for him. He looks... disheveled.
"And not just fishing, oh no. They were standing in the water fishing! And Pearl! Have I mentioned that Pearl is dressing up as a salmon? I mentioned that, yes? The salmon Pearl?"
"You hadn't, unless that was the big fish thing," Cleo says.
"No, that was something different, I think Pearl is maybe a different salmon."
"Sure, okay, more than one salmon, that makes sense," Cleo says dryly.
"And everyone, they are fishing each other around the ocean, yes? Etho is in the ocean! XB is in the ocean! I think I saw Joe crawl out of the ocean earlier, he was all wet and haunted! Surely that is a sign the ocean is evil."
"No, he's just like that," Cleo says. "Also, I did the fishing rod thing too. I think it's just... normal fun."
"They're getting you too. My assessment that you're the sane one. I've said too much."
"I think you need sleep," Cleo says. "Doc, there isn't an ocean-based conspiracy. It's the start of the season. You know we're just like this."
"That's the thing, I can't sleep," Doc says. "I can't. I sleep and I see it. I see it, lurking beneath the waves. It's calling for me Cleo. It's calling. And when it calls, it seems so--kind. But then. But then! I wake up, and I remember the shape of it, and..."
Doc shudders and stops talking. Cleo looks at him a moment longer and then, like comforting a nervous animal, takes his shoulder.
"You should take a nap. It's the start of the season. You're over-stressing yourself. Too much too fast?" they say, as soothingly as possible.
"It's coming for us," Doc says. "It's coming. I don't want to ignore it this time, yes? What's coming for us. We should--we should--"
"Even if it is, Doc, I don't think we can fight the ocean. Come on. Maybe sleeping in my base will help reset your brain."
Doc shudders, but lets Cleo guide him inside. They watch until at last he falls asleep fitfully before shaking their head and sighing.
"A giant fish that was trying to kill him. Honestly. I don't know where he gets these things from. Always a conspiracy with him..."
They decide to go to Ren. Ren knows how to humor Doc. Surely they can get in their ridiculous games again, and Doc will forget all about this. Doc would enjoy the Ministry of Ministries. Maybe he can be an anarchist or something. That would be good for him.
Doc cries out in his sleep. Cleo turns to him.
Then again, they have this strange sinking feeling in their stomach. Doc's... awfully worked up.
But it's Doc.
Surely it's nothing.
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soaps-mohawk · 3 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful
Summary: You have a long weekend that ends rather unexpectedly. Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. 
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, some brief violence at the end.
A/N: I'm in a bit of a crisis so you're getting a bonus chapter this week. It's a beefy one and I wrote like 90% of it yesterday, just had the brain sludge by the time I was close to finishing and decided to rest before I finished and edited. Things are starting to get a big suggestive here, so as a reminder, this fic will have NSFW content in later chapters so please do not interact with it if you are under 18. I'd hate to have to block you.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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“How are you settling in?” 
“Fine.” You shrug. 
“Any instinct to nest at all?” 
You shake your head. “No.” 
“That’s fine.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down. “It’s only been just over a week. Have you started kneeling for Captain Price yet?” 
You shake your head again. “No.” 
Dr. Keller tilts her head. “Why not?” 
You shrug again. “He hasn’t brought it up.” 
“Is that something you’d like to start doing?” 
Her question catches you off guard again. You’re not used to being asked what you want, afterall you’re an omega. That’s not important. You’re here to serve. To do as you’re told. You remember watching your mother kneel for your father while he watched TV, her dazed, glazed over eyes staring at nothing as he almost seemed to hypnotize her into the shell of a perfect omega. It was your first taste of truly how much power alphas could hold over omegas. One hand on the back of your neck and it’s over. 
“I...I don’t know.” You say, picking at your sleeve. 
“You’re allowed to want things too.” Dr. Keller leans forward just slightly, giving you a smile. “I highly doubt Captain Price will make much of a fuss if you ask for something you need. He cares about you. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here alone.” She tilts her head at you, watching you pick at your sleeve. “Is there anything you want or maybe need that you haven’t asked for?” 
Softer blankets. A fluffier pillow. Different body wash and shampoo. New clothes. A picture or a poster or something to make your room seem less clinical. Your instincts to finally start kicking in. Price to want you as much as he’s supposed to. Ghost to like you. To go back in time and let Soap kiss you. 
To go back in time and never present as an omega. 
“No.” You finally answer, shaking your head. “I’m fine.” 
Dr. Keller stares at you for a long moment. You avoid her gaze, picking at the seam of your sleeve. “I know you’re going to get tired of me saying this, but it’s important that you understand that this is a safe space for you. Everything that we discuss, everything that you say in here stays between you and me. Doctor-patient confidentiality is something I firmly believe in, even when it comes to alpha/omega relationships. Okay?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” You say quietly, still avoiding her gaze. 
She continues to stare at you for a moment before she leans back on the couch again, shuffling some papers around. “The two betas, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish. How are you getting along with them?” She continues with her questions.
“Fine.” You lean back in your chair, hoping it might swallow you whole. “They’re easiest to get along with.” 
Dr. Keller nods. “Good. I’m a strong advocate for organic pack bonding. Helps avoid any dynamic struggles or false instincts down the line. How are you sleeping?” 
“Fine I guess.” You shrug. “I nap a lot.” 
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Omegas need a lot of sleep and I can imagine adjusting to a new schedule has been rough.” Dr. Keller moves the papers to the couch next to her, looking up at you. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” 
You hesitate, pulling at the seam of your sleeve. It’s beginning to unravel a bit from your nervous picking. You’ll have to fix it. Dr. Keller is right, though. You could just ask for a new one. Price had told you they had a budget for your needs, plus they do get paid well. Anything you needed, they would gladly get for you. 
You just have to ask. 
It’s the asking that you’re not sure you can do. It feels strange to ask anything of your new pack. They’re supposed to be the ones needing things from you. If Soap had wanted to kiss you, he could have. Instead he left it up to you. He let you decide. You wonder if Price’s hesitation to move forward has been because he’s waiting on you. 
They’re all waiting on you, except maybe Ghost. They’re waiting on you to make the first moves, on you to set the pieces on the board. What is the first move? How do you set the pieces? Did you even need to? Would they fall into place organically if you just left them alone? Or would the tension continue to build up, would you continue to affect them until it became too much and the pressure causes everything to blow? 
“I’m affecting them.” You say, the words slipping out before you can stop them. 
Dr. Keller tilts her head as she stares at you. “What do you mean?” 
“They’re soldiers. They’re good soldiers with years and years of training, that’s why they're here. But...but I’m changing that. I asked Price if I could go with them and watch them run a training course cause I read in a book that I should get to know them and the things they like and so I was just curious what they do during the day when I’m not with them. He let me watch and he told me their top speeds running the training course but...none of them met those times with me there.”
You take a deep breath, the words pouring out of you easily now. You feel as if you’re not even thinking of them, not even measuring them or using caution as you normally would in any conversation. They’re slipping out from somewhere deep inside and now that you’ve opened that dam, you can’t stop it. 
“Price made them run through it five times and they still couldn’t match their top speeds. He said it was a good thing that they figured that out, that they need to know how I’m affecting them and how to adjust to me. And every time they ran through it, I couldn’t stop thinking about...” 
You take another breath, the air catching in your lungs. Your fingers are shaking, your body sinking deeper and deeper into the chair, almost as if you’re trying to get it to swallow you whole. As if the chair might wrap its arms around you and pull you into its softness and keep you there until you can’t breathe and it suffocates you. 
“What if it was me? What if they were having to rescue me? I know that’s a risk, a low one, but it’s still a risk. The CIA and Kate warned me that I could become a target if the wrong person found out about me. That’s why I can’t know anything about what they do because that puts me at more of a risk, and I could be a threat to them and the entire world if something got out that wasn’t supposed to.” 
You’re breathing heavily as the words finally come to a stop. Dr. Keller’s eyes are shining with sympathy as she stares at you. This is the most you’ve ever opened up to her, the most words you feel you’ve ever spoken to her in the two times now that you’ve met.
It feels good. It feels really good to voice your thoughts and your fears to someone on the outside, someone you can trust won’t tell anyone. You couldn’t voice these fears to your pack. They’re used to this kind of thing. They live with the knowledge they could die at any point, that any mission might be their last. How many lives have they seen lost, how many close calls have they had? You’ve seen scars already on arms, hands, faces. How many others are hidden where you can’t see? 
How many scars do they have inside, too? 
“I want you to know that your fears are very valid.” Dr. Keller says, her voice soft. “Being involved in the military comes with a lot of risks, and then you get to places like this and those risks only get greater and greater. I can’t promise you that something like that won’t ever happen, because we have no way of knowing. The risk is not zero for a reason.” 
Dr. Keller stands from the couch, moving to the chair next to you. The calming beta scent washes over you, and you know you have to be stinking up the room. She turns the chair slightly to face you, leaning forward onto her knees. You can see the imprints on the sides of her nose from where she’d been wearing glasses earlier. 
“That risk is also only low for a reason. Your identity has been well hidden, just like those of your pack’s. You’re on a well protected and secure military base. This place is a black square on Google Maps. I know, I tried looking it up when I found out where I was being assigned.” She reaches out, squeezing your arm gently. “And I highly doubt your pack would ever let anything happen to you. Packs are highly protective over their omegas. Even bad alphas can’t fight that instinct when their pack is threatened. Your pack would quite literally go to war for you.” 
She is right, you know she is. Yet that fear continues to wiggle at the back of your mind. You know they’d never let anything happen to you, but they’re going to start leaving soon. What if something happens while they’re not here? Who will help you then? The other soldiers? The betas that stare and the alphas that catcall you? 
“I guess you’re right.” You say, continuing to pick at your sleeve. At this rate, by the time your heat starts, you’ll have unraveled the whole sweatshirt.  
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The buzz of your phone on your nightstand pulls you from your half asleep state. Your book is on the floor, having dropped from your hands and slid off your bed as you drifted off. Your lamp is still on, casting a warm glow around your room. You prefer the softer light compared to the fluorescent overhead, as most omegas do. There’s something too clinical and sterile about fluorescents. 
You grab your phone, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you try to blink the sleepiness away. It’s not terribly late, but you’ve been feeling the exhaustion all day since your conversation with Dr. Keller. 
“Be ready by 0500 tomorrow. Wear something meant for the outdoors.” 
It’s a text from Price, your brow furrowing as you read it over. Five in the morning on a Saturday? That’s the earliest you’ve had to get up since your arrival on base. And wear something meant for the outdoors? You can only imagine what he has planned for the day you had been planning on spending sleeping. 
You make a quiet noise of indignation as you text back in confirmation, setting an alarm so you can be ready by 5 am. Not up by 5 am, ready by 5 am. You have half a mind to call him, or to text back asking why he feels you need to be up before the sun. You know that’s the normal time they begin their mornings during the week, usually when you hear them up and moving around, getting ready to go work out. That’s usually when you roll over and go back to sleep for another hour and a half before your own alarm gets you up for breakfast. 
You pout a little as you set your phone back on your nightstand, reaching down to grab your book and set it next to your phone. You lay back down on your bed, turning off your lamp and bathing the room in darkness. Well, it’s not totally dark. The light from the lamp outside shines in your window, casting cold shadows across the walls and floor. You’ve never been a fan of total darkness. You’d grown used to having some light in the room at The Institute. One of your roommates had insisted on having a nightlight, and there were many nights you were grateful for it as you laid awake at the mercy of your racing mind. 
A nightlight. 
You add it to the mental list of things you want, but you’ll never feel brave enough to ask for. 
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Your alarm rings too early in the morning, your hand lifting to silence it quickly. 4:30 am doesn’t feel like a real time as you rise in darkness, hand fumbling for the switch to your lamp. You glare into the dimly lit room, trying to blink the sleepiness from your eyes. How desperately you want to curl back up under the blankets and sleep until someone knocks on the door to check on you because you’ve slept so long into the day. 
You don’t doubt Price will knock in about 30 minutes to get you up. He’ll be disappointed if you ignore him, you think. He wouldn’t punish you if you went against his wishes, would he? 
You don’t know that. 
You haven’t even thought to push that boundary, nor have you discussed it. You don’t want to. You’re a good omega. 
You’re a good omega. 
You repeat it over and over as you get yourself ready, splashing cold water on your face to wake yourself up. You silently thank Kate as you pull on a pair of cargo pants and hiking boots, assuming that’s what Price means by “something meant for the outdoors.” Had she bought the items in anticipation of something like this happening? You are on a military base. You should have expected you’d be pulled into something like this eventually. 
You’re debating on a jacket by the time the knock comes, right at 5 am. You wonder how long Price has been standing in the hallway, or if he’s perfected arriving right on the dot after years of expected punctuality. You decide on the jacket after checking the weather, slipping it on as you open the door. He hadn’t mentioned needing anything, not that you own any sort of supplies for the outdoors anyway. 
He doesn’t say anything as you open the door, instead motioning with his head to follow. You quietly close your door, expecting the others to be waiting for you, but their doors are all closed and they’re nowhere to be seen. You feel slightly nervous as you follow Price out into the cold morning air, glad you decided on the jacket as your breath steams from your lips. 
Price is dressed in his usual boots and cargo pants with a cargo jacket and a beanie instead of a bucket hat. There’s two packs leaning against the side of the building, Price grabbing one and approaching you. 
“What are we doing?” You ask quietly as he helps you put on the backpack, buckling it across your chest. 
“Going for a hike.” He says, putting on the other backpack. 
“Why?” You ask as he turns on a flashlight, handing it to you before turning on another one for himself. 
“I’ll explain when we get there.” He says simply, motioning for you to follow him. 
You hesitate for half a moment. A hike in the dark? The base is surrounded by forest, but you sometimes forget due to the sprawling nature of the buildings, and your usual ventures outside the barracks being to either the mess or the medical center, all of which were central on the base. 
Why does he feel the need to hike in the dark? Surely it’s more dangerous, especially for someone not quite so physically inclined like you. If he wanted to go on a hike, why hadn’t he just said that to begin with? Maybe he would have, had you asked why last night instead of just immediately agreeing. 
Going into the woods alone in the dark with an alpha you barely know. 
Anxiety twists in your stomach for a moment before you force your feet forward, walking fast to catch up to him. He leads you down one of the roads on base, your boots crunching as the ground changes from asphalt to gravel. Your anxiety doesn’t lessen any as the trees loom high above you in the darkness, the forest like a black void before you. 
Your brain thinks up all the land predators that might exist in England. Do they have bears? You’ve seen Brave, but that’s in Scotland. What about big cats like cougars or mountain lions? Are there racoons in England? 
You’re on a military base, you think. Surely they have means to keep out large predators that might be dangerous. 
Your pack won’t let anything happen to you. 
Dr. Keller’s words float through your mind as you follow Price through the underbrush and into the trees. You’re not following any path, at least that you can see, though your experiences in the outdoors have been very limited since you left home. Your dad liked to camp and hike, and often you and your siblings were subjected to his weekend and holiday trips into the wilderness. 
You missed them in the early days at the Institute. You missed a lot of things back then. 
“What’s eating you back there?” Price asks as you weave through trees and underbrush. 
“There’s nothing...dangerous out here...is there, sir?” You ask, narrowly avoiding taking a branch to the face. “Bears or mountain lions?” 
Price chuckles. “The worst thing you might find is a stray badger or a snake that got through the fence somehow.” 
“Oh.” You say, shining the flashlight around you. “That’s good.” 
Price stops, turning to face you. “You’re fretting.” 
“Well, we’re in the woods in the dark at an ungodly hour and you won’t tell me why, sir.” You pout. 
“Do you trust me?” He asks, staring down at you with a hard look in his eyes. 
You stare up at him, your grip tightening on the flashlight in your hand. “Should I trust you?” 
He straightens up a bit, the corner of his lips twitching. “That’s something you have to decide.” He turns back around, starting to walk again. “All I can do is my best to try and prove myself to you. In the end, you’re the one that decides if I’m trustworthy or not.” 
You’ve never thought of it that way. He could do everything in his power to get you to trust him, but in the end it is your decision. He hasn’t proven you wrong yet, but then again...it’s only been a week. You’ve known him for a week and you’re following him through the woods alone in the dark. 
Your brothers would have a fit if they saw you right now. 
“Do you trust me?” You find yourself asking as you continue to trek through the woods, narrowly avoiding hurting yourself on various occasions. 
“You haven’t given me reason not to.” He answers, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. “I’d prefer it stayed that way.” 
“I don’t think you have to worry about that, sir. I hardly think I’m much of a threat on any term. Well, at least I don’t think I am. Ghost seems to disagree.” 
Price lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head. “Simon...Simon is a unique case. He’s good at his job, but that makes it hard for him to succeed in other areas. I’m sure Johnny has told you how much Simon couldn’t stand him at first. Now look at them.” He chuckles warmly, almost fondly. “He only sees you as a threat in your nature.” 
You frown, glancing up at the sky. It’s beginning to turn grey with dusk, the trees seeming to come alive around you in the dim light. “What do you mean by that, sir?” 
“You’re an omega. To bond with an omega, there is a degree of vulnerability required by the alpha. Being around omegas requires an openness that can be frightening if you’re not used to it.” He explains. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Simon isn’t the most open man.” 
You snort quietly. “Hadn’t noticed, sir.” 
Price chuckles at your answer. “You’re threatening to him, because you’re a challenge. Give him time. This entire situation is an adjustment for all of us, just as I’m sure it is for you too.” 
You don’t know how to respond to that statement. It is an adjustment. Joining any pack was, but a pack like this...a pack that has you tramping through the woods at 6 am for a reason you don’t even know yet is a major adjustment. 
Price stops after the sun has come up, taking a moment next to an outcropping of rocks. He clips your flashlight to your bag before unzipping it, passing you a bottle of water. You take it gladly, your mouth feeling dry after walking for so long. 
“How much further?” You ask as he drinks his own water. 
“Quite a ways.” He answers. 
“Can I know why we’re doing this yet?” You ask as he zips your water back into your backpack. 
“Not yet.” He says, continuing onward.
You let out an exasperated sigh, but follow him anyway. You don’t have much of a choice. 
Your legs are beginning to get tired, and you’re starting to feel a bit hungry. You’re not sure if you should say anything, or if he’d even stop. You assume he’s packed food, or at least you hope so. You’re going to get grumpy if you’re traversing all over the forest for hours with nothing to eat. 
Price slows his pace a bit as you approach what you think is a clearing. You can see a break in the trees ahead, the sun coming through brighter here. You’re sore and tired, your phone telling you you’ve been walking for just over two hours. 
How big is this base?
You break through the treeline, finding a small clearing with what looks like a fire watch tower in the middle of it. It’s not what you were expecting, the many scenarios of why you had been dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour and forced to hike through the woods you’ve been thinking up the last two hours, did not end quite like this. You stare up at the tower, your head tilting back to take it in. 
“Not scared of heights, are you?” Price asks, standing beside you. 
“Maybe.” You answer, eyeing the staircase winding around it to get to the top. 
“Come on.” He says, nudging you forward gently. “Up the stairs.” 
The last thing you want to do after walking for two hours is climb a never ending staircase, but you don’t think you have much of a choice. Perhaps you can finally sit once you get to the top, and maybe you’ll even get to eat. 
Price follows behind you as you take the steps, climbing slowly. Your legs are screaming, your feet aching in your boots. You wouldn’t be surprised if they’re bleeding a little, or if you wind up with blisters. You’re breathing heavily by the time you get to the top, sweat beading on your brow. Price doesn’t even seem winded behind you, and you’re sure he could have jogged up the steps if he wanted to. 
The top of the tower is mostly empty except for a small table and two chairs. There’s no windows, the tower open between the railing and the roof. Price sets his bag on the table, unzipping it. You sink into one of the chairs, letting your bag drop to the floor. 
“Can I know why we’re here now?” You ask him. 
“Drink some water and take a breath first.” He says, pulling a couple packets out of his bag. MRE’s. 
You dig your bottle out of your bag, taking note of the other contents inside. A few snack bars, a couple MRE’s of your own, another unopened bottle of water, and a book. There’s things in the other pockets but you don’t bother looking, guzzling down more water. 
You stand from your chair, your legs almost buckling in protest as Price gets the MRE’s cooking. You lean against the railing, looking down over the forest that stretches out as far as you can see below. 
“Can I know now?” You ask, knowing there has to be a good reason for him to bring you out here. 
“A training exercise.” He says finally. 
“A training exercise?” You frown, turning to look at him over your shoulder. It wasn’t a training exercise for you, was it? 
“Sometimes when we get a specific target on a mission, the only thing we have to go off of is a general location and a scent.” He explains. “We have to be able to track that scent effectively, sometimes for miles. We run training exercises out here to test their ability to track scents to hunt down a target.” 
You stare at the sprawling woods, beginning to understand. “So, they’re hunting a scent that will lead them here?” 
Price chuckles lowly, his hands coming to rest on the railing on either side of you. Your stomach flutters as he leans in close, his scent strong in your nose as his breath fans your ear. “Technically, they’re hunting you.” 
Your knuckles go white as they grip the railing, your blood pulsing in your veins. You’re well aware that some alphas like to hunt their omegas. There’s some primal urge deep within your brains to chase and be chased. You’re well aware of how it usually ends, the thought making your stomach clench. 
“You gave me the idea.” Price says, the warmth of his body radiating through your jacket. “When you asked to watch them train, I saw how you affected them, I thought...maybe you can be useful for their training afterall.” 
“Do they...do they know it’s me?” You ask as he steps back from you. You fight the urge to whine at the loss of proximity. 
“They do now.” He says with a smirk. “They’ve already started, so if they can follow your scent successfully, then they’ll be here in about an hour.” He says, looking at his watch. 
You frown a little. “But...we walked for two hours.” 
He smiles a little, pointing to a break in the trees below you hadn’t noticed until now. “That trailhead is a 20 minute hike back to base.” 
Your frown deepens. “But-” 
“We weren’t walking in a straight line.” He explains. “We doubled back and recrossed the trail several times to try and confuse them, just as someone running from them would do.” He passes you one of the MRE’s. “That’s what I want you to do, if it ever comes to it. You don’t fight unless you have no other choice. You always try to run first.” 
“Yes, sir.” You say, sitting down again. You don’t think you’d do much damage fighting anyway, but you don’t tell him that. 
You open the package, peeking at the contents. Some sort of potato hash, you think, but you don’t really care. You’re so hungry you’ll gladly eat the mystery re-hydrated food. Price sinks into the other chair with a quiet sigh, digging into the food. It’s quiet out in the woods, the only other sound besides the two of you the sounds of birds. 
You’ve always loved the woods, the quiet serenity of such isolation. You could imagine Price living in a log cabin miles from civilization, with animals and his own garden, happily living in quiet peace away from the stresses of life and war. You blame the fluttering in your stomach on the lingering thoughts of a chase, of a hunt. The thought of running, trying to evade soldiers who train to hunt others by their scents has goosebumps forming on your skin. 
They’re not from the cold either. 
The sun has disappeared behind clouds, the grey weather of England quickly becoming normal to you. You haven’t seen the sun much since you landed in London two weeks ago, and you’re sure you’re not going to see much of it for quite a long while. 
“What’s got you all twitchy over there?” Price asks, breaking the silence. 
You turn to look at him, your mouth open a bit in surprise. “How can you tell?” 
“I’ve been trained to notice small details, sweetheart.” He says, grinning at you. “Your fingers always get fidgety first. Like you’re looking for something to do with them. Usually they disappear beneath your sleeves, or you start picking at your clothes. Your scent changes too. Subtly, but still noticeable.” 
Oh god. You wince a little bit. He can still smell you, even outdoors in an open area. 
“Your eyes start to move, looking all over the place, like you’re searching for something, or trying not to stare at one place too long.” He continues, making you want to sink deeper and deeper into the chair until you disappear. Of course he can read you like a book. They all probably can. “Your breathing always picks up, fast enough it’s noticeable if you’re paying attention. It’s easy to set you off too, sweet little thing.” 
Warmth floods your face at his words and his stare, the back of your neck prickling. You meet his gaze across the table, the look in his eyes making you feel like you want to crawl under the table and hide. You hate that he can read you so easily. You won’t be able to hide anything from him. 
He probably knows you already have. 
You continue to hold his gaze, not backing down despite the intense tickling at the back of your neck. Touch alphas like a challenge, you repeat it over and over in your head. 
Don’t back down. 
Don’t back down. 
Don’t back down. 
A quiet growl rumbles through his chest, a shiver shooting down your spine so violently it nearly steals your breath. You fight the urge to bear your throat to him in submission, your head tilting back just slightly as your eyes squeeze closed. You’re panting, warmth pooling in your stomach as he chuckles lowly. He’s won, he knows it. You were never going to win. Nature was set against you. Your nature is to submit to him. 
“Innocent little thing, aren’t ya?” He says, pulling a cigar from one of his pockets. 
You know he smokes, you know they all do. You’ve smelled it on them many times, and it was to be expected. Your father hadn’t started until after he joined the Marines. Your mother hated it. “Dirty habit.” She always whispered as she smelled his uniform and the laundry he brought home from deployment. 
He could have had worse ones, you always thought. 
You can’t help but watch his lips curl around the cigar, the scent of tobacco permeating the air. His eyes are still on you, your own lips tingling a bit. You think back to how close you had been with Soap, inches from having your first real kiss. You regret it a bit now, not letting him kiss you. He wouldn’t have known he was your first, except perhaps by your awkwardness. 
You wonder how many times they’ve all been kissed. You wonder how many times they've kissed each other. You wonder how many barrack bunnies Price has been with, how many other omegas he’s been with. You can’t imagine Ghost being one for barrack bunnies, but then your mind sinks somewhere deeper. Ghost in his mask with an omega bent over the side of his bed, his hand wrapped around the back of their neck... 
Another shiver runs down your spine, your lower body beginning to pulse in time with your heart. 
“What’s going through that head of yours?” Price asks, still staring at you. 
“Soap almost kissed me a couple days ago.” You admit, not trusting yourself not to admit to the other things you’re thinking about. 
Price’s brows lift in surprise. “Did you not want him to?” 
Want. There’s that word again. You keep hearing it, but you’re not entirely sure what it means anymore. He’s asking to be sure that Soap didn’t force you into anything, even though you can’t imagine the beta doing such a thing. Betas usually weren’t aggressive without good reason, not like alphas. 
“Well...no, that’s not it...” You say, your face burning as you begin to regret your choice of topic. “I...I haven’t kissed anyone before...well, not like a real kiss. At The Institute, there was this omega, she was...progressive. Nothing they tried could break her of that and she got into the heads of a few other omegas. One of my bunkmates decided she didn’t want an alpha to be her first kiss, so...I volunteered.” 
Price continues to stare at you, a dark look in his eyes. You know some alphas like to watch omegas together. You’ve seen it in movies, things your brothers would put on when they were babysitting, things that would have gotten them hit over the head if your father found out. 
“Is that so?” He finally says, flicking some of the ash from the end of his cigar. “Not even a real kiss before you presented?” 
You shake your head. “No. I was...the weird kid in school. Most people considered it social suicide to be around me.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I bet quite a few of them are kicking themselves now.” 
“Why didn’t you want Soap to kiss you?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. He’s still wondering if he needs to have a long chat with the young Sergeant, or perhaps take other action. 
“Well...it wasn’t so much that I didn’t want it.” You say. “I just...thought you might be upset...if you weren’t my first...” You swallow nervously at his stare. “Since you’re pack alpha...you have the right to claim-” 
“I wouldn’t care.” He cuts you off, almost as if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of him having all the rights to claim you. As if he was uncomfortable with the idea of holding a claim over someone else. “If you want your first kiss to be with one of the others, then you shouldn’t keep yourself from what you want.” 
His words echo Dr. Keller’s. It confuses you, their willingness to allow you to want. You’re an omega, you don’t get to want. You get told what to do, what to wear. You get told what to want. You don’t make decisions, you sit and be a good omega for your alpha. 
“I don’t know what I want.” You say quietly. 
“Think about it.” He says, stubbing out his cigar. “I won’t be upset. Makes me feel a little better, in truth. Makes me feel less like an old creep trying to steal your innocence.” 
You try not to smile at his words. “I mean...you are, in a way.” 
He tsks at you but his eyes are playful as he checks his watch. “You’re trouble. We’ve got a few minutes before the hour is up. Let’s see if they can beat it.” 
You stare out at the treeline, taking deep gulps of the cool air to try and calm yourself as you wait for the others to arrive. You’re still tingling a bit from your conversation with Price, that slight tickle still crawling across the back of your neck. You want him to hold you there, feel his calloused skin against yours, feel the strength of his fingers as they press into your skin. You want him to take all the turmoil away, the fear and the insecurity and the confusion. 
You want to kneel for him. 
You’re saved from your thoughts as a familiar figure breaks through the treeline, big and hulking and wearing a skull on his face. You’ve never seen him in this mask before, only ever seeing him in his balaclava. It’s a haunting image, only his eyes visible as he looks up at the top of the tower. Soap and Gaz appear behind him, the three of them making for the staircase. 
Their boots echo on the steps as they race to the top, Soap the first one to appear with a wide grin. 
“Aye, we found the target!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you into the air and spinning.
You yelp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hang on for dear life. He smells like musk and sweat, and you can’t help but wonder if they ran here. He sets you back on your feet, your legs aching in protest after sitting for too long. The soreness of your morning hike has caught up to you, and you’ll be feeling it for a few days. 
“Not bad.” Price says, looking at his watch. “For the first time with a new scent.” He grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get back and you can have the rest of the day off.” 
You let out a whine in protest as Price grabs your backpack, gaining the attention of the four men. “You mean we have to walk back too?” 
“It’s not even a kilometer.” Gaz says with a grin. 
You pout. “I don’t know how far that is! I already had to walk for two hours this morning. My legs hurt.” 
“You didn’t stretch before you started?” Soap asks. 
“No! I didn’t know we’d be hiking halfway across the country when I was told to get up at 5 am!” You continue to pout. 
“Come on, you’ll survive.” Price says, clipping your backpack across your chest again. “You can sleep for the rest of the day.” 
You definitely have blisters, the sides of your feet burning as you walk down the stairs. You’re going to take a very long shower when you get back to base, and then crawl into bed and sleep until someone inevitably knocks because they’re worried about you. You’re still pouting, not having even thought about how you were going to get back to base. 
Soap stops at the bottom of the steps, turning to glance at you behind him as he bends down slightly. “Hop on, hen.” 
It takes you a moment to conceptualize what he’s doing before you break out in a grin, putting your hands on his shoulders to hoist yourself onto his back. His hands grip the backs of your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on as he carries you piggy-back style. 
“I’ve lifted weights heavier than you, bonny.” He says, not seeming to struggle at all with carrying you. 
“Well, omegas are supposed to be small.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder. 
“Aye, like a wee bairn.” Soap laughs. 
He carries you all the way back to base, barely even breathing heavily by the time you break the treeline. The rocking motion of being carried, along with your exhaustion, has lulled you into a daze, your head leaning against his as you desperately fight sleep. 
You’re jostled awake as Soap gently bounces you on his back. “We’re back, hen.” 
You grumble sleepily, holding onto him tighter. “Comfy.” 
“You’ll be comfier in bed, love.” Gaz says, stroking your hair. 
“Carry me.” You murmur, both of them freezing. 
“You sure about that, hen?” Soap asks. “You wan’t tae let us in your space?” 
“Mmm...yeah.” You murmur, nuzzling Soap’s shoulder. 
You miss the silent conversation between them in your half asleep state, the way Gaz’s hand hesitates on the knob, their slow, cautious steps into your space. It was a big deal, infringing upon an omega’s space. It’s sacred. One could only enter with permission, or if it was an emergency. Infringing on that space without permission could be detrimental. 
Soap gently lowers you onto your bed, helping you curl up on your side. Gaz unties your boots, setting them on the floor next to the bed before pulling off your socks. He lets out a quiet hiss as he spots your raw and blistered feet. 
“That’s going to hurt later.” He whispers. “No wonder she didn’t want to walk back.” 
“Didnae say nothing either.” Soap says, his fingers trailing your cheek. 
“Stubborn little omega.” 
Gaz’s words are the last you hear before you’re lost to sleep, your brain forcing you to give in to your exhaustion finally. 
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It’s knocking at the door that wakes you. You’re not sure what time it is, or what planet you’re on. Your eyes are crusty with sleep, your pillow damp from drooling. You’re in your bed in the barracks, tucked under a blanket. You vaguely remember giving Gaz and Soap permission to enter before you were out again. 
It’s still daylight, judging by the light around the edges of your curtains. Or maybe you had slept through the day and it was morning. You can’t tell, feeling a bit like you were hit by a bus and jumped dimensions. 
“C’mon lass, ye got tae eat at least one meal today.” Soap’s voice calls through the door. 
You let out a groan, pushing yourself up to sit. You haven’t even changed or showered, but your shoes have been removed. You flex your toes, wincing at the sharp pain from them. You pull the blanket off, staring down at your bandaged feet. They must be as blistered and raw as they had felt in your shoes. You don’t want to get up. You’re going to be sore and probably walking with a limp. 
You know what they’re going to think. 
The stares you’ll get. 
Soon it will be for that reason, though, you think. Why not let them think it now? Then maybe by then they’ll be used to it and it’ll be much less mortifying for you. 
You get up, padding barefoot to the door. You open it, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?” Your voice sounds rough with sleep, your tongue feeling heavy. 
“Almost 1800 hours.” He answers. “Price let ye sleep. He and Gaz already ate. Had something tae take care of.” 
You let out a quiet groan as you rub your eyes. You slept all day, past lunch and nearly past dinner. You likely would have kept sleeping, had they let you, but then you’d be up at an ungodly hour having to scrounge for food in the rec room. 
“Get some shoes on.” Soap says. “We’ll get food in ye, then ye can sleep more.” 
You let out a quiet grumble but do as he says, grabbing your most comfortable pair of shoes before following him out of the barracks. You let your hand slip into his, the base less populated on the weekend. The mess is still busy, though, most of those that stay keeping their schedules even over the weekend. 
Soap helps you make your tray before finding Ghost sitting at a table. You deposit your tray across from them before going to grab something to drink. You look over the options, your sleep-drunk brain trying to decide on what you need. 
“I recommend coffee.” A voice says behind you. 
You spin around, looking up at a familiar face. Your stomach twists nervously, the back of your neck prickling. It’s the soldier that had been staring at you your second day on base, the one Ghost had scared off with his glare. 
“You look like you need it.” He says, giving what you assume is supposed to be a friendly smile, except to you it looks like the grin of a hungry wolf in a storybook, and you’re the injured rabbit about to be devoured. You flinch just slightly as he holds out a hand. “I’m Corporal McKinney.” 
You don’t want to take his hand, you don’t want to touch him at all. Catcalling you could handle, the stares and the whistles were nothing. None of them have been so brave as to approach you before now, and you’re starting to realize you prefer it that way. 
An overwhelming scent suddenly washes over you, the prickling at the back of your neck intensifying. It’s rich and deep, the scent of leather and gunpowder lacing the ozone-like tang of anger, of danger. 
“Can I help you, Corporal?” The deep voice rumbles behind you, the warmth close enough all you’d have to do was lean back slightly and you’d be touching him. 
The soldier’s eyes lift from you to Ghost behind you, the wicked gleam to them fading as he stares down the giant alpha. “No, sir.” The soldier swallows thickly. “Just thought I’d introduce myself to the new omega on base. Figured we’d be seeing a lot of her around.” 
“She’s no concern of yours.” Ghost says, a dangerous rumble vibrating at the edge of his voice. “You were given the briefing.” 
He hesitates and you know he’s measuring the risk of staying, of saying something else. It’s not just the threat of a dangerous alpha, but also of his superior. “Of course, sir.” He finally says, eyeing you once more before he turns on his heel, leaving the mess. 
“What do you want?” 
You turn on your heel, staring up at Ghost. You’re shaking a little, staring up at him wide-eyed. You no longer feel the haze of sleep, wide awake and alert. Ghost is staring down at you, his scent far less prominent than it had been before.
“To drink.” He motions to the selection, waiting on you to answer. 
You stare at the options, your brain trying hard to snap back into the present, to comprehend what you’re looking at. You’re on edge, on high alert after that confrontation. 
“W-Water please.” You manage to stutter out, 
“Go sit back down. I’ll get it.” He says, turning his back to you. 
You scurry back to the table, still trembling as you take your seat again. You’re getting stares, likely from the change in your scent. It’s alerting every alpha and beta in close proximity, their instincts reacting to the scent of fear, of an threatened omega. 
“Ye alright, hen?” Soap asks, giving you a worried look. The scent of beta washes over you, Soap projecting his scent to try and cover yours and calm you all at once. 
You nod, trying to swallow the panic before you alert the entire mess to your current emotional state. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.” 
Ghost returns with a glass of water, setting it in front of you before taking his seat again. 
“Thank you.” You murmur, taking a long drink of it. It’s ice cold, the sensation shocking you back into reality a bit. 
You’re still trembling slightly as you eat, the back of your neck still prickling. You glance around the quickly emptying mess, eyes following every person that walks too close to the table. You know you’re safe. Soap and Ghost would make quick work of anyone who tried anything. 
Ghost did make quick work of the alpha that had approached you. 
You’re still in a bit of disbelief that Ghost had come to your aid. You remember the anger burning in his scent, the rumble at the edge of his voice. An alpha poised for a fight. Of course, you were being cornered by another alpha. You don’t doubt Soap could have easily won that fight if he had to, but an alpha had the natural advantage in a fight against other alphas. If it had been a beta cornering you, would he have still come to your aid? Or would he have watched and let Soap handle it? 
You're drawn from your thoughts as Soap’s phone rings, and he dismisses himself from the table to answer it. You wonder who it might be. Family maybe? Price? You wish you had someone that would call you regularly. You will, once they start leaving you. 
You’re left alone with Ghost, your eyes trying to look anywhere but at him. He takes your tray once you’re done, going to dump it before motioning for you to follow. You’re still a bit shaken, though you’ve managed to get your trembling under control, as well as your scent. 
He leads you back towards the barracks, your pace faster to keep up with him. Your feet hurt, but you’re eager to get back to the familiar safety of the barracks. 
You stop as a whistle sounds through the air, Ghost’s steps faltering as well. 
“Gonna go spread your legs for that freak, bunny?” A voice calls out across the courtyard. “I’m sure I could offer you a better time. At least you’ll be able to see my face.” 
The smell of ozone washes over you again, burning straight to some primal part of your brain. You’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion, or the emotions still reeling from your confrontation in the mess, but you turn on your heel, stalking over to the group of soldiers. You’re trembling again, but not out of fear. The anger has gone straight to your instincts, burning hot through your veins. 
The soldiers laugh as you approach, the one that had spoken grinning vilely at you. “Gonna take me up on my offer, omega?” The sound of your title from his lips nearly makes you shudder in disgust. It’s wrong, it sounds wrong being said in such a way. “I’d love to bend you over and stare at that sweet ass all night-” 
It’s not until your hand is throbbing that you register what happened. The soldier stumbles back a step, hand moving to his face. Your hand is balled in a fist, knuckles throbbing from the punch you delivered to his face. The next few moments seem to move in slow motion, your body pushed backwards as a hulking form comes to stand in front of you. The scent of ozone is still burning hot in your nose, anger pulsing through your body. Your ears are ringing, your hands refusing to unball from the fists they’ve closed into. You’re breathing heavily, eyes training on a small speck of mud on the back of Ghost’s jacket. 
“-You even so much as look in her direction again, I’ll rip your intestines out, tie them to the back of a humvee and drag you all the way to London, understood?” The dangerous rumble is back at the edge of his voice, his own hands balled into fists. 
“Loud and clear, sir.” The soldier spits out, massaging his face from your punch. 
A rough hand closes around your arm, making you stumble as you’re half dragged towards the barracks. You’re breathing heavily, breaths coming in gasps as the flood of emotions through you grows to almost be too much. You’re led down the hall towards the rec room, Ghost pushing you inside. 
“Sit.” He snaps, pointing at the couch.
You scramble to sit where he pointed, your brain beginning to move in autopilot as you cradle your throbbing hand to your chest. It’s still curled in a fist, the adrenaline pumping through you preventing you from uncurling your fingers. You try to steady your breathing as Ghost digs around in the fridge for a moment. You flinch as the door slams closed, Ghost dropping an ice pack on the coffee table before he takes a seat next to you on the couch. 
He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him rather roughly. He forces your fingers to uncurl, his own rough fingers digging into your hand, poking and prodding. He moves your fingers, bending your wrist and moving your arm. “It’s not broken.” He says, grabbing the ice pack and slapping it across your knuckles. “Luckily.” 
You’re still trembling, your hand lifting subconsciously to hold the ice pack in place. You feel dazed, not unlike you had earlier when you’d been pulled from sleep, only this time you can feel the emotions still pulsing through you. The remnants of anger, the disgust, the fear both from attacking an alpha, and the reprimanding you’re sure you’re due for doing such a thing.
“I shouldn’t have done that.” You murmur, feeling far away, outside of your  body looking in. 
“Probably not.” Ghost says. 
You turn slightly to look at him, pupils dilated as you simultaneously appear to see him and look straight through him. “Price is gonna find out.”
Ghost nods again, the burn of ozone gone from his scent. “He’ll believe you, though. Anything you tell him, he’s going to believe you over what anyone else says.” 
You stare at him, the skull mask from earlier gone, leaving him just in his balaclava. His eyelashes are blonde, you think as you take him in, trying to ground yourself. His skin looks soft, but that could just be the omega screaming at you. You expect him to get up, to leave you alone until you find the will to move, or one of the others finds you. Yet, he stays where he is, eyes focused across the room as you sit there. 
“You’re a purebred alpha.” You say, breaking the silence with the thought that had come to mind earlier. You need to keep talking, to keep your mind steady while you relax. 
“How did you figure it out?” He asks, not denying it. 
“Your scent.” You say, recalling earlier in the mess, the way his scent had permeated your entire body. You hadn’t just sensed it, you had felt it. His emotions, his anger, the hint of desperation for the Corporal to make the smart decision and walk away. “It’s different from other alphas. Price smells good and I’d like to roll around in his scent, but yours hits some deep primal part of my brain.” You say, turning slowly to face him. “Makes sense you’d end up in a position like this. You’re supposed to be like, an apex human.” You laugh quietly. “Just a couple of purebreds. What are the odds?” 
“Very high.” He answers. 
You laugh again. “Yeah, I know. Both of my parents were purebreds, and my grandparents. Both of them came from a long line of purebreds.” Your brows pinch into a frown. “I didn’t see it in your file, though.” 
“I don’t want it to be.” He explains. 
“Makes sense.” You say. “If I’d had that choice I’d have it left out too. As soon as someone sees it, that’s how they measure your worth. It’s not about you anymore, it’s your status they want.” You lift the ice, moving your fingers. Your hand is sore, your knuckles starting to swell a bit. 
“It’ll bruise.” He says, staring down at your hand. 
“‘Spose it could have been worse.” You say, grimacing at the ache pulsing all the way to your shoulder.
“Yeah,” He scoffs. “You could have broken your arm with a punch like that.” 
“‘S not my fault the CIA didn’t teach me much.” You murmur. “They mostly made me run.” You remember the hours and hours you spend running circles around the gym. So many circles, over and over again. 
Get involved in their hobbies. Your brain flicks through that section of the book, an idea beginning to form in your head. You’d considered it a few days ago, when you first read that chapter. Ghost speaks in violence and warfare, fighting and defending. How do you bond with the apex of humankind? 
“Teach me to fight.” 
His eyes shift slowly until he’s looking at you. You wish you could see the rest of his face, read his expression. His eyes don't give you much to go off of, something he'd likely perfected over the years. 
“Or, at least defend myself.” You continue, fighting the urge to shrink back under his gaze. “I know, Price already told me to run first, but what if that's not an option? Am I gonna throw a shitty punch and hope it works? Aim between the legs and hope I'm faster than they can block? I promise I won't go around trying to fight asshole alphas.”
He continues to stare at you, his eyes locked on yours. Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach twisting nervously but there's no challenge in his gaze, not even a playful one like you'd initiated with Price. He's simply staring. 
You wonder what he's looking for, what he's thinking. Will he laugh at you for asking? Tell you to ask someone else? Get Price to do it since he’s actually your alpha? 
“Fine.” He grunts, breaking eye contact first as he pushes himself to stand. “We start Monday. Early.” 
A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him leave the rec room. You may have just found your way into Ghost’s heart, or at least a way to get him to tolerate your presence. 
Monday. Early. 
You’ll be ready. 
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Taglist Part 1:
@bobaprint, @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10
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gyucheolslut · 8 months
Text
2:14 AM • KMG
lowercase intended.
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cw: somnophilia (consensual), established relationship, fingering, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid), creampie!! yum!! multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, nervous gyu, whiny desperate gyu & f!reader.. they both want to please each other so bad :( neck holding? it’s kind of implied that reader is smaller than gyu, his shirt is big on her and falls off her shoulders.. .. pet names such as baby, sweetheart, pretty girl… maybe more.. i don’t know.. i got carried away
word count: 1.7k~
not proof read!!
a/n: hi!! i’m eve~ this is my first time writing smut and i’m using it as a way to get back into writing! im super excited! i haven’t written in like.. 2 years.. so be nice to me.. :[ i hope you enjoy :]
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
mingyu couldn’t help himself. while you usually don’t move much in your sleep, especially within his tight grip.. tonight was different.
you wouldn’t stop moving..
at first, it wasn’t that big of a deal, with you occasionally shifting in his arms.. but it started to become an issue when your ass kept pressing into him, stirring up his mind and now painfully hard cock.
small soft whimpers and whines would occasionally sneak past your lips, making it more difficult for his mind to focus on anything other than fucking you in to the mattress..
while mingyu knew you weren’t doing it on purpose.. he could tell you were actually asleep.. the movement of your hips almost seemed too calculated. are you dreaming of him?
as if on cue, he was torn from his thoughts by a broken whine of his name.. “gyu..” it almost sounded painful. desperate. you needed him, he decided. he had to help you.
with shaky hands, mingyu found himself messing with the band of your underwear underneath your his shirt. why was he so nervous?
you had discussed your sexual limits and interests early on in your relationship.. and you’ve woken him up many times to some fantastic morning head.. so why was he so nervous?
mingyu sat there, contemplating for a moment before he whispered a small “fuck it..” under his breath, one of his big hands finding its way into your underwear.
using his middle finger, he pressed it between your folds finding your clit with ease.. groaning quietly into your hair as he can feel how warm and wet you’ve become. you were definitely dreaming about him.
with a skilled digit, mingyu circled your clit. feeling your head fall back into his shoulder, he peered down at you. the moonlight from the window illuminated your face, allowing him to watch the tension in your forehead release and your lips part in satisfaction.
he dipped his finger a little lower, teasing your entrance for just a second.. adding his pointer finger as he pressed them into you. you were always so reactive, so sensitive. your back arching off of his chest slightly.
using the arm that was underneath you, he adjusted himself to pull you back against him. pumping his fingers into you skillfully, curling them every few thrusts.
your breathing became heavy and a little unsteady, body wriggling against his from pleasure. mingyu hums softly, placing wet kisses along the side of your face, lips stopping at your ear to whisper a gentle “s’okay baby.. i’ve got you” as he increased the pace of his fingers.
as the tension in your belly began to build, your eyes fluttered open.. a hand reaching to grip his forearm. “fuck..” you whined, pressing your hips down to meet his movements.
mingyu smiled against your ear.. “there she is..” he muttered, shifting himself even closer to you as he became more brutal with his pace now that you were awake.
your grip on his forearm tightened, mirroring the band of fire stretching in your lower abdomen, signaling your impending climax.
clasping your fingers around his wrist that was setting an unrelenting pace on your dripping core, your mouth drops into an o shape, a high pitched gasp escaping before silence took over for a moment..
the only noise to be heard was mingyu’s quickened breath and your squelching pussy that was gripping his fingers even tighter than you were his wrist.
as you broke the silence with a anguished whine, mingyu wouldn’t let up. he couldn’t. he wanted more. he wanted to make you cum.. again and again.. and again.
“gyu, please.. i need more. i need you.. i need you to feel good.” you begged, turning to the best of your ability to look at him with teary eyes.
really..he felt great. watching you cum because of him was all he need. but he understood. you needed him. you wanted him.
mingyu searched your eyes, slowing down his movements before coming to a complete stop and pulling his fingers out.
despite asking him for more, you couldn’t help but whimper the loss of contact.. your hole clenching around nothing as it was desperate for more. for mingyu.
moving lazily, but skillfully.. mingyu pushes your underwear down, feeling you kick it off of your ankles beneath the blanket before following, pushing his boxers down and kicking them off the edge of the bed.
he quickly grabs your waist, needing to feel the heat of your skin. keeping you on your side, back pressed to his chest.. mingyu grabs your thigh, pulling it up and over his hip. you locked your foot behind his knee in a weak attempt to keep yourself grounded.
leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck, mingyu began to drag his tip through your drooling folds. sucking a breath in between his teeth, resulting in a quiet, hiss like noise that went straight to your core.
whining in impatient anticipation, you pushed your hips back against him, gasping when his tip bumped your clit.
mingyu felt hot. he felt like he was burning… that feeling worsening as he felt your warm, sopping cunt engulf him.. taking inch by inch of his painfully hard cock.. like it was made for him. molded for him.
a broken mewl escapes his throat, a hand sprawled against your thigh that was propped over his own. he speaks softly in your ear, voice laced with need.
“there ya go baby..” he exhales.. “shh.. s’okay, you’re taking me so well.. god.. you’re so warm sweetheart..” he practically coos, allowing you to adjust to his size. you’ll never get used to it.
when you started moving your own hips against him, he knew you were ready, hand dragging up your body to rest heavily against your throat.
pressing into you, the arm that was underneath your body adjusts to not only stop it from falling asleep, but to grip and paw at your closest breast.. underneath the fabric of the shirt you were still wearing.
the shirt has fallen off one of your shoulders, it’s bunched up around your waist. it’s pointless for it to be there, but neither of you care to remove it.
the room is filled with heavy, hot breaths and the pornographic sound of skin slapping as he repeatedly makes contact with your ass.
you’re dripping around him.. your thighs, his thighs, covered..so much skin is glistening with your arousal.
it’s loud, the squelching of your heat that is sucking him in so greedily.. your moans, whines and whimpers. his groans, grunts and mirroring whines.
“oh.. my pretty girl.. is that better? does my baby feel better? you needed me so bad” he starts, voice laced with an almost condescending hum “practically begging for me in your sleep”
you moaned out a broken sound that was more of a “ngh” than a reply, eyes fluttering closed as you were unable to keep them open any longer. you felt so good, too good.
gripping the forearm of the hand that laid against your neck, you felt yourself becoming dangerously close.. parting your lips to speak, to warn mingyu.. but nothing was coming out but breathy gasps..
mingyu’s pace is almost inhumane, his mind is clouded with the want and need for both of you to cum. hips snapping into yours as he chases both of your climaxes.
he takes note of your attempts to speak, hand snaking down for his fingers to find and circle your clit, your body reacting strongly to the added pressure. it’s almost too much.
“i know baby.. fuck.. are you gonna cum? hm?” he hums, kissing your exposed shoulder. “gonna cum for me pretty girl? gonna let me fill you up?” his tone is desperate, so desperate.. so whiny and overwhelmed. it’s only adding fuel to the fire that is erupting throughout your entire body.
pace unrelenting but becoming unsteady as he approaches his high, mingyu uses his pointer and middle finger to rub your clit until you’re practically exploding around him. a strangled moan echos in the room with the sinister sound of him fucking you so good as you reach back to grip his hip, back arching against his toned chest.
you see white as you cum, jaw dropping in a silent scream, fingers digging into the skin of his hip/ass. drool trickling down the side of your cheek, mixing with your tears that started to flow. you felt so good. so incredibly good.
mingyu whines, gripping your hip as he continues to pound your tightening, pulsating pussy.. mumbling praises as he closes in on his own high.
his bruising grip gets even tighter on your hip as he presses himself flush against your ass and body, painting your insides with hot, thick ropes of white.
hips stuttering against yours as he whimpers into your neck and shoulder, thrusting a few more times, riding out his high and pushing his cum even deeper into your warm heat.
you’re breath heavily, whining in overstimulation at his last few thrusts, your grip on him not letting up.
mingyu stills, leaving kisses on every inch of exposed skin he can reach. you stay like that for a while, catching your breath.. listening to mingyu’s sweet praises on how you’re so good to him, how pretty you are..
he pulls out with, slowly.. rubbing his length against your folds a few times to spread his cum all over you. chuckling when you whine again when he grazes your sensitive clit, attempting to move away from him.
you end your night with mingyu cleaning you up, giving you water and making you change your now sweat soiled shirt. he holds you, your body engulfed by his arms, head against his chest, your arms wrapped around him as he mumbles something about definitely needing to wash the sheets tomorrow morning before you both drift off into a comfortable sleep..
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 8 months
Text
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Spending the night at Simon's for the first time and him waking up to you in nothing but his oversized t shirt
Request from here
***
Eyes blinking as light filtered through his closed lids, Simon began to stir as the first bit of the days brightness filled the small bedroom of his tiny apartment. Slowly those thick, long limbs of his stretched their compressed muscles back to life as the blood flowed through them.
Turning over, he was surprised that there wasn't another body laying next to him under the covers; your bright eyes and warm smile were what he had planned to gaze upon, but there was no one. That put him a little on edge, this being the first time you'd stayed over at his shitty little apartment, but he tried to keep calm until he was fully awake.
Simon moved up onto his elbow as he lay on his side, his large hand rubbing the rest of the sleep that lingered from out of his eyes. He looked about, trying to find any signs of you: your discarded clothes from the night before lay in a pile on the floor right next to your shoes, your earrings still sat on the bedside table, and as he checked the mattress with his hand he found that it was still warm. It was obvious you were still around, he just had to go and find you.
A full yawn passed his lips before he heard the sound of clinks and taps, bangs and rustling coming from towards the kitchen area. So that's where you'd sulked off to, making breakfast no doubt.
God you were too fucking much, he wasn't used to all this sweetness, but he wouldn't change it for anything.
Carefully and quietly he moved out of the bed, scratching at the sparse covering of hair on his bare chest before he stood and straightened his sweatpants around his hips. He was hoping he could surprise you by showing up to catch you in the act.
With easy steps, Simon walked out of the bedroom towards the kitchen and what he saw standing there amidst pots and pans, a stack of toast and a pile of bacon to your right, it took his goddamn breath away.
The expectation was to find you naked, since the only clothes you had were still on his bedroom floor, but that wasn't what he found at all. Your hair had been pulled up, a few stray hairs poking out around your hairline that hadn't been secured and it looked like the only thing you had on was one of his old baggy t shirts.
As you moved, Simon could just see a peak of the underside of your ass pop through the bottom of the shirt, playing peakaboo with him the longer he looked. The lines of your legs, looked even longer as the shirt sat just below your hips. Those juicy limbs looked good enough to eat, bare and glaring back at him.
Fuck, you had never been more beautiful to him; it nearly made his goddamn heart stop beating. Being a big man had its perks and this was one of the best ones he found, that you were able to wear his clothes.
In that moment as he watched you happily go about your work, looking like a comfy dream, images of you doing this full time flooded Simon's mind and his stomach flipped excitedly at the thought. If there was anyone that could make that rough and brazen military man soft, it was you.
And maybe it was about time he let someone do it...
There was a sudden warmness against your back as two bulky arms wrapped themselves around your from behind, making you jump a little at the surprise. " 'mornin, luv," Simon's husky voice hit your ears before his kiss touched your cheek. "See you've made yourself at home."
You leaned into him, enjoying the warmth he still had from being wrapped up tight in the covers moments before. "I just...I wanted to do something nice for you, make us breakfast," you said, giving the eggs in the pan currently in your grasp a flip.
"Pretty sure you do more than enough for a bastard like me," he chuckled as one of those thick mitts moved down and cupped lightly over your sex. "This is all I need to stay well fuckin' fed."
Immediately the heat rose in your cheeks, flushing your face bright red.
"But I meant my shirt," he continued, secretly smiling from ear to ear at how quickly he had you blushing. Certain, heavy movements from his hands flitted across your torso as he rubbed over the lines of your curves through the familiar fabric of his clothing.
"Oh, sorry," you quickly apologized, thinking you had possibly overstepped, "I hope you don't mind, I just needed something and it was just there in the top drawer and..."
Another kiss on your cheek shut you right up. "Look fuckin' good like this, luv," he purred in your ear, his low, gravely morning voice making you shiver.
"Really?" you asked, glad that he wasn't mad you'd commendeered his clothes; in reality you knew it would be nothing, but this being the first time you'd done this, you still had some giddy nervousness about everything.
"Ya look like a fuckin' picture to me," he reiterated, those full lips moving down to your next now as he leaned more against you. "I thought I looked good in this thing, but it ain't nothin' compared to a fuckin' vixen like you."
You giggled playfully at all the sweet praise. Nearly missing the eggs being done, you turned off the stove and set the aside until you both were ready to eat. "Please, I look like hell."
"Bullshit," he said as he turned you around, picked up you, and placed your butt on top of the nearest countertop. He slid in between your open legs, letting his hands run down your side from where he had lifted you, sliding tenderly over the shirt. He was right, you were naked save for the shirt and that did something to his still sleepy brain.
Greedily he tilted his head and leaned up into you, embracing your mouth fully with all of his and making your lips dance together. Feverish and sloppy Simon connected with your lips again and again, making your still sleepy brain flatline.
If you could wake up every day like this it would be a fucking living dream.
His kisses would not let up as he pulled you in closer, his hands running over the curves of your back as he stole your lips with a lazy intensity.
"Breakfast is gonna get cold," you groaned with eyes closed, mouthing the words against his parted lips.
His hips bucked into your own. "Nah, my breakfast feels mighty fuckin' warm to me, luv," he said as he kept right at it.
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stevenose · 2 months
Text
rocks off (18+)
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contains: steve x reader; reader with a vagina + breasts; no gendered language used for reader; idk what their dynamic is they be fucking tho; stressed out and in need of an epic handjob!steve; praise (steve receiving); perv!reader; cumming inside 😳
a/n: this is a lot longer than originally anticipated - i hope you enjoy!!
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The air shifts the moment Steve’s car is thrown into park outside. You can feel irritation radiating off of him already - though maybe it’s just the knowledge that he worked a double, and he’s just getting home at ten in the evening.
You frown at the door, brows creasing when he finally gets inside. He doesn’t look at you at first - doesn’t seem to notice while he’s singing under his breath, kicking his Nikes off and ripping his vest from his chest.
“Bad day?”
Now he looks, glaring at you under thick brows. He sighs and runs a big, tired hand over his exhausted, pretty face. “The worst.”
“How come?”
“Because,” he starts, eyes diverting from you again to put his shoes in their place, “I had to kick middle schoolers out of the porn section, I totally got turned down by one of our hot regulars, and I had to work with Keith for the last three hours.”
You hum, watching him walk towards the couch, collapsing on it. He sighs and lets his head fall back, the pretty crown of hair cascading backwards. His pretty neck is ripe for the taking, unmarked by your lips.
“What can I do for you?”
He waves a hand, nostrils flaring with his exhale. “Just need to relax.”
You hum again, watching him intently, seeing if he’ll get the hint. His pretty brown eyes are half lidded as he watches whatever is on the television. You lick your lips.
Steve glances over at you. “What?”
“I can help with that,” you say softly.
He smiles lazily. “You gonna knock me out or somethin’ so I can sleep for once?”
For the horniest guy you know, he sure doesn’t get hints. “I was thinking more, like, making you feel good?”
Chestnut eyes widen. He licks his pink lips, tongue running over his stubble. “What would that entail?” he asks.
You bite your lip, eyes drifting downwards towards his jeans, and then back up. “Could help you cum if you want,” you whisper.
You watch his chest rise and fall. “And how would you do that?”
“Must be so tired. Bet jacking off would make you feel better, huh?“
You hear his breath hitch, watch his cheeks grow red. “Uh-huh,” he says softly.
“And you shouldn’t have to jerk off that heavy cock by yourself. Right?”
He takes a moment to find his words. “Right.”
You smile at him, crawling down the couch towards him. You prop your thighs on either side of his, straddling him. His hands come up delicately to hold your hips, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows anxiously.
“Let me take care of you,” you whisper.
Steve nods, looks at you like you’re the creator of the universe. Eyes sparkly, features tired. His thumbs rub over your hipbones, just barely obscured behind a pair of boxers.
“Can you take your cock out for me?”
He nods again, eager to please. His big hands leave your body to free himself. You sit up, giving him room to push his jeans and underwear down to his knees. Then you seat yourself back onto his hairy thighs, eyes fixating on his cock.
You’ve seen it before but it never fails to disappoint. So thick and long and you’re so sure it would be impossible to impale yourself on. Curves upwards, has a few pretty freckles on it, tip as pink as his lips. He’s only half hard and you’re still a little breathless over it.
You run your fingertips up the underside of Steve’s cock, along a vein that protrudes from his tanned skin. He sighs, hands finding their way back to your hips.
“So soft,” you moan quietly, wrapping your hand around his shaft and pumping a few times, watching him get harder. “Do you usually use spit or lube?”
Steve sort of chokes, eyes widening. “Uh - um - i-it depends.”
You wonder why he’s so anxious. You know he fucks. You can hear it through the thin walls of your apartment - you’ve touched yourself to the sound of it. It makes you feel important, him below you with flushed cheeks and golden eyes.
“Spit okay for now?”
He nods. Watches with wide-eyed wonder as you bring your hand up to your mouth, spitting into your palm, then bringing it back down towards his dick. The moment you wrap around him he gasps, a long moan finding its way out of his soft lips.
“Feels good?” you ask softly.
“Mhm.” He moans it out tightly, the muscles in his neck straining.
“Yeah? Good boy,” you coo.
Steve’s cock twitches in your hand. Your grip is firm, no teasing, as much as you’d like to wait until he’s begging and crying for something from you. His breath hitches again as his dark brows knit together.
“Have such a big cock, Steve,” you purr. “Probably why you get turned down, honey. Too big to take.”
Steve sighs, his eyes fluttering shut, his cock leaking significantly.
“Mhm,” you continue, “bet it’s got so much cum to give too, huh?”
“Oh my god,” he groans, his grip on your hips tightening. “Y-yeah, it does.”
You bite your tongue, but you say what you’re thinking anyway. “Where do you like to cum, Steve?”
“Inside,” he pants, face growing redder.
Your stomach flips. “Yeah?”
“Uh-huh.” He sounds so fucked out and it’s been two minutes.
“Anyone ever let you?”
He shakes his head. “Just - in a condom.”
You pout. “That’s not fair. Pretty cock like this shouldn’t be in a condom, Stevie.”
He’s panting, sweat glistening on his forehead. You watch him swallow hard. He’s speechless, doesn’t know how to react, but his cock certainly does. It pulses in your grip and you sigh dreamily, pulling away from him to stand.
“Where you goin’?” he asks, heartbroken.
You simply pull your boxers off before seating yourself back on him. Steve’s eyes drift downwards, and even if he can’t see much, he groans softly.
“Wanna see my tits?”
“Oh, please,” he whispers.
You throw your shirt off, too, naked on his lap now. Hand still stroking him in a steady rhythm. His hips rock into your palm as his eyes bore a hole into your chest.
“You can touch,” you goad.
His hands are so warm. You sigh as his fingers find your nipples, pinching them softly. And while he’s distracted, you move forward a bit, lift your hips, and bring the tip of his cock to your pussy.
Steve gasps just as you moan. His hands are back on your hips lightning fast, mouth hanging open. You rub his cock against your clit, your own mouth dropping with pleasure.
“H-holy sh-shit,” he breathes, hips bucking upwards involuntarily. His cock catches on your clit again and you sigh, arching your back, placing your free hand on the couch behind him for support.
“How long’s it been since you’ve touched a pussy raw?” you moan.
Steve whimpers. “I - I’ve never….”
“Should I stop?”
“No,” he whimpers, hips rocking. “Keep going, please?”
“Does it feel good?” His cock glides through your folds now, coating him in your cream. He doesn’t know where to look, but right now he’s fixated on where you both meet. “Bet it does. Feels so good for me.”
You spit on your palm again and take him back into your fist, jerking him off but letting the tip of him rub against your clit.
“And you’re good for me, Steve.” You lean forward, resting your forehead against his. He looks at you with adoration, eyes warm, honey-like. “Fuck, I want your cum. Can I have it?”
“Jesus Christ,” he moans, brows furrowing again. “Take it, need you to take it.”
“Want you to make a mess of my pussy, Stevie.” Your lips just barely brush against his. You ramp up the theatrics, moaning more, biting your lip and grinding your hips. “Wanna be the first person that feels your cum… want it so bad… wanna be a little stress toy for you.”
“Oh -!” He’s so turned on he can’t even finish his sentence. His face twists, panting, legs shaking under you.
And then - against your own better judgement - you bring the tip of his cock to your entrance. You’re entirely too tight for him but you still sink down just enough, enough to get half of the head of him inside. Steve nearly shouts, planting his feet and arching his back, his cock nestling a bit further inside. You hiss, but never stop jerking him off.
“Cum inside me,” you whine.
“Holy fuck,” he gasps. He has such a beautiful blush spreading down his broad chest. “Are - are you serious?”
You nod fervently. “‘s okay, ‘m on the pill, wanna feel you.”
Steve looks at you like you’re insane - because you are - but he never once attempts to stop you. In fact, his hips jut up a little further, burying the head of his cock inside of you deeper. The seal is almost certainly air-tight and your stomach flutters in delight.
“Be a good boy,” you purr. “Be such a good boy and cum for me, please Steve? Fuck, you’re so goddamn hot, honey. Don’t want anyone else having you like this.”
He nods, muscles tensing.
You clench around him and with one final stroke he cums. His hands grip the fat of your hips harshly - enough to bruise - and you have to follow his hips upwards to stop him from splitting you open.
“Good baby such a good boy Steve so fucking hot,” you babble, cunt pulsing. His cum spreads through you, hot and thick and it’s so goddamn much. Must’ve been backed up, hasn’t cum in a while. Really needed this.
You breathe against each other’s mouths as he comes down from his high, hands still clenching your sides. Steve doesn’t seem to want to let you go. Actually, it seems like he would love nothing more than to plant his feet and fuck his bad day right into your cunt. But he lets you lift off after a minute, watches with hooded eyes as his cum slowly drips out of you.
“That good for you?” you ask, pushing his hair back away from his sweaty face.
Steve swallows hard, nodding. “Really good.”
“Feeling better?”
He nods again. You can see his brain is trying to turn on again and you smile, kissing his forehead.
“Glad I could help.”
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aperrywilliams · 9 months
Text
Little Big Secret (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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(Not my gif. Credits to the creator)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: You’re 36 weeks pregnant with Spencer’s baby. What happens when you are about to give birth and need to contact Spencer while he is in a case out of town?
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Pregnancy and labor symptoms are described. Some strong words. If I missed something, let me know. It's a fluffy one. Dad!Spencer coming to light. The chaotic trio I love having their moment (Reid-Morgan-Prentiss).
A/N: I wrote this fic based on this request. I loved doing it! Let me know what you think.
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Being 36 weeks pregnant and stuck in your apartment trying to convince your non-born baby girl to stop kicking your guts is not funny. It's worse when the same scenario occurs at 3 am, and you are alone, unable to sleep in the last 24 hours, exhausted and sentimental because your boyfriend Spencer isn't home.
You won't tell him that, though. You convinced him to go with the team to Trenton for a case, telling him you would be okay and that baby girl Reid won't be here for at least two weeks. That's what your doctor said to you in the last appointment.
Reluctantly Spencer agreed, making you swear you would call him or your sister if anything happened.
"Relax, baby. Everything will be okay. We'll be here when you return from your case," you assured him. "You have to go while you can. Once this girl is born, you'll be stuck here and will get tired of us," you giggled. Spencer's eyes widened.
"What? No! Get tired of you? Never!"
"About that. Do they know why you are taking leave in the next weeks?"
"Not really. Hotch knows, but the rest assume I'll go to see my mom," your boyfriend shrugged.
You still find it unbelievable that the best-known profilers in the country haven't noticed one of their own has a girlfriend for three years and a baby on the way.
At first, you had your apprehensions about why Spencer didn't want his team to know your existence. You thought maybe Spencer felt embarrassed because of you or didn't consider your relationship worth enough for them to know. But your boyfriend assured you it was anything but that. He told you what happened to Haley, Hotch's wife, and the multiple times a team's family member has been exposed to danger because of their job. He wanted you safe. He wanted to protect you.
The only one who knew about you was Hotch, Spencer's boss. But he, better than anyone, could understand Spencer's reasons, so he hadn't said anything.
You understood it and accepted it, even if you both knew that at some point, your secret would not be a secret anymore. For now, it was safer like this.
Exhaustion was all you got now, and even you have been trying to bribe your unborn daughter with chocolates if she behaved and let you sleep. It seemed you succeeded as she stopped making a party in your womb.
You fall asleep thinking about how your life has changed in the past years and how happy you were despite how uncomfortable pregnancy was at this point.
The next morning you woke up feeling a little better. Sleep helped, but your body was still tense, so you thought a warm bath after breakfast was a good idea to relax your sore muscles.
You were finishing your pancakes when Spencer called you.
"Hey, baby!" You greeted.
"Good morning, my love. How did you sleep?"
You didn't have the heart to tell him how uncomfortable you were last night.
"Good. Everything is good here. How is the case?" You tried to direct the topic to him. Spencer sighed.
"I think we are close to catching the unsub, but it had been hard," he confessed.
"I know you'll get him soon," you assured him. Spencer chuckled. He loved how you were always rooting for him. You were his biggest fan.
"I hope so. And you? Our baby girl has been good? When I come back-" he didn't even finish the sentence when someone called his name in the distance. 'Reid! We need you now!'
A heavy sigh left Spencer's lips.
"I'm sorry, love. I got to go," he mumbled into the receiver, guilt dripping from his voice.
"Hey, it's okay. Don't apologize and go to catch the bad guy," you encouraged him.
"I will. I love you so so much. And I love our little one. I promise to make it up to you both, okay?"
"I love you more. We'll be waiting for you."
Despite your efforts to relax during your bath, it seemed baby Reid had other plans, like moving and squeezing your insides. You tried singing to her, telling stories, and everything that came to mind.
You gave up and hopped off the tub. You dried your body and decided to watch some TV. After a while, stuck in a random show, the noise lulled you to sleep without noticing.
Everything would have been perfect if it weren't for the fact that an intense pain woke you up suddenly. You didn't know the time, but the TV was still on. You tried to sit on the sofa, but the pain wouldn't leave you, so much so that it was hard for you to breathe. The twisting in your belly was stronger than you'd ever felt and scaring you.
"My sweet girl, I know you're eager to see us, but you have some days left in Mommy's womb, so try to be nice, okay?" You panted, trying to reason with your baby.
You weren't ready to give birth, let alone without Spencer.
But, again, baby Reid had her own plans.
Another sharp pang made you slouch on the sofa; this time, you felt something warm running down your legs. You looked down and saw the liquid drip onto the couch and slide to the floor.
Fuck. Your water just broke.
-
The morning was a rush for the whole team and the Tremont police. After an anonymous tip, they located the guy who fitted the profile and ended up being the unsub they were looking for. As he had a hostage, the team moved quickly to the warehouse where he kept captive his ex-girlfriend, the source of his rage. Before things went further, Rossi's shot ended with the unsub screaming in pain and the hostage a nervous wreck but unharmed.
Spencer couldn't believe it took them a whole week to locate the bastard, but it was finally done. So they returned to the precinct to wrap the last details and go home.
Spencer was pulling the case photos off the board when his phone started ringing. He saw it was you and hastened to answer. Usually, you didn't call him while he was working.
"Hello?"
But a loud grunt came to his ear instead of your sweet voice. Spencer's eyes widened.
“(Y/N)? Is that you?"
You barely could say a word, the intense pain reducing you to heavy breathing and whimpers.
"Spence-" you managed to say. "The baby. It hurts."
It didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening."Where are you? What's wrong? Where is Tania?"
Too many questions, and you had answers for all of them. But it was difficult to say a word with the pain cursing your body. After the contraction subsided, you could speak.
"My water broke. I'm home, and Tania doesn't answer. I don't know- ahhhh, fuck!!!"
Shit. You were in labor and alone at home. Spencer wanted to throw up.
"Baby, listen to me. I will call 911, but I need you to breathe, okay?"
"No! Spencer, don't hang up. I need you," you cried.
Spencer paced frantically in the room as Emily, Morgan, and Rossi looked at him, worried.
To call 911? Who the hell was he talking to?
"Reid? What is it?" Morgan tried to get his attention, but Spencer's brain was trying to make a plan to help you without stopping talking to you.
“(Y/N), please. I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me, please?"
JJ and Hotch entered the room at that moment. Both frowned when they saw Spencer pacing and the rest standing and waiting to know what was going on and what to do to help Spencer.
“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?"
You couldn't reply to him, crying in pain instead. Spencer thought he could die of panic.
"Yes. But I can't move," you sobbed.
Hotch didn't need much to understand what was going on. Grabbing his phone, he called Penelope.
Spencer was reduced to dumb and didn't know what to do.
"Garcia, I need you to call 911 and dispatch an ambulance to..." he paused and looked at Spencer, who was talking to you. "Reid," Hotch named. When he got no response, he tried louder. "Reid! Where? Where is she?" Spencer's face found Hotch's.
"At my place," he told his boss.
"Garcia, an ambulance to Reid's address. Report a pregnant woman in labor that needs to go to the hospital. I need you to go there too. Make sure she gets to the hospital alright. I'll give you more information later."
Pregnant woman in labor at Spencer's address?
Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi shared the same confused looks.
"Baby, the help is on the way. Penelope knows and will help you to go to the hospital. She has a key, so don't worry. I'm on my way, okay? I'll call Tania too," Spencer informed you, moving to collect his things.
"Please, hurry up," you begged. As the call ended, Spencer turned to see his boss.
"Hotch. I have to-. I need to-," Spencer stuttered. Aaron nodded.
"It'll be okay; we are leaving now," he assured Spencer.
Morgan was the first to bring the elephant in the room.
"Can you tell us what's going on?"
Then, Spencer noticed the team hearing the whole ordeal.
"Uh. My 36-week pregnant girlfriend is giving birth to my daughter right now, and she's alone. I need to be there," Spencer succinctly explained as he dialed (Y/N)'s sister's number again without luck.
To say the team was shocked was an understatement. But there wasn't time to ask questions. They needed to move quickly.
Hotch was who took the lead.
"Morgan, you'll drive to the hospital with Reid and Prentiss now. I'll stay with JJ and Rossi to pack everything and follow you. The drive to DC is about three hours; make it two. I'll take care of the traffic police," he said to Morgan, who nodded, grabbing the car keys. "Prentiss, you'll get an open line with Garcia while she joins (Y/N) and takes her to the hospital. Now go!" Hotch instructed, now patting Spencer's back. "You'll get on time. Go," he told Spencer, who nodded and stomped from the room, followed by Morgan and Prentiss.
-
"Hey, Reid. We'll make it, kid," Morgan assured while driving on the highway, Emily as the copilot. In the back seat, Spencer couldn't stop bouncing his leg, worried about if the ambulance had already taken you to the hospital. On cue, Emily's phone went off.
"Garcia, you're on speaker," Emily announced.
"My lovelies, good news. I got your girl, boy Wonder, and we're heading to the hospital. Besides the pain, she's fine," Garcia recounted, and Spencer could breathe again.
"Can I talk to her?" Spencer asked.
"No, yet; they have her in the stretcher and with oxygen while monitoring her, but as we reach the hospital and will get her admitted, we can call you again. Nonetheless, she asked me to tell you she hated you for putting a baby in her. I really like this girl already," Garcia quipped, making laugh Emily and Morgan. Spencer's cheeks flushed.
"Garcia?" He sheepishly asked. "Can you tell her I love her and am on my way?"
Morgan and Prentiss looked at each other briefly. They still couldn't believe what was happening, but either way, they had a mission to accomplish: get to the hospital before you gave birth, so the resident genius could see his baby born.
"Sure thing. I will. I'll keep you posted," Garcia assured before hanging up.
Spencer could sense that Emily and Morgan were itching to cover him with questions, but knowing his nervous state, they were respectful enough not to say anything.
"I'm sorry, guys. I didn't tell you anything about (Y/N) before," he mumbled.
"And the baby," Emily added with a non-malice tone.
Spencer's face fell with embarrassment. They were his family, after all. And he kept this little big secret from them.
"But we get it, Reid. We do," Morgan ensured.
"Yeah?"
"Yes. We all know this job, and we want the best for our loved ones, keeping them safe," Prentiss said, turning to see Spencer, who nodded. "What I still can't believe is that you kept us in the dark for three years, and none of us ever suspected a thing. They should fire us," Emily added, making Spencer chuckle.
"What I can't believe is you were able to make someone fall in love with you," Morgan quipped, smirking and gaining a slap on the arm from Prentiss. "And get her pregnant! You have been having a game all this time, and I still thought I needed to be your wingman," Morgan scoffed.
"Worst wingman on earth. He had had to do all the work for himself," Emily added. The three laughed.
They were still with an ETA of one hour when Penelope Facetimed.
"Garcia! How is she?" Spencer rushed to ask.
"Hello to you, genius," Penelope greeted. "(Y/N) is already in a room. She's 7 centimeters of dilatation, so we're waiting," she informed, turning the camera to focus you on the bed, exhausted but relieved of being in the hospital already.
"Honey!" Spencer shouted as Garcia handed the phone.
"Are you coming?" you asked in a broken tone. You didn't have much energy at this point.
"Yes! On my way now. Morgan is driving us with Emily," he informed you.
"We're almost there, pretty girl!" Morgan yelled from the driver's seat.
You let a wary smile. Spencer only wanted to be there with you so he could hold you.
"I'm sorry," you mumbled.
"No. No. Why are you sorry? You have nothing to apologize for, okay?" Spencer hastened to point.
"Our little big secret is no longer a secret," you pouted, feeling guilty about the whole ordeal.
"Baby, it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is you and our little girl being okay. Believe me; it's the only that matters to me. I'm sorry for leaving you," Spencer sniffled.
"I love you," you said, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"And I love you so much," Spencer declared, wiping his tears.
You both kept in Facetime for a while. Spencer tried to keep you focused on anything but the pain, though it was difficult when a deep contraction raked your body from time to time.
Spencer recited your favorite poems and stories and recounted your best memories together. As a natural thing, Emily, Morgan, or Penelope made questions and comments about the things you or Spencer said. That helped. You felt accompanied, not only by your boyfriend but also by the beautiful people who were taking care of you and him. If you ever thought Spencer's coworkers didn't care about him, now all those doubts are cleared.
"We're getting there in five!" Morgan announced.
"Garcia, please tell the staff Spencer is coming so they let him rush upstairs," Emily requested.
"On it!" Garcia chirped. “The doctor is here, so I’ll hang up. Boy Wonder, the third floor, hall to the left,” she informed before the call ended.
Pushing the brakes in front of the hospital’s entrance, Morgan turned to Spencer.
"Go, pretty boy. We'll be there waiting," the man assured.
"Go to see your girls," Emily added. Spencer’s eyes were full of tears.
"Thank you. Really, thank you so much," he voiced before climbing off the SUV and rushing inside the hospital.
-
The doctor announced you were almost ready to give birth now. Just another centimeter of dilation, and you’ll need to push. After he left, you squeezed Penelope’s hand hard. You weren't sure you could do this.
“It’s okay, pumpkin. You can do it. Spencer is already here,” she comforted you. Garcia had just ended her sentence when Spencer rushed inside the room, panting and looking frantically. When he spotted you, you could see the tears in his eyes.
“Spencer!” you cried. He quickly lugged to your side. Garcia sighed, relieved that he was there. Spencer held your hand now, kissing your temple.
“I’m here, my love. I’m here. I won’t leave again,” he chanted, stroking your damped hair.
It was Penelope’s cue to leave the couple alone. But before Garcia crossed the threshold, Spencer ran to her and wrapped her in the tightest embrace he ever gave her.
“Thank you, thank you. For everything,” he mumbled. Garcia could have started crying, but it would be time for that later.
“Anytime, my love. Now go back to your woman. We’ll be outside waiting.” A grateful Spencer nodded before joining you again.
You didn't reach the last centimeter until an hour later. Spencer stood by your side, chanting praises and pushing away your sweat with a cloth whenever you needed it.
When the time came, you were pushing with all the strength you left, but your little girl wasn’t doing it easy for you.
“Spencer, I can’t,” you sobbed. Spencer kissed your head and stroked your hand.
“I know you’re exhausted, my love. But you’re almost there. We’re going to meet our little girl. Want that, right, my little pumpkin?” he talked now to your belly. The waiting room is full of aunts and uncles, ready to see you. They already love you, even if they didn't know about you until three hours ago,” Spencer pointed, and you let out a little chuckle in the middle of the pain.
The feeling of being cared for and loved gave you the last ounce of energy you needed. In the next contraction, you pushed harder, ending with a loud baby cry. Your daughter was here.
When they put her in your arms, wrapped in a white blanket, you couldn't believe it. She was the most beautiful baby in the world—the best combination between Spencer and you.
“You did so good, my love. She’s wonderful, and she’s here with us,” Spencer said, voice full of emotion and tears freely rolling down his cheeks.
You couldn’t stop looking at her.
“Our little big secret,” you cooed. “You’re a lucky baby already,” you whispered to her. Spencer chuckled.
“Should I go to tell them?” He asked you.
“They will kill you if you don’t,” you quipped.
When Spencer showed up in the waiting room, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ were there too.
All eyes were on him.
“A 7 pounds, 2 ounces, and 19.6 inches healthy baby girl,” Spencer announced, the biggest grin plastered on his face.
The room erupted in cheers and claps, everyone taking turns to hug the new father.
Once everyone calmed down, Spencer cleared his throat.
“I want to apologize for keeping this from you. I don't want you to think I don't trust or care enough to tell you about the important things in my life. It's just- you know,” Spencer trailed off. Rossi patted his shoulder.
“We know, kid. We really do,” the older man assured him.
“Yeah, Spence. We understand. That doesn't mean it’s not a big thing, but we get it,” JJ seconded.
“We are just jealous because Hotch was the only one who knew,” Garcia scoffed.
“Boss privilege, I guess,” Hotch shrugged, making the rest laugh.
“Well, being (Y/N) and baby Reid not a little big secret anymore, we can meet them properly, right?” Morgan pointed.
“Oh, yes! Please! I want to meet my goddaughter!” Garcia chirped, and Spencer looked at her, frowning.
“Don’t look at me like that, doctor. I won the privilege when I held that poor woman in pain,” she added.
“Maybe you’ll be the godmother, but I’ll be the cool aunt,” Emily chirped.
“And I’ll be Papa Rossi,” David seconded.
Spencer shook his head, laughing as everyone on the team fought for a place in his daughter's life.
He was so happy to have you and baby Reid. But now his happiness was complete knowing he could share it, and his whole found family could be part of it.
-------
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger
3K notes · View notes
talaok · 3 months
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Imagine no outbreak Joel seeing you doing a million steps nightly skin care routine and just laying under the covers and waiting for you to be done and come to bed already and slowly getting frustrated
Maybe a little toddler cuddling in bed with him and Joel fake complaining to them about you
“Mommy is taking a long time huh?”
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader
a/n: this request is so so so cute, anon you're a genius
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he was being a drama queen, 
as always.
You'd been in the bathroom a total of five minutes and already he was groaning and calling out to you as if you'd been in there an hour.
"I've just finished washing my face baby, I'm not even half way done" you laughed, patting your skin with a towel 
Another groan sounded from the bedroom and you just smiled, as you reached for the fist of the many products that were gonna go on your face.
This was part of your routine now.
Him moaning and complaining because you were taking too long and wanting nothing more than to just have you there in bed with him into his arms, while you laughed in front of the mirror at how much of an unpatient man you had married.
"I don't even understand why you do that stuff" he sighed, loud enough for you to hear, turning again in frustration under the blanket "You're already gorgeous, darlin'"
You rolled your eyes, your mouth betraying you with a smile
The amount of times you'd heard him say that...
Doing your skincare, makeup, putting on lotion... all tasks that to him did nothing but lessen the amount of time you could be in his arms.
"nice try miller" you chuckled, peering out of the bathroom door to talk to him "but flattery ain't gonna work"
Just as his eyes narrowed, a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue, a little goblin jumped on the bed, having sneaked in without either of you hearing.
Said Goblin, being Emma, your beautiful, smart, nosy daughter.
"daddy!" she giggled, jumping literally on top of him, earning a painful groan from Joel, before he smiled, feigning an attack on her by wrapping his arms around her and bringing her down to him.
"whatcha doing here peach?"
"'m not tired" she explained, hiding her face in his neck
"aw babygirl, you can stay with us for a while, but you have to sleep in your own bed ok?" he murmured, stroking her hair "You're a big girl now"
"mh-mh" she nodded
Your heart warmed as you watched the scene before you, but before you lost precious moments where Joel was too preoccupied with your daughter to realize you still hadn't finished, you went back to your skincare.
But of course, it was all in vain.
Not even a minute passed that you heard him murmur "Mommy's taking a long time huh?" to Emma, who gasped as she answered
"where is she?"
"she's in the bathroom, putting all sorts of stuff on her face"
"what stuff?" She frowned, confused
"stuff she doesn't need" he explained 
You huffed a laugh as you popped your head out of the bathroom, still massaging some serum onto your cheeks "I'm almost done I swear"
"mommy!" Emma smiled wide as she saw you
"Hi pumpkin" You blew her a kiss in return
You watched as Joel murmured something in her ear, something you could very well hear
"tell mommy she doesn't need all that stuff, that she's already beautiful"
Emma didn't waste a second before complying
"You're pretty, mommy!"
You rolled your eyes at him, although the smile on your lips didn't fade one bit
"thank you baby" you stifled a chuckle "but you should explain to daddy that the reason I am so beautiful as he keeps saying, is because of this stuff"
"daddy!" Emma scolded him, turning back to him "You didn't tell me that! You should listen to mommy, she's smart"
He couldn't help but laugh at that, 
God if she wasn't right
"You're right" he grinned "she is smart, and I should listen to her" he said "But you know what would be better? If while she was explaining all that smart stuff she's always saying, she was right here beside us, so we could cuddle with her, wouldn't it?"
Emma considered what he said for a moment before agreeing
"yes" she nodded "it would"
You sighed, exasperatedly, as you finally exited the bathroom, shutting the door behind you
"there, I'm done" you said, climbing into bed "happy now?"
They almost answered in unison, but while Emma yelled her "yes!" as she jumped between you two, Joel's "yes" was much calmer... only a hell of a lot more smug.
He brought you closer with his strong arms, sandwiching your daughter between you and him in a tight hug.
"You're the least patient person I've ever met Miller" you murmured, turning to him with a glare
"And you, sweetheart, are the most perfect one I've ever met."
You rolled your eyes, your mouth once again betraying you
"I better be" you bit down a smirk, watching him grin
"I love you" he murmured, ghosting your lips 
"I love you too assh-" your eyes lowered to where your daughter held onto you, forcing you to censure yourself "I love you too" you said, before he kissed you softly, his hand drawing gentle circles on your waist,
You leaned away when quiet snores sounded through the room, and once you lowered your gaze, you found out why.
"just this time" Joel immediately suggested, giving you his best puppy eyes
"You said that last time too" you reminded him
The pout on him persisted, as he tried harder to convince you
"please?" he begged,
You let out another exasperated sigh, before inevitably, as always, agreeing
"fine" you breathed "but this is the last time"
He kissed you again, and when he let go... you swore your daughter had a smile matching his on her lips.
You would have bet a fortune that this was their plan all along.
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finniestoncrane · 14 days
Note
HELLO I'm in love with the way you write for Cooper 😩👏💝fix idea: I was thinking he's DEFINITELY somebody who doesn't care who he looks anymore, but is still aware that he's got that CHARM yano, but maybe the reader is just "wow your eyes are so pretty" and he fuckin BLUSHES (Mr cooper Howard aka Mr ghoul cowpoke absolutely keels over cus somebody said he was puuuurrtty) 💥💥💥🔫 just all "shut your pie hole girlie" and shes 😏😏😏 ok handsome
Can Ghouls Blush?
Cooper Howard x GN!Reader, word count: 1k aaaaah thank you ;-; also i love this, i love the idea of flustering that horrible boy omg 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: some threats (imean it's cooper), guns, mostly fluff though!
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“I know time means very little to someone who has been around for two hundred years, but how much longer are you gonna be?”
Cooper’s voice echoed out from the main room of the abandoned building you had slept in. From the bathroom, you could hear the frustration, despite his attempts to soften it up. He had no time for fun, no time for relaxing. It was survival and sweating, or nothing at all. But you could tell he had tried to soften it up a little, just for you. His irritation was still so obvious however, even as he offered you a playful roll as he approached the door, catching your eye in the reflection of the cracked mirror.
“Just a sec, then we can head out.”
The old hairbrush you had found by the sink was a well-received miracle. A little bit of normality, a chance to tidy yourself up somewhat.
“I just think it’s a waste of time is all. Preening for the Wasteland. I mean, who are you trying to impress out there? You already got the best catch.”
He flicked the brim of his hat with his gloved fingers, grinning wide, yellowed teeth bared at you as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip.
“That’s exactly the problem. I have to make sure I look good to keep up with you, handsome.”
Your hand stroked along his cheek, a brief moment of eye contact as you walked past him towards the door of the bathroom and back out to the front of your temporary shelter.
“Handsome, huh?”
His voice seemed so much lighter now, more so than you had ever really heard before. And as you turned, you noticed the slight smile on his weathered lips, cheeks pulling up at the corners, eyes glinting as he stared straight back at you.
“Uh… yeah. You’re a very handsome guy, Coop.”
You almost had your fingers on the door knob, ready to leave for the start of your day, when you realised that you couldn’t feel Cooper’s presence behind you. Turning to see what was holding him up, you caught something in his eyes. A look of confusion, almost. Surprise. Disbelief. And a little bit of what you could swear was embarrassment. All this time together. Sleeping in each other’s arms, protecting each other from danger. Had you really never expressed to him your attraction? You had just assumed he knew. You spent long enough staring lustfully at him, it was surely a given. So you worried there was something else to it.
“What’s wrong, Cooper?”
“Nothing, I just… I was used to being called handsome, long time ago… not so much these days.”
As you stepped back towards him, closing the short distance, you could make out his expression much better, realising how astute your previous observation had been.
“Oh my god… Coop, are you blushing?”
He raised one finger, narrowing his brows as he tried to hide the endearing glee, offering you a forced stern look as he spoke.
“Don’t start playin’ stupid with me, you know I am not.”
Biting your lip, a mischievous smile forming, you gripped the lapels of his duster, teasing him as you stroked your thumb along one of his ridged, warm cheeks.
“Why, I didn’t even know big tough cowboys could blush, especially not the more ghoulish ones.” Can they blush? I'll need a closer look."
His fingers were tight around your wrist, gripping you fast and firm. He was trying so hard to maintain his tough exterior, but you could tell there was something softer in there that longed to come out, or at the very least, was desperate for someone to notice it. It was so obvious, even as he lowered his voice and growled at you.
“You turn around right now and start walkin’ out that door.”
Cooper took a step forwards, an attempt to regain his control of the situation, to push you towards doing his will, but you brought your hand up and laid your palm against his chest.
“Wait, just a second…”
It was nice to see him in this light. His confidence was always the dominant feature in his peronality, and it rarely wavered, if at all. But to know there were aspects of himself that he wasn't as sure of, and to know you could render him a little flustered just by complimenting them, made you smile. A grin that was returned by Cooper as you gazed into his warm, brown eyes.
"What is it you're lookin' for now, huh? You find it?"
"Yeah... turns out they can blush."
You turned quickly from him, practically skipping back towards the door of your temporary shelter, ready for another day of survival, this time tinted with a little more joy than usual. Your smile only grew wider as you heard Cooper, catching up with you, still trying to cover his embarrassment with the strained, empty aggressive threat that he chased you with.
"Now I will shoot you, you know that? You're pushing your luck today and we ain't even done anythin' yet."
But when he was certain you weren’t going to turn back around, he let himself smile a little. A soft glow in his eyes as he allowed himself to remember who he was, really. The kind of man that resided deep down inside, buried by years of solitude in the deep, dark ground, of struggling to adjust to the world. And struggling to adjust to himself. Even just a tiny reminder that, despite his charms and the charisma that tended to pull people in, that there was a bit of his old self left. That despite everything, despite who he had become, both physically and emotionally, someone might look at him with something other than fear first. With kindess, or lust. Or even love. That was enough to help him cling to the memories and look to the future with just the tiniest bit of hope, something he hadn’t felt in such a long time.
“You comin’, handsome?”
He smiled, biting his lip to curtail the spread of the easy grin.
“You bet.”
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pinkifiedbows · 3 months
Text
Feel something.
𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠!: blackfem reader. eren calls reader: baby, mama. Reader calls him daddy, rennie/ren etc. creampie! Hair pulling, daddy kink. Eren refers to readers pussy as “her”! Riding, and doggystyle….and maybe some misspelling which I apologize for! I think that’s it!!
You swore to yourself never again. That you would never again sleep with the man that provided you with your weed. But in this moment, with the smoke in the air, the way both of your chests floated with each breath, the way he looked at you with his lips parted as he took another drag at the blunt. It made you feel so needy, you needed him.
“You good mama?” He said passing the blunt to you. His bushy eyebrows furrowed when you shook your head and declined the blunt.
“whatchu need baby?” He asked placing the blunt in the ashtray that sat on the nightstand beside your bed, and gave you his full attention once again.
“You. Make me feel something ren.” You said as you looked him in his eyes and made your way closer to him on the couch. Your facial expression brightened as you watched him spread his legs open and pat his lap, you smiled at him watching you straddle his strong thighs.
“You’re in charge mama, use me.” He said as he tied back his hair in a messy bun and smirked at you. As soon as you smashed your lips on his, Eren’s strong veiny hands made their way to grip and hold your ass. The kiss you two shared was so passionate. Eren’s grip on your ass tightened once you gave his tongue access to explore your mouth. You let out soft moans as your hands gripped the leftover hairs on his neck.
“Mmmhpf ren.” You let out once you two pulled away. Eren’s hand made its way to your dripping cunt. “Damn baby, you’re already so wet.” Eren said as he smirked feeling your wetness drip down his wrist. You frowned at his teasing and tugged on his waistband.
“Undress f’me Rennie.” You said as you moved off his pelvis and sat to the side of him to remove your clothing. Once you both were naked, Eren pulled you back on top of him, and watched you with lazy eyes as you stroked and spit on his needy cock.
You placed your delicate hands on his abs to hold yourself up as you lowered yourself on his dick. “Ouuu baby!” You moaned, feeling his huge cock stretch you out, it was like you could feel his tip kiss and touch everything, just as well as every vein.
“Fuck mama! That’s it.” Eren groaned out once you started moving up and down on his dick. His eyes were shut tight as he threw his head back, your pussy was so tight it felt like you were choking his dick, trying to drain him for all he’s got.
“Mmmhm eren! s’good daddy.” You cried out to him, leaving sex marks on the pale area of his neck. You were salivating at the feeling of his big dick running through your insides. You left out a squeak the second you felt him grip your hips and place you on your stomach.
“Arch f’daddy baby.” Eren said watching you, rubbing his leaky red tip. A smile formed on his pretty face as you did what you were told.
“Good fucking girl.” Eren praised as he circled his tip around your needy hole before slamming inside. Your eyes widened and rolled to the back of your head, it felt like he was in your throat. It felt so good, it was almost suffocating.
“Ouu! Erennn!” You screamed out his name, almost out of breath with each fast thrust.
“I know mama I know. Fuck! Who’s pussy is this baby? Hmm?” Eren moaned out as he led his left hand to grip onto your hair, leaving his right hand to guide and grip your hips into nothing but submission. He slightly pulled back on your hair and slapped your ass, when his question was answered with nothing but whimpers. “Answer daddy mama.”
“Y-yours Eren! It’s all yours baby please. Oh fuck!” You whimpered, tears streaming down your beautiful face as you felt your stomach knotting and that familiar warm feeling on your pelvis. You could tell Eren was close too, you could tell just from the way his grip on you tightened, like he needed something to keep him up straight or else he’d fall, weakened from all the pleasure you were giving him.
And Eren wasn’t stupid, he read your body like a book. Reading your signs, until you’d climax on his pretty cock. “Come on baby. Let go f’me, I know you want to.” He said moving his hand down to play with your swollen bud. “Listen to her talk to me baby.” He whimpered at the sounds of your wet pussy squelching from his strokes and his fingers.
“Mmhmm!! Ren! Im cumming!” You screamed as you creamed all over his dick. Before you could come down from your high, you felt Eren painting your walls completely white with his heavy load.
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sttoru · 9 months
Note
can we get a pervert toji? as nasty as possible :3
“ 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 ! ”
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ෆ note. yehahshsbe yeeass please i love perv!toji.. :3 actually any perv!character s my weakness hehdhen i went a little wild writing this oopsie this is so detailed ohmyogddd anyways….. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk !
ෆ tags. perv!toji x female reader. somnophilia, age gap (reader early 20s, toji mid 30s), panties stealer, m! masturbation, daddy kink, implied threesome, cunnilingus, breeding (talks of pregnancy), manhandling, overstimulation, size difference, cum play, boob job, name calling (slut), cervic fucking, mating press, calls you ‘baby, little girl, doll’, uhh anyway toji’s just a big pervert who gets turned on by anything. includes compilation of seperate, small drabbles.
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toji, whom you wouldn’t have guessed was a pervert of any kind at the start of your relationship. your first intimate experience with him went as expected; it was soft and slow vanilla sex. you were just getting to know each other’s preferences in bed, so for the first few times there were almost to no signs of toji’s sexual perversity. all you remember was him being the dominant one. nothing more.
but oh, there was so much more to that. it was just hidden from your view in the early stages of your relationship. you didn’t have any knowledge of what toji was doing behind your back or what his actual thoughts were during the times you’ve been intimate.
toji, whom you didn’t know wanted to get straight into business from the very beginning of your sex life; to have your wrists pinned above your head, his hips slamming into your small cunt and molding it to remember the shape of his big cock. toji needed to see your helpless body moaning, screaming, crying and drooling from underneath him. but he couldn’t achieve that just yet; he needed to take it easy on you at first—to build up the trust between you two in bed. especially because you weren’t as experienced as he was.
toji, whom could only count on his imagination to fulfil his secret desires. he does this whenever you’re staying over and are asleep in his bed next to him. the entire apartment would be dead quiet except for toji’s muffled grunts and the faint wet sounds of him jerking off underneath the blanket.
you’d be in deep slumber with your back facing him and he’ll pleasure himself at simply the sight of your body. the older man loved just how vulnerable and innocent you seemed in your sleep—leaving your figure open and accessible to his view.
the strokes on his cock would get faster each time his eyes land on the shape of your ass. toji always imagines how it’d look when he’s giving you backshots, how the fat would jiggle with each thrust or smack of his hand. he wants to see your plump ass bounce back on him and maybe even have it covered in his cum.
toji, who sometimes stops palming himself just to turn your body around to face him. that way he can have a great view of your tits and fantasise of putting his cock between them, having the pair swallow his entire length once he squeezes them together. he’s never talked to you about it, but he will one day when you’re ready to explore more kinks and stuff in the bedroom.
toji, who keeps a pair of your panties in a secret drawer. those are his special panties, aka, the ones he uses to jerk off when you’re away. he’s done the filthiest of stuff with them; he has sniffed the insides-as if the scent of your sweet cunt lingered on the fabric- he has wrapped the cloth around his thick cock and even came multiple times all over it. he always imagines it being your pussy that he spills his load in; not his fist nor the panties.
toji, whose switch gets flipped the moment you (accidentally) call him ‘daddy’ in bed. it slipped from your mouth in the heat of the moment and the older man had to stop all movements to stare down at you— the scarred corner of his lip twitching and eventually forming a full on smirk.
not only that: it was like his entire demeanour changed. toji got more arrogant, cocky, confident and especially more dominant ever since then. that slip up of yours was the reason toji decided to let go of any restraints and just fuck you like he was always meant to do: nasty, dirty and roughly.
“yeah? mhh, fuck— say that again f’me, little girl— c’mon. if ya won’t, i’ll pull out and leave y’r cunt empty, so you better hurry up.”
toji, whose libido only increases with age rather than the opposite. you’d think dating an older guy in his mid 30s would mean that he’s going to be less sexually active. well, toji was your living proof that that wasn’t the case.. at all. he gets his dick hard just by seeing a tiny bit of your cleavage, never says ‘no’ to fucking you no matter where or when and has so much stamina that he can go on until you’re passed out. sometimes you’re fucked so full of his cum to the point that it’s impossible to push it all back into you— the white liquid just keeps leaking out of your poor pussy no matter what.
it makes toji super proud whenever you’re passed out on the bed, body still twitching and quivering in your sleep whilst he finishes himself within a few more pumps. he’s proud that he still has it in him and can last way longer compared to you, who’s still young and full of energy.
“aww, poor little baby— fucked ya right to sleep, hm? c’mere.”
toji, whose secret drawer slowly piles up with raunchy pictures of you in all kinds of comprising positions. most of them are images taken from his point of view which he captures between videos. some of them are of your ass with his dick visible between your folds, others are pictures of your fucked out self— the state which toji thinks you look the most beautiful in.
his cum dripping from your cunt, your hair a mess, sweaty skin glistening under the dim light of the room, cheeks stained with your own tears; that afterglow was something toji liked to admire. that’s why keeps those memories in his drawer (but also to masturbate to them when you’re not around, of course).
toji, who’s on cloud nine whenever he gets the chance to drown your fertile womb in multiple loads of his hot cum. he was already over the moon once you told him he could hit it raw— but then you were begging him to cum in you? that man was not going to stop at just one round. that was set in stone.
the mating press is his favourite position since it allowed him to penetrate you deep— pink tip almost painfully hitting your cervix over and over again. toji also likes it because he can get to see your pretty face whenever he shoots ropes of his potent seed inside of your womb.
toji, who’d never admit it out loud, but desperately needs to see you grow a little belly full of a new life. one which you carry with you everywhere— even whilst attending your college lectures. he can’t get the image out of his head; you wearing those skintight shirts or materinity clothes that show off your swollen stomach. he’s gonna be so proud walking next to you on the streets, knowing you’re his baby mama.
“mmh, shit— gnna fuck a baby into you, yeah? haah,, wanna see you carry my child ‘round and have you be my baby mama. hmm, you’d like that? i knew you’d do, slut— i bet everyone at y’r college is gonna know who knocked you up.”
toji, who has dirty fantasies of sharing you with his agent. he’s never thought about it before, but there was one single moment that changed his mind.
shiu visited his place once to discuss a business deal and you coincidentally were over at toji’s as well. you were kind enough to serve the two men a meal while they were discussing something which you didn’t understand. you sat down and joined them anyway (much to shiu’s dismay since it was confidential information he was sharing, but toji insisted you’d stay or he won’t take on the job. he could be petty every now and then.)
toji’s mind began wandering to some dirty thoughts as he looked at you, peacefully sitting between the two men, your fingers playing with toji’s out of boredom. your lover was instantly intrigued by the idea of having you sandwiched between shiu and him—your holes stuffed with two cocks at the same time. or just you sucking toji off while shiu was pounding your tight pussy. that alone made toji’s dick twitch in his pants.
once shiu was gone, toji wasted no time and pinned you against the wall near the front door— kicking his sweatpants and underwear away whilst his calloused fingers pulled your panties to the side;
“c’mere, lemme put that cunt to use— did y’know how close i was to jus’ fuckin’ you right in front of him? to let him see how good of a girl you can be f’me? mhmm, might even call him back so he join us.”
toji, who eats pussy like an absolute madman. he’s obsessed with eating you out and making it messy—his spit and your body fluids are always all over his lips, chin and cheeks when he’s done with you. one moment you’re chilling on the couch in your shorts and in the next you’re arching your back as toji’s head was nestled between your thighs.
he’d moan and grunt against you, his voice creating vibrations against your cunt which only adds to the pleasure that his mouth and tongue were giving you. toji’s nose would rub against your wet folds, his big hands holding your thighs apart while his tongue was lapping up all that it could. he definitely sniffs your pussy as well from time to time;
“mmm— aw, gonna cum already? do it, wanna taste you so bad, wanna see you cum all over my tongue. c’mon, you can do it—mhmmm, yes you can. do it for me, doll. cum for daddy. give it to him.”
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toxicanonymity · 11 months
Text
thoughts
1.6k / joel miller x virgin!reader / master
sequel to Aches but can read alone. Next: Needs. WARNINGS: I8+ mdni, big girthy age gap (20/50s) only one sleeping bag, pining, fingering, grinding, jacking off, hand job, mutual masturbation, innocence, pet names. No use of y/n.
🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤
“You don’t have to do it for me,” you whisper.  
The problem is, the more Joel relieves you, the more often you seem to ache.  The more you think about him and his body - his body pressed against yours, wrapped around yours.  Inside yours - It’s what you think about all day, every day now.  It’s getting really bad.  It’s hard to keep eye contact sometimes.  
-
Earlier, you were both rummaging through an abandoned convenience store. Joel walked up and asked, “Find anything ya like?”  You turned around and your eyes instantly fell on his tight jeans.  He followed your gaze down, then slowly stepped toward you.  “Hmm?” he prompted you.  
You stammered, “Sorry. What?”  
He smiled to himself.  “See anything ya like?” 
“I, uh-”  
“In the store, honey.”  He briefly glanced around the building.  “Find anything good?” 
“Oh.  No, I guess not.” Your whole face was hot.  
He cupped your burning cheek and his brow furrowed as he asked, “You okay, sweetie? You’re warm.” 
“Yeah, I’m okay,” you whispered with your eyes drowning in his.  A pool was forming in your panties and his touch on your face made you throb between the legs.  It was that moment you realized how out of control your desires were getting.  It was a constant distraction. 
-
Now you’re huddled in his sleeping bag as usual.  Joel is spooning you with his hard dick pressed against you.  Your top leg is back slightly behind you, between his legs, to make room for his hand between your thighs. He’s two knuckles deep and you’re already close to falling apart. He’s been helping you for a couple of weeks now, and it gets easier and easier to let yourself come. 
“Course I don’t have to,” he says and pushes another finger into you.  You inhale a chest full of air as he pushes his digits to the hilt and curls them.  Your hips lift into his hand which was already soaked with your arousal before he inserted a single digit.  “Why? Want me to stop?” Your clit rubs against his slick palm as he expertly works his fingers. 
“No,” you whisper. “I don’t want you to stop.” 
“Good,” he murmurs, moving his fingers rhythmically as you grind into his hand.  Then he whispers in your ear,  “Cause I kinda like doin’ it.”  
You moan softly. 
“Ya know,” he says softly, “You might like helpin’ me, too.”  
You’ve thought so much about his cock.  You’ve felt it pressed hard against you so many times through his boxers and your panties.  You’ve never touched it though, not with your hands.  You haven’t felt the skin, except one time when it was accidentally peeking through his boxers and the tip touched your lower back, making a wet spot on your shirt.  When you flinched, he apologized. 
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Maybe.” 
“Why don’t we find out,” he murmurs. “try just a few seconds?”
You swallow, ashamed of your eagerness for anything involving his cock.  “Okay,” you say hesitantly.  
“Good girl.”  He takes his hand away from between your legs for just long enough to free his aching manhood from his boxers and lube it with your slick. “Gimme your hand, sweetie.”  
“I dunno how or anything,” you tell him. You clench your thighs together, still in need of relief.  You’re not sure if you’ve ever ached this badly.  
“That’s okay.  Don’t gotta do anything.” 
You slowly reach back, offering him your hand as you crane your neck to look to his eyes for reassurance.  It’s too dark to see, but you can still feel what his warm eyes would look like. 
“Think you’re gonna like this. But if ya don’t, ya don’t have to, okay?” He wraps your hand around his cock upside down. “Yeah,” he whispers.  “Just kinda hold it. That’s all ya gotta do.” His breathing is heavier with your hand touching his stiff cock. It’s larger than you thought it would be.  You always imagined you’d easily be able to wrap your hand around one.  
Joel thrusts into your slick hand and you feel a stab of need.
“How’s that?” he asks, thrusting slowly into your hand again with a barely audible grunt. 
“Good,” you whisper, holding your hand behind you. The skin of his shaft is so smooth. Now more than ever, you’re aching to be filled.  
“Attagirl,” he murmurs.  “Still want my help, right?”
“Yeah,” you breathe.  
“Good girl.” He reaches his arm over yours and slides his hand between your legs again. He softly groans when he feels how much wetter you are than you were just a minute ago.  All this, just from touching his cock.  “God damn,” he whispers. 
“What?”
“Nothin', baby.”  
It would be hard to say what you prefer - having his cock thrust into your hand or against your body. But finally feeling it naked, feeling its shape, the softness of the skin, the impossible firmness of the erection – it takes your breath away.  He slides two fingers into your cunt and pumps them at the same slow rhythm he’s thrusting into your hand. 
Your pleasure builds rapidly, and you badly need release. “Doin’ great, baby,” he says in a deep, gruff whisper. “Just perfect.” He gradually increases the pace,  moving his fingers and cock in unison.  His cock fills your hand as his fingers fill your dripping cunt.  You’re keenly aware of what you’d rather be filled with.  
He softly grunts into your hair.  “Ohh, yeah,” he sighs as he thrusts into your hand and pumps his fingers.
You whimper at the edge of your climax, your upper back pressing into his chest and your hips grinding desperately into his large hand as his fingers fuck you. Your whole body tenses. 
He talks you through it soothingly as usual, lips planted near your ear. “Yeah, baby,” he murmurs, “you’re there, I got ya.”  Your hips push desperately into the palm of his hand, and his hand pushes back just right.  You whine his name as your core finds its stuttering release. The pleasure is more explosive than ever.  
“Good girl,” he whispers.  You recover for a few seconds, then turn around to face him.  He quickly folds down the unzipped sleeping bag for more space and rolls onto his back.  “You wanna keep helpin’?”
You nod and whisper, “yeah.” Then you add “Am I doing okay?” 
“'Course you are, baby. Get your hand wet between your legs now,” he says, which embarrasses you.  
“Nothin’ to be ashamed of, remember?” 
You take his cock in  your hand again and he covers it with his, showing you how tight to grip it and how to stroke it over the head. 
“Good girl.” 
-
Once you’ve got the hang of it, he asks, “You like helpin’ me?” 
You nod as you keep stroking his cock.  
Joel says, “Mmm hmm,” and looks at you curiously.  “Why’d ya say I don’t have to help?” His breathing is still heavy, but he’s trying to control it as you talk. 
You open your mouth but hesitate to answer. Instead, you stare down into the darkness, imagining what his cock must look like based on all the details that are gliding in and out of your hand.  He’s soooo hard.  
“You can tell me anything, pretty girl.”  He takes a deep breath. “We figure stuff out together, remember?” He breathes again. “Always do.” 
“Yeah,” you whisper, then you swallow. “I dunno how to say it,” you admit.  
“Do your best,” he says. 
“Since you’ve been helping me, I’ve been feeling it more often.”
“You have?” he asks. “Like how?” His hips subtly move as you keep stroking his cock. 
“Like during the day.  Randomly.” 
“That’s okay, baby.” 
“But it aches, and it’s distracting.” 
“Distracting?”  His voice becomes more strained. 
“I have a lot of thoughts all the time.” 
“What kinda thoughts, baby?”  His voice has a sense of urgency. 
“About you.” 
He moans softly. “Uh-huh. Like what?” 
“Um-”
“Tell me anything, baby,” he quickly reassures you, nearly out of breath.   
“About this,” you whisper. You pause to give his cock a squeeze to make sure he knows that’s what you’re talking about.  “Yeah, about this.” Then you continue stroking.  
“Ohh baby,” he exhales. “Course ya do.” 
“All the time,” you whisper. 
“And what about it?”  he pants.  
“I’m not sure,” you mutter.  
“Thinkin’ ‘bout me bein’ inside you?” he asks, still panting.  He moans softly.  
“Yeah,” you whisper. 
“Ohhhhhh, God,” he sighs as he begins to pulse into your hand. “God damn, baby,” he breathes as he releases his last hot, sticky rope into your fist.   
-
Joel catches his breath, then says, “'Course ya have those thoughts, sweetie. I have the same thoughts. Everyone does."  
“You do?” 
“It’s normal,.  They teach biology in FEDRA school right?” 
“Yeah.”
“It’s biology, honey.  Our bodies feel things for each other.  They wanna be together in the way they’re meant to.  It’s how we work -  Nothin’ but science.” 
You’re not sure how that’s supposed to help you.  
He reaches for his backpack and grabs some paper to wipe off your hand and his stomach. 
“So what do I do about it?” you ask him. 
He’s quiet for a few seconds.  "Let’s think about it, honey.  We’ll figure it out together.” 
“Okay.” 
“We’ll figure it out, sweetie.  We always do.” 
“Yeah.” 
He wraps himself around you and kisses your head, then you say good night.  You think about what he said so matter of factly.  The thought of it excites you but also scares you.  Especially now that you’ve felt how big he is with your hand for scale. 
🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤
Thank you so much for reading and engaging.  Love you guys <33
if you like this, please check out my dbf x innocent virgin! reader fic Left in Lincoln (dbf x virgin) which has been ongoing since April. Read warnings. Also, my master list has a virginity section on it.
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