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#i got some new followers so i figured now would be a good time to post a starter call :3
miller-n-morgan-2 · 2 days
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Take Me Home
4. John Fucking Marston
Arthur Morgan x Texas Red!Reader
A/n: GUYS I GRADUATED MY FROM MY COURSE! i give you this chapter as a token of my celebration... now I just have to make sure I don't have any models fall off the runway in my line up lmao
Summary: The newest arrival makes his way into camp, and inadvertently becomes the reason that chaos begins to spread. Luckily, his new uncle Arthur is there to carry the woes on his broad shoulders.
Warnings: mild swearing, canon typical violence, birth?? mentions of past death and Arthur remembering his deadbeat dad days. drinking, mild alcohol abuse?? also Hosea is a real one we love Hosea
WC: 4.5k
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“Need I remind you of the price you’re gonna pay?”  “She’ll be safe with you. The boy, too. I ain’t leavin’ them in incapable hands.” “But you’re leaving them,” Arthur reasoned, trying his best to make any last effort to save what could have been, but he knew his found brother would not be changing his mind. His only thought at this point was to beg him to stay. If only because he was the one who asked. “Don’t do this. They need you, we need you.”
A week after the heist, Arthur’s shoulder was feeling better… but his head was hurting like hell. 
In fact, on this specific night, nearly everyone’s head was throbbing on account of the wails and cries of terrible pain coming from the edge of camp. 
Abigail had gone into labor around five hours ago, and the little baby had still not come into the world yet. As of right now, the men were huddled close to the fire, passing around a fresh bottle of whiskey in attempts to pass out so they could get some sleep. Meanwhile, the women were rushing to and fro about the camp, working their asses off to bring a new life to the gang. 
You figured it would help you bond with the boys more if you sat with them, moaning and groaning about the noise… but you’d much rather be helping, making sure nothing went wrong in the tumultuous process of birth. 
It wasn’t until close to one in the morning that a tiny baby boy was born, strong as ever, with lungs so powerful they could blow a lark out of a tree. His cries replaced Abigails, but after all that time, everyone was pleased to know the delivery was over, and both parties were healthy and sound. 
The men did eventually pass out, all except two. 
Arthur and John were up till the crack of dawn arguing, and it didn’t look good from an outside perspective. 
You were about to take back towards your tent when you came across them, hurriedly getting out of their line of sight so you could listen without suspicion. You knew you had no right to eavesdrop, but with everything you’ve heard from Abigail concerning John, you were bursting with curiosity in a way that turned your stomach. 
“I don’t see why I need to be convinced otherwise,” John ripped into his dearest friend, and even from behind a wall of tented fabric, you could imagine the look on his face. 
“You’re makin’ a mistake right now, and you ain’t gonna see it until it’s too late.”
“How would you know? S’not like you did any better,” the tone of his voice was bitter, almost. John caught himself, taking a step back and breathing more evenly after his fit of anger. “I didn’t mean that, Arthur… but you oughta know where my head’s at.”
Arthur was silent, and you wished more than anything you could see the look on his face to determine how Marston had gotten to him. Was he saddened or angry? Maybe even confused? You didn’t know, but you didn’t have long to dwell on it. 
“You listen here, boy,” Arthur’s voice sounded threatening, intimidating. It was perhaps the scariest you’ve heard him speak. “You ain’t got no idea what’s comin’ to you if you leave. There will be no place in hell you’ll be able to hide from the decision you’re about to make. It’ll follow you the rest of your days, and haunt you when you’re dead, you understand me?”
John didn’t speak, didn’t answer or even mumble an excuse, he just walked away. He walked towards Abigail’s tent, ducking his head under and closing the front panel. You stood there stunned, afraid to move… but then Arthur came up around the backside of the area and scared the shit out of you. 
“You hear all that?” He asked, a slanted look in his eyes and a distaste for you in his tone. It might be the remnants from his past conversation, but you hate the way it sounds. 
“Arthur,” you caught your breath from the fright he gave you just in time to mumble out an apology. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be listenin’, but Abigail’s been telling me things and I just…”
He managed to huff out one silent breath of a laugh, shaking his head. 
“Don’t be fretin’ on my account, I ain’t mad at you.” 
You sighed in relief, stepping closer to him now that you didn’t feel so burdened. 
“I don’t know him very well, but what I’ve seen… he doesn’t know his head from his ass. Is he really gonna leave?”
“I don’t know,” he started, crossing his arms and letting out a small yawn. He’s just as tired as you are. “I think I just bought a few days, maybe more, but who knows.”
“You think he can change his mind?” You relaxed your demeanor in front of him, but kept your head on a swivel just in case
He was so tired, you felt bad for keeping him awake, but you figured these thoughts were weighing heavy on him, and it might be good to get it off his chest. “He’s far too stubborn to do it on his own. We’d all have to raise hell for him to think badly of his own choices.”
You frowned, turning towards the tent of the new, young family… There were already so many problems in their unit. 
“Poor Abigail.” 
She’d be alone, and with a child to take care of. And meanwhile John would be scott free and having the time of his life.
“She’ll be alright, her and the boy. I’ll make sure of it,” he nodded towards where you were staring. “Around the time he started acting up, I told her I’d marry her, be the kid’s father if she wanted me to.”
Your head snapped around to him, and you processed his words. Abigail told you about part of his offer, because you’d given her the same one, sans one detail…
“You’re gonna marry her?” 
“Only if she wants me to, if John leaves.”
Good to know… but not really. It looks to you like John is pretty set in his ways, even if he ends up staying through the week, or even more. 
You nodded to him, but you hated the notion that he could already be promised to another person, even if you had absolutely no plans on pursuing him yourself. It was a small little envious monster that crawled in the pit of your stomach, and for a split second, you felt yourself resenting Abigail, who thus far, had become your closest friend after Arthur. 
“I actually offered the same,” you laughed, shaking your head and kicking your boot into the ground. “Not that it would last, but I just wanted her to know I was willing to help.”
“The whole gang chips in here and there, bein’ a family and whatnot… She’ll never go without help,” he assured, his posture becoming heavier with each minute passing. 
“Yeah,” you cleared your throat and stretched your arms out, faking a massive yawn that looked real enough to pass you off. “It’s probably time we all turn in, huh?” 
For some reason he seemed vaguely sad for the interaction to be over. 
“Just about… I’ll catch you later, then,” he waved you off, heading back to his wagon and you to your tent. Even though they were relatively close, the entry points were on opposite sides.
You fell back into your cot with a heavy exhale. It’s been a long night, and with a crying baby in the camp, it’s looking to be a long next few months. 
-
The next few days were wonderful, despite the ill attitudes of a few grumbly men, Arthur not included. 
Dutch has been going on and on since the birth of the baby that the newest member should be given a worthy name. You assume he suggested his own namesake a few times, but since he’s been nothing but playful about the whole thing, you know he isn’t too bitter when they do finally settle on a name. 
Abigail picked it out, and you understand why. 
John Marston Jr, or as the two have taken to calling him already, Jack. 
You were surprised to see that waking up in the late afternoon the day of the birth, John was being… really different. He was putting in effort to help Abigail, he was making sure the others knew of all the information as it came, and most importantly, he was being positive about the whole situation. You suppose Arthur did knock some sense into him, and it was evident in how he was carrying himself. 
You weren’t sure how long it would last, but you felt relieved. Not only for Abigail, but selfishly, for yourself. If John sticks around and pulls his weight, Arthur doesn’t need to be tied down to a family. Not that he would ever see it that way, but still. 
You didn’t know where you stood with Arthur. He was a dear friend, you knew you could say that by now. You think that maybe the playful banter between you holds more than just friendship, but you can’t be sure, and you’re too damn chicken to test the waters. And obviously, a plain and simple conversation is entirely out of the question, because of ridiculous reasons you don’t care to list off. 
Maybe you’ll never know, and you’ll always be playing the game of ‘will we, won’t we’, unable to come to a sound conclusion. You think you’d be well enough with that, even if you never settle down with anyone. 
It’s a terrible absolute, and you should have never decided on it, but you think that being open ended and in this endless cycle of banter with Arthur is better than being in a committed relationship with anyone else. It makes the one on one interactions with him that much sweeter, though. Like today, when it was both your turns to watch baby Jack. The others were working on something in the town, and Abigail and some of the women were napping, having taken care of him through the night.
“He might be hungry,” you suggested, laughing at Arthur’s attempt to sooth the wailing infant. 
“I get hungry too, y’never see me cryin’ about it,” he was joking, clearly. He shook his head and reached for the glass bottle Miss Grimshaw had prepared this morning. 
Jack fed on the bottle and stopped crying, and in the aftermath, you paused to watch the scene before you. A big, gruff outlaw, with his hair tousled and shirt out of place from tiny hands fisting at it, and relaxed in his arms, a tiny baby being bottle fed. It was such a contradictory picture, but one you couldn’t tear your eyes away from. 
“Cute,” you mumbled, nearly under your breath, but he heard you. 
“He’s somethin’,” he chuckled, a small smile on his face when mentioning the boy he held so close. Arthur was many things, but amongst them was gentle. He was a kind creature by nature, that had only been hardened by experience, and these soft moments let his internal goodness show. 
“I meant you,” you teased, and he rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He didn’t even know how to respond for a second. 
“I’m quite the opposite, but I’ll thank you for the thought.”
As tough as he was, and as rightfully boastful over his skill with a weapon or with his bare hands, he seemed to negate himself often. His intelligence, his artistic talent, his looks, even his presence during group gatherings. It saddened you, and you didn’t even know the root of his struggle.
“Why you always doin’ that?” 
“Doin’ what?” he asked, his head tilted to the side and a narrow look on his face. 
“Bein’ mean to yourself…” you answered, sitting down on the other end of the log he was relaxing against. 
What a treat it would be for Arthur to see himself through your eyes. He’d never think poorly of himself again. 
“M’not, just the truth.” 
And that was even sadder. Who on earth ever convinced this man that he wasn’t good enough? Whoever it was, you’d like them to be on the other side of your pistol’s barrel. 
You huffed out a sigh, leaning forward so he didn’t have to strain his neck to look back at you. 
“Y’know it’s too damn bad, I happen to think you’re a pretty decent person. I pity anyone who thinks otherwise,” you spoke firmly, laying it on thick so that maybe he can come to terms with believing you. 
“Is that so?” 
“Mhm, very much so…”
He looked back down at Jack, trying to distract himself from your complimentary onslaught. He didn’t much care for compliments, so he wasn’t even sure how to receive them, if he accepted them at all. He has a very strong belief system, and it’s constantly just a mantra of things like ‘I am a bad man, I do bad things, I am dangerous, I am getting old, I am ugly,’ and so on. He didn’t understand how much he had hurt himself by forming those beliefs in the first place. 
You sat with him in silence for a few minutes, just watching Jack finish the bottle and settle into Arthur’s arm for a nap. He slept a lot for someone that cries through the night. Hearing the soft cries in the night isn’t peaceful, but it’s better than the anxiety and feeling of dread his cries brought you the first day, when John was set on leaving. 
You keep replaying a moment from that morning in your head, when the sun was just over the ridge, and you were heading to your tent… 
“Arthur?” 
“Yeah?” He turned his head again.
“The day he was born… that argument between you and John,” you wanted to make sure you phrased this correctly, unsure if it was a sensitive topic. “He’d apologized for sayin’ something… Sayin’ that you didn’t do any better? What was he talkin’ about?” 
Arthur took a deep inhale and shifted around in his seat, the ground beneath him feeling like it could cave in just at your words. John had struck deep with what he’d said, but having to rehash it, and with you… it wasn’t a thing he’d ever do for fun, to put it nicely. 
“I mean, him talkin’ about leaving Abigail, and you givin’ her your offer… You’re already better than he is.”
“I wasn’t always,” he shook his head. “Holdin’ him like this, it makes me remember just how terrible I am.”
You sank down from the log and scooted closer to him. No one in camp was around to see, so you didn’t bother looking. His eyes got foggy without even going into detail, so you didn’t push… but he seemed to open up on his own. 
“I had a boy when I was John’s age. Same situation n’ all,” he shook his head, trying to keep his sights on the ground in front of him. The longer he held Jack, the worse this feeling got, but he knew it wouldn’t ever go away, not really. Not with a new and constant reminder of his past. “His momma and I, we didn’t get on too well, so I kept with the gang. Didn’t ever come around except when we passed through that town. Could count on two hands the times I saw my own son…”
You didn’t know what to make of this. He has a son? Does he keep contact with him? You’re unsure if you want to know all the details, because hearing it as is, sounds messy. 
“Where does he live?” 
You had no idea that you’d just asked the worst question in response… but how else were you supposed to know? This was the first you’d heard of Arthur’s son. 
“He uh… he died, about three years ago,” Arthur shook his head, swallowing back the lump in his throat, though his teary eyes persisted. “They both did... I came back one day, and found two crosses in the yard. I asked around, townsfolk said a group of robbers came through and raided several homes.”
“Arthur…” you grabbed his arm gently, trying to convey your sympathy, and your sadness. 
“I knew it had been my fault. If I had been there, my son would be alive, his mother, too.” 
A cloud had rolled over the sun, and shrouded in a temporary shade of darkened light, the mood felt heavier than even his words could convey. This man and his layers, being peeled away before you… it was both touching, and terrible. You had no idea a man was capable of feeling so deeply, of being so open about his past and regrets. You’d never seen a man cry before. 
“Issac and Eliza were their names,” he finally looked at you, tears escaping his eyes at a rapid pace. He let them fall, somehow knowing you wouldn’t judge him for it. “And they aren’t here because of me.” 
You gently raised a hand and wiped his cheeks with your thumb, leaving your hand there for as long as he would let you. 
“I’m so sorry, Arthur…” 
Nothing you could say or do would help to heal his wounds, but you wanted to try. Wanted to be there for him, whatever that meant. You and him got on well. You were friends, but there was competition between you, all a part of your banter. You supposed you’d feel inclined to let him win in any circumstance from now on, just because you couldn’t bear to make him upset. Seeing him this way broke your heart, but it also empowered you in some way. To be more empathetic, and kind, and to not let your anger get the better of you. You’ve proven to him in the past that you were a hot head, no pun intended. You would have to be mindful of letting yourself fly off the hinge to him in the future. 
“Even if John doesn’t leave… I swear I’m gonna do right by this boy,” he let out, his voice trembling but his words were of certainty. 
You felt a tear roll down your own cheek, and did nothing to stop it. This moment, whatever it was, you wanted to feel it. Wanted to keep it buried within the depths of your soul. 
You’ve been on the run for four years now, and in those four years, you’ve been on your own, making some sort of fantasy world for yourself where death was just the thing at the end of a duel, and you never had to pay the toll of those losses. 
You’d not been living in reality, and coming to this gang, meeting Arthur… it must have been preordained. It must have been fate. He himself, day by day, was restoring your humanity, and your ability to feel something that wasn’t just a farce.
“Thank you for telling me,” you whispered, but being so close, he heard you clearly. 
He let out a huff that you suppose was meant to be a soft laugh. “You don’t just hear me, Red… you listen to me. I guess I’ll keep on tellin’ you things.”
And soon both your attentions were pulled back to Jack as he stirred slightly. 
You took a turn holding him while Arthur went to grab some food, and you found you rather liked this particular baby. He was a sweet little thing, not so bratty like the tiny cousins you grew up around. You can only hope he’ll stay this sweet as he grows older. 
-
A month had passed, and John was getting more angsty. 
Arthur was honestly surprised he had lasted this long. It seemed impossible that he stuck around, especially when he had to be the one to take a turn with the baby during the night. 
Fights had broken out with various members of the camp, mostly over John and his unwillingness to help anymore. Dutch had chewed him up and spit him out, and after that, John had made up his mind, for certain this time. 
“You ain’t leavin’, just sit down,” Arthur pulled him back by the shoulder, trying to stop him from packing up and saddling his horse.
“What makes you think I would stay with a bunch of folk who hate me?”
“We don’t hate you, you’re bein’ ridiculous. Sit down, we’ll talk about it.” Arthur tried to reach out for him again, but John pulled himself back and out of the way, two steps from the hitching post. “Boy, you’re not goin’ anywhere-”
“I’m leaving!” John burst out, taking Arthur by surprise. This wasn’t just another hissy fit or tantrum where he would eventually let it stew over. He was really gonna do it. “The kid ain’t mine, I counted back. She’s just try’na tie me down, Arthur... I feel for her, but I ain’t stayin.”
“Need I remind you of the price you’re gonna pay?” 
“She’ll be safe with you. The boy, too. I ain’t leavin’ them in incapable hands.”
“But you’re leaving them,” Arthur reasoned, trying his best to make any last effort to save what could have been, but he knew his found brother would not be changing his mind. His only thought at this point was to beg him to stay. If only because he asked. “Don’t do this. They need you, we need you.”
“You don’t need me, Arthur. You’re the better one, always were…” 
“C’mon now, you know that ain’t true. S’just another excuse,” he waved his arms around, trying to emphasize just how stupid it sounded. Yes, it’s all Arthur’s fault that John is leaving. 
John doesn’t even answer Arthur, he just turns heel and readies his horse, all while the older of the two stands by and ridicules him for what he’s about to do. All John can do is tune him out, and pretend he doesn’t hear the distant crying at the other edge of camp, where Susan is trying to console a tired and emotionally devastated Abigail. Their son sleeps in Tilly’s arms, oblivious to anything happening around him, but what’s to come will put a damper on his previously bright future. 
By the time John is on his horse, loaded up and ready to head out, Arthur grabs hold of his leg, yanking it back from the stirrup. He looks to his eyes one more time, to see if there’s any guilt, any resolve, anything that might show he knows what he’s doing is wrong… but he only sees annoyance and pride. Two things John Marston usually wore on his face. 
“If you leave this camp, you best never come back again, ya hear?” 
And for the first time that night, Arthur saw just a shred of fear in the younger man’s eyes. 
“I hear,” he nodded, the fear turning into sadness in this last moment. “It just ain’t worth it no more.”
And with that, he turned his horse, and left the camp. 
Arthur went storming through the camp after the interaction, needing to find himself a drink. 
-
You were angry and rightfully so, stomping back into camp like a bear hunting its prey. Walking up to the campfire, there were only a few left awake. Pearson and Hosea sat, hunched over and with half full whiskey bottles in their hands. Probably from the stolen stash, the brand was decent.
“Anyone seen Arthur?” You asked them both, knowing that at least Hosea could tell you. 
“He passed out ages ago,” He nodded towards his covered wagon near the trees and rocks separating your space. “John left camp tonight.”
“I know, I caught him outside the saloon,” you sat down by them, reaching out for either bottle they were willing to hand over. “Gimme some of that, will ya?”
And of course, drinking was the solution at the end of the day. 
After a while, Pearson dragged himself to bed, leaving you and Hosea to sit and stew by the fire, milling about your tumultuous thoughts. You should have known he’d ask for details of your run in with John. 
“I was out scouting today… realized I needed to go to town for a pair of socks, mine got holes too big for sewin’,” you began, gaze trapped on the fire, the alcohol making it harder to focus on anything else at once. “Came outside and found him hitchin’ his horse.”
“You were the one who approached him, then?” 
“I thought about just wavin’, I thought I’d be seein’ him back here… but then I looked at his saddle. He was packed up for the trek of a million miles,” you sighed, taking another big swig of the pricey whiskey in your hand. You would finish the bottle in no time if you kept up like this, trying to quench your raging thirst for something strong and potent.
“What did you say to him?” 
“Nothing really, not at first. Just asked how the day had been, how Abigail was. I haven’t been here since this morning. I guess they started fighting real bad after I left. Dutch tore into him, too,” you spoke heavily, suddenly the swigs you were slamming back were making you a bit less understandable. Hosea though, was easily able to listen, because after years of Arthur’s drunk slurring, and having to make out sentences between, he was practically an expert. “All I said was that he shouldn’t leave, because he’ll regret it.”
“And I suppose that didn’t help.”
“Nah, he just told me where to shove it. I think he’s scared… not of the kid, and not of Abigail. I think he doesn’t wanna end up like his father. Arthur’s told me something about it, but in my opinion, he’s trying to get out before the resentment turns to abuse n’ all that.”
“I reckon you're right. We all told him time and again he’d be a good father, but he’s stubborn as they come, and when his mind’s made up… there’s no stopping that boy.” Hosea shook his head once more, his sadness reflecting in the light of the fire. 
“I guess Arthur’s gonna marry Abigail, now…” you knew you were just trailing into your thoughts, and that while getting more drunk, you shouldn’t be saying them out loud… but you couldn’t help it. Selfishly, on your ride back to camp, this is all you thought about. 
“He offered, it’s up to Abigail to accept,” he said gently, raising his brows in thought as well. He doesn’t see it as a good match, but he thinks it’s honorable that Arthur would do such a thing. 
“I hope she doesn’t,” you murmured quietly, but it seems he still heard you. 
“What was that?” 
“Nothing, m’just gettin’ drunk.”
He chuckled under his breath, his side eye remaining on your features just a while longer before he stood up, patting you on the shoulder. 
“Don’t drink too much more. You’ll pass out before making the trip to your tent.”
And then he left you alone. With your thoughts and a bottle of whiskey in hand, who knows what more you could do in a situation like this. It was better to cut your losses and just turn in… so you did. 
Laying down on your cot, you expected sleep to take you. It should have, given how tired you were, but the single notion kept echoing in your head over and over…
Arthur Morgan isn’t mine, and he never was.
Tags: @photo1030 @sheepdogchick @snoopysshark @strvberrydoll @yyiikes @phantasyy @puffyhairedhipster @scorpio-echo
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maureen-corpse · 3 days
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All the news that's fit to print from r/fountainpens
So, I alluded yesterday to drama about fountain pen retailers and then I promised in the notes that I might write about the drama. And by golly, I'm going to do that!
First, caveats: I am not deeply involved in r/fountainpens (I only read and never post). I have seen some people talk about a related Discord server, which I am also not a part of. I am generally not deeply involved in the fountain pen community at large. I did join Fountain Pen Network at some point but I haven't posted in years. So, I was not involved in any of the interactions I'm going to talk about, and because some things have been deleted or only talked about, I'm going to be going off of my recollections. Remember, witness testimony is not always reliable! And witness testimony of witness testimony? Goodness gracious.
Also, this may get long, so buckle up.
Now, let's get started.
This is about the Goulet Pen Company. The Goulet Pen Company (GPC or Goulet) is a Virginia-based online seller of fountain pens and related paraphernalia: ink, paper, accessories, some glass dip pens, an occasional rollerball, etc. GPC also features a lot of useful educational tools, such as videos about pens and their various types and the handy Nib Nook, where you can compare the writing of different nibs with most variables removed. Goulet isn't really unusual for this; JetPens, for example, has guides as well. English does love alliteration, though, it has to be said. Go read Beowulf.
Goulet has also been producing a podcast, or as it is more commonly known, the Goulet Pencast, for some time. The main face of the Pencast is Drew Brown (along with Brian Goulet). Now, here's the big thing: Drew is no longer with GPC. The Pencast took a brief hiatus, and people who follow it were concerned, and the most recent episode confirmed that Drew would no longer be a part of the Goulet Pen Company or the Pencast. Drew is a much beloved figure. I personally never got into the Pencast (listen, the episodes are long!), but I saw him in product videos and never saw a reason to dislike him, so I'm sure that the Pencast was a way people really got to know and love him.
Now, Brian and Rachel Goulet, in the most recent episode, did not go into detail about why Drew was no longer with GPC; they confirmed his departure and expressed their sadness. Many r/fountainpen users would like to know more, and so they began speculating. Some came up with benign or not actually that fun for subreddit drama reasons: maybe Drew just moved on. Maybe there was a dispute over pay. Maybe Drew or a family member had a health issue he needed to leave to focus on. Other things were proposed: maybe it was actually a difference of political opinion--Drew seems to lean more liberal whereas the Goulets seem to lean more conservative.
At some point, someone pointed out this portion of a Goulet newsletter that had been sent out (apparently in August):
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I admit: To me, this reads like a pretty typical "Hi we are a small business in the southern United States so here are three vague paragraphs about our life so that this marketing material we're sending has that personal family touch" thing.
However, some redditors latched on to the bit about them being on the startup team for a new church, and that fueled some of the speculation that Drew left Goulet because of political differences.
Now, here's where the Lockening began: someone figured out what the startup church was, probably using known facts about the Goulets (their location in Virginia and the date of the first service noted by Rachel above), and they found the startup church's parent church. And they found a podcast put out by that parent church and they hurried to r/fountainpens to post screenshots of a transcript from that podcast where the speaker compares homosexuality to murder. In the sense of "glorifying sins" or whatever, not saying "killing a man is the same as fucking him." This is the kind of rhetoric I see a lot, so I don't really get surprised and appalled by it the way some folks do. Anyway, the issue then became: do the Goulets espouse these beliefs?
Well, not to worry: someone else found a statement of belief from one of the churches and posted that! (No, I don't recall if it was the parent or the startup, and sadly, I don't have a screenshot.) Anyway, yes, they weren't big on homosexuality, and they were fans of male headship of the family. So fun. There was, interestingly, a line about how complete agreement wasn't necessary for membership in the church.
We don't actually know, still, if the Goulets espouse these beliefs. They're part of the launch team for this church, but I've seen people go to pretty big extremes for churches they don't share beliefs with simply because they like a style of worship better. People put blinders on all the time for things. (Am I making excuses for the Goulets here? I don't know. Maybe I'm trying to be a North Carolinian saying something nice about Virginians for once. I still don't like how they drive.)
Someone also pointed out that fairly recently GPC did advertise products in Pride Month. I don't think it's something they do consistently and the instance someone referenced was in 2022 or something, but that's not a long time ago.
Anyway, that thread was quickly locked, and as far as I can tell, has been deleted. This has not stopped other redditors from making new threads to try and discuss the Goulet Problem further, or to decry the actions of the mods, or to recommend queer-friendly fountain pen stores. These threads are also being locked.
An added bonus is that now without that thread for easy reference--even if it's just locked that means it can't stay at the top for discussion--some people now think Brian was on a podcast saying homosexuality was identical to murder. So! It's a mess! The fountain pen users are pretty cranky. I think that's where we are now, and I think that sums it up, for the most part. I welcome corrections and additional screenshots if people have them. 🫡
And I have not even gotten into the Noodler's thing here. And you know what? I don't think I will.
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be4chywritez · 12 hours
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sweet nothing | oscar piastri
oscar piastri x heiress!reader
I find myself runnin’ home to your sweet nothings
request : heiress of mclaren and oscar they meet at like a dinner at her estate or something and her dad or like father figure asks if oscar is single, and oscar says yes and her father figure tells them to go on a date and they end up going out maybe oscar is a lil asshole😊
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You brush the dirt off your hands, glancing proudly at the roses you’ve just planted. The soil is warm under your fingers, and you lean back, wiping sweat from your forehead. A small smile plays on your lips as you admire the neat rows of blooms, but your peace is broken when you hear your name being called.
You turn, blinking against the sunlight, and spot your grandfather standing by the patio, his brows furrowed in that way he always does when he’s trying to look serious. Lando stands beside him, grinning widely, and next to him is someone you don’t recognize—a tall guy with messy brown hair and a quiet expression.
Your grandfather calls again, his voice a little sharper now. “Come here for a moment.”
You dust your hands off on your shorts and shuffle over, feeling the light breeze cool the sweat on your skin. Lando’s grin widens as you approach. “Still playing in the dirt, I see,” he teases.
“Always,” you respond, flashing him a playful smile. Your gaze drifts to the new guy, and your curiosity piques. He stands a little more stiffly than Lando, like he’s not quite sure what to do with himself. There’s something about the way he glances at you—polite, but distant—that makes you feel like you’re meeting someone important.
“This is Oscar Piastri,” Lando says, nudging the guy next to him. “Newest McLaren driver.”
Oscar smiles at you, though it’s small and a bit shy, like he’s not used to all the attention. “Hi,” he says, his accent lilting in a way that catches your attention.
“Hi,” you reply, a little awkward, but you can’t help but smile back. You try to remember if you’ve heard his name before, but your mind draws a blank. Racing was never something you followed closely, even if it was always around you.
Before you can say anything else, your grandfather clears his throat, his eyes twinkling with something that makes you uneasy. “Oscar’s a fine driver,” he says, his voice heavy with authority. “I think it would be good for you two to spend some time together.”
You blink, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “Wait… what?”
Your grandfather’s expression doesn’t falter. He crosses his arms, the hint of a smirk on his lips. “Oscar, are you single?” he asks, turning the conversation before you can even process what he’s suggesting.
Oscar looks a little startled, his eyes darting from your grandfather to you, then back again. “Uh, yes, sir,” he answers, and you notice his fingers fidget slightly, like he’s not sure how to react either.
“Good,” your grandfather replies, his tone firm. “Then I suggest you take my granddaughter out on a date.”
You feel your cheeks warm, your mouth dropping open slightly. “A—date?”
Oscar looks as surprised as you feel, and for a second, you’re not sure who’s more uncomfortable. But then he nods, his voice soft but steady. “If that’s what you want, sir.”
You don’t know what to say. You glance at Oscar, who looks just as confused as you are, but there’s something in his gaze—something careful and maybe even curious. He doesn’t seem like the type to argue with your grandfather, and honestly, neither are you.
Lando, ever the instigator, lets out a low chuckle. “Well, this just got interesting.”
You smile awkwardly, not sure what to make of it all. Oscar offers you a small, almost apologetic smile, and you feel a strange flutter in your chest. Maybe it won’t be so bad. He seems nice enough, and if nothing else, it’ll be a chance to get to know him.
The next day, you find yourself standing in front of a trendy restaurant in the heart of the city. It’s not the quiet, tucked-away café you were imagining, but rather a bustling spot with large windows, modern decor, and a steady stream of people coming and going. Your stomach twists with nervous excitement as you spot Oscar standing by the entrance, looking cool and collected in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans.
“Hey,” he greets you with a brief smile, his hands in his pockets. There’s a casual confidence in the way he stands, but something about his demeanor feels a little… distant, like he’s already halfway checked out of the conversation before it even begins.
“Hey,” you reply, smiling back as he steps aside to let you walk in first. The restaurant hums with energy—clinking glasses, soft chatter, and the occasional laugh. You feel a little out of place, like maybe this is fancier than you were expecting.
Oscar pulls out your chair, but there’s something about the motion that feels more like routine than a thoughtful gesture. As you sit down, he moves quickly to his own seat, already glancing at the menu like this is just another pit stop in his day.
“So, you like this place?” you ask, trying to break the ice.
“Yeah,” Oscar says with a short nod, eyes still scanning the menu. “It’s close by, and the food’s good.” His tone is polite, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s keeping things at arm’s length.
You fiddle with your napkin, glancing around at the other patrons—groups of friends laughing together, couples holding hands. You can’t help but feel a little self-conscious. You were hoping for something quieter, more personal, but this feels… different.
The waiter comes by, and you both place your orders. Oscar seems at ease, chatting with the waiter casually, but when his attention turns back to you, there’s a moment of awkward silence. You search for something to say, but it’s hard to get a read on him. He’s polite, sure, but there’s a wall up—one you can’t quite figure out how to get past.
“So, what do you do for fun?” you ask, trying to steer the conversation into something light.
Oscar leans back, shrugging a little. “Mostly training, to be honest. Racing takes up a lot of my time.”
You nod, not sure what to say next. He’s not giving you much to work with, and you start to wonder if this was a bad idea. Maybe he’s just busy, or maybe he’s just not interested. Either way, the conversation feels stilted, like you’re trying too hard to fill the gaps.
“Do you follow F1?” he asks, breaking the silence.
You bite your lip, feeling a little embarrassed. “Honestly, not really,” you admit. “I mean, I know about it because of my family, but I’ve never really been that into it.”
Oscar raises an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Kind of ironic, don’t you think?”
You flush slightly, not sure how to take that. “Yeah, I guess so.”
He doesn’t push further, just takes a sip of his water and glances out the window, his mind seemingly elsewhere. You feel a flicker of disappointment. This wasn’t how you imagined your first date going—Oscar seemed nice enough, but there’s a coolness to him that you can’t shake.
As the food arrives, you try to make the best of the situation, steering the conversation back to lighter topics. You talk about your garden again, hoping to spark some interest, but while Oscar listens, he doesn’t offer much in return. Every now and then, he glances at his phone, not enough to be rude, but enough to make you wonder if he’s distracted by something else.
“Sorry,” he says once, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “Just… work stuff.”
You nod, trying to brush it off, but it adds to the growing sense that maybe this date isn’t a priority for him. You had expected a chance to connect, to get to know him beyond the racer image, but it feels like you’re barely scratching the surface.
Still, you don’t want to give up just yet.
“Have you always wanted to be a driver?” you ask, genuinely curious.
Oscar’s gaze flicks to you, his expression softening slightly. “Yeah, since I was a kid. I was pretty focused on it, even when I was younger. It’s all I’ve ever really wanted to do.”
For a moment, you see a glimpse of something more—a passion that runs deep, something that makes him tick. But just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone again, his expression neutral once more.
The rest of the meal passes in a blur of small talk and polite conversation, but the spark you had hoped for never really comes. As the check arrives, Oscar pulls out his card without hesitation, glancing at you with a half-smile.
“Ready to head out?” he asks.
You nod, feeling a little deflated, but you don’t want to show it. Maybe this was just a bad day for him. Maybe he’s just not the type to open up easily. Either way, you feel like there’s something you’re missing, something that keeps him at a distance.
As you both step out into the cool evening air, Oscar walks you to the curb where his car is parked. He pauses for a moment, looking at you, and for a brief second, you wonder if he’s going to say something that might change the tone of the evening.
But instead, he just smiles—a little tired, a little distracted. “It was nice hanging out with you,” he says, his tone polite but nothing more.
“Yeah, it was,” you reply, trying to match his energy, though the words feel hollow.
Oscar opens the car door for you, and as you slide in, you can’t help but wonder what’s really going on behind those guarded eyes. There’s something he’s not telling you—something that keeps him from fully being here with you.
As he drives you home, the silence between you grows, and you find yourself staring out the window, wondering if maybe you were hoping for too much too soon.
Despite the awkwardness of the first date, Oscar lingers in your thoughts more than you’d like to admit. There’s something about him—his quiet intensity, the way he carries himself—that draws you in, even if he hasn’t fully opened up to you yet. Maybe it’s just the mystery of it all. Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s unlike anyone you’ve dated before.
Your crush sneaks up on you slowly. You catch yourself thinking about what you’ll wear next time you see him. You imagine different scenarios in your head—how the next date might go, whether he’ll be more relaxed, more present. You convince yourself that it’s just a matter of time.
When the next race rolls around, you decide to attend. You tell yourself it’s because you’re supporting McLaren, but deep down, you know it’s because of Oscar. Even though things were a little off between you two, there’s a part of you that’s eager to see him again. Maybe things will be different this time.
The race is packed with spectators, and the air hums with excitement. As you weave through the crowds, you feel a mixture of nerves and anticipation. Watching Oscar on the track feels different now—you’re not just another fan in the stands. You’re here for him, and that thought makes your heart race a little faster.
The race itself is thrilling, and you can’t help but feel happiness as Oscar crosses the finish line. He doesn’t win, but he holds his own, finishing in a solid position. You smile, thinking about how you’ll congratulate him afterward.
After the race, you find your way to the paddock, your heart pounding in your chest as you spot Oscar among the throngs of people. He’s surrounded by his team, all smiles and handshakes as they celebrate a job well done. When he sees you, his expression flickers for a moment—recognition, maybe a touch of something softer—but it’s gone just as quickly as it appears.
“Hey,” you greet him, your voice a little too bright. “Congrats on the race.”
“Thanks,” Oscar replies, offering you a polite smile. His demeanor is cool, but not unfriendly—just… reserved. You start to notice the subtle distance between you, like he’s here, but not entirely.
“Maybe we could grab a drink later?” you suggest, your tone casual, but your nerves bubbling beneath the surface.
Oscar glances at his watch, then back at you. “Yeah, maybe. Let’s see how the rest of the day goes.”
It’s not a no, but it’s not exactly the enthusiastic yes you were hoping for either. Still, you brush it off, telling yourself that he’s probably just tired from the race.
You stand there for a moment, watching Oscar disappear into the crowd. There’s a strange feeling lingering in your chest—something about the interaction seemed… off. But before you can get too deep in your thoughts, a familiar voice breaks through.
“Already scaring him off?” Lando teases, sidling up to you with his usual playful grin.
You turn to him, laughing despite yourself. “Please, Lando. I’m not that terrifying.”
He leans against the nearby barrier, looking at you with a twinkle in his eye. “Nah, just a little intimidating with your… I don’t know, your knowledge of roses or whatever.”
You roll your eyes, giving him a light shove. “Not my fault you have no appreciation for fine horticulture.”
“Fine horticulture,” he repeats with mock seriousness, his lips twitching into a smirk. “But seriously, how’s it going? Did Oscar hit you with that ‘strong and silent’ routine, or is he actually saying words now?”
You pause, trying to figure out how to answer. “He’s… quiet, yeah. But I think there’s more to him than he lets on.”
Lando hums, crossing his arms. “Oh, there’s definitely more. Just give him time. Maybe flash him a few more of those smiles—you know, the ones that make people all… swoony.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “I’ll be sure to use my superpowers wisely, then.”
Before Lando can retort, Oscar’s figure appears again, cutting through the crowd and making his way back toward you both. You feel a flutter of surprise. He was distant before, but now there’s a new intensity in his gaze.
“Hey,” Oscar says, glancing briefly at Lando before turning to you. “I was thinking, maybe we could grab those drinks after all?”
You blink, taken aback. “Yeah? I thought you weren’t sure about it earlier.”
Oscar shrugs slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting into the faintest of smiles. “Changed my mind. If you’re still up for it.”
Lando snickers quietly next to you, clearly amused by the shift in Oscar’s tone. “Well, that sounds like a yes to me.”
You can’t help but smile, a warm excitement bubbling up inside you. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
The bar Oscar takes you to is tucked away in the city, with low lighting and soft music humming in the background. It’s more intimate than the first restaurant—smaller, cozier. It makes you feel like this is something real, like there’s something between you both that’s beginning to take shape.
You sit across from each other at a small table, nursing drinks, and for a while, the conversation flows. Oscar’s a bit more relaxed than usual, and it makes you feel like maybe you’re finally cracking the surface, finally getting to see the person behind the cool, quiet exterior.
“So,” you say, taking a sip of your drink. “What made you change your mind? You seemed… hesitant before.”
Oscar looks at you for a moment, like he’s trying to come up with the right words. “I guess I just thought it might be fun after all. Figured it couldn’t hurt to get to know each other better.”
You smile, feeling a flutter of hope. “Yeah. I’m glad you did.”
For a few more minutes, the conversation rolls on, and you find yourself leaning into it—into him. He’s attentive, even charming in his own way, and you can’t help but feel your heart begin to race a little faster. But then, just as things seem to settle into a comfortable rhythm, his phone lights up on the table.
You catch a glimpse of the screen out of the corner of your eye—a name you don’t recognize, followed by a few messages that he quickly swipes away without reading. It’s subtle, almost like he’s trying not to let you see it, but the moment leaves a faint unease in the back of your mind.
You push the feeling aside, convincing yourself it’s nothing. Probably just a friend or someone from the team. But when his phone lights up again, this time with a more persistent vibration, it’s harder to ignore.
“Everything okay?” you ask, trying to keep your voice casual.
“Yeah,” Oscar says, his tone clipped as he checks his phone again before silencing it. “Just some messages. Nothing important.”
You nod, but the way he’s so quick to brush it off leaves you feeling unsettled. It’s like there’s a part of him still walled off, something he’s not telling you. But you don’t press, don’t want to ruin the moment.
As the evening goes on, you notice him glancing at his phone a few more times. The distraction is subtle, but it’s there, casting a small shadow over what otherwise feels like a perfect night.
You try to brush it off, reminding yourself that he’s a busy guy—he probably has a million things going on at once. But as the drinks dwindle and the conversation slows, you can’t help but feel like there’s something—or someone—else that’s occupying his thoughts.
The days after your drink date are… strange. You had hoped that spending more time with Oscar would bring you closer together, but instead, things feel more distant than ever. He’s not cold, not exactly, but there’s a guardedness to him that wasn’t there before.
He texts you, asks how you’re doing, but it’s never as warm as you want it to be. You tell yourself that maybe he’s just busy, that it’s just part of being a driver in such a high-stakes sport. But deep down, there’s a little voice in your head whispering that something isn’t right.
You push it aside, trying to focus on the excitement of seeing him again. When he suggests going to the beach, you jump at the chance, eager to spend more time with him.
The breeze is warm, a gentle contrast to the coolness of the sand beneath your feet as you walk side by side with Oscar. The beach is quieter than usual, only a few scattered people, and the rhythmic crash of the waves fills the gaps between your conversation. There’s a lightness to the moment—a sense of possibility. You sneak a glance at Oscar, feeling a small spark of excitement flutter in your chest.
You tell yourself not to read too much into it. But there’s a softness in his smile when he looks at you, a hint of something more, and you can’t help but wonder if this is what falling for someone is supposed to feel like.
“You’ve been quiet,” Oscar says, his voice cutting through the hum of the waves. He nudges you lightly with his arm, a playful gesture that makes you smile despite the nervousness you’ve felt creeping in since the start of the date.
“Just… thinking,” you reply, your eyes drifting out to the horizon where the sun is starting to dip low. “This is nice, though. I like spending time with you.”
You mean it. Despite the moments of awkwardness and the hesitations that have clouded your other dates, something about being here—walking with him along the shoreline—feels right. You’ve never had a relationship that felt this natural before. There’s always been some underlying expectation, some hidden motive from the people in your life who wanted you for your family’s name and status.
But with Oscar, you want to believe it’s different. You want to believe he likes you for you.
Oscar clears his throat, breaking the moment. “Yeah, it’s been good,” he says, his tone almost too casual. There’s a flicker of discomfort behind his words, like he’s trying to keep things light.
Before you can dwell on it, a voice cuts through the air, drawing both of your attentions.
“Oscar! Is that really you?”
You turn, and your heart sinks as you see a tall, stunning woman walking toward the two of you. She’s dressed effortlessly, her dark hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, and she carries herself with a confidence that immediately makes you feel small.
Oscar’s reaction is immediate—his posture stiffens, his eyes darting away from yours as he rubs the back of his neck. “Hey, uh… didn’t expect to see you here.
Her eyes flick between you and Oscar, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she takes in the sight of you together. “It’s been a while,” she says, her tone smooth, easy. “Didn’t think you’d be back in town.”
You stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to do or say, and the moment stretches painfully long. The familiarity between them is palpable, and a sinking feeling starts to form in your stomach.
“I’m just here for a bit,” Oscar replies, his voice suddenly lacking the warmth it had moments ago. He seems uncomfortable—like he’s trying to get through this interaction as quickly as possible.
The woman shifts her gaze to you, her smile widening just enough to make you feel scrutinized. “And who’s this?” she asks, as if you’re a new accessory she’s appraising.
You offer a small, polite smile, though your chest feels tight. “I’m—”
“Just a friend,” Oscar cuts in quickly, his voice sharp and clipped.
The words hang in the air, and your breath catches. You look at him, confused, hurt—but he won’t meet your gaze. The woman gives a small, almost amused laugh before waving it off.
“Well, I won’t keep you,” she says with a teasing tone, her eyes lingering on Oscar for just a second too long. “Catch you later, Piastri.”
With that, she walks away, her footsteps light on the sand, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. The sound of the waves seems distant now, like you’re underwater, and the weight of what Oscar just said presses heavily on your chest.
Just a friend.
You force yourself to swallow the lump forming in your throat, pretending the words didn’t sting as much as they did. “Who was that?” you ask quietly, trying to keep your voice steady.
Oscar sighs, his hand dropping to his side. “No one important,” he says, though the tension in his voice betrays him. He turns to look at you, but there’s something distant in his eyes—something guarded that wasn’t there before.
You nod slowly, feeling a pang of disappointment settle deep in your chest. The connection you thought you were building suddenly feels fragile, like it could shatter at any moment.
For the rest of the walk along the beach, neither of you says much. The easy conversation, the subtle glances—all of it feels like it’s gone. Replaced by a silence that only grows heavier with each step.
You’re quiet when you get home, your heart heavy with the weight of everything that happened at the beach. You try to shake it off, but the look in Oscar’s eyes, the tension between him and Ellie—it’s all you can think about.
Your grandfather is in the sitting room when you walk in, his expression softening when he sees you.
“How was the date?” he asks, his voice gentle.
You open your mouth to respond, but the words get caught in your throat. You want to tell him it was fine, that everything’s okay—but you can’t lie. Not this time.
“Please,” you whisper, your voice trembling, “don’t force people to like me.”
Your grandfather’s face falls, his brow furrowing in concern. He reaches out to you, but you pull away, the tears already starting to form.
“I just… I don’t want to be an obligation,” you say, your voice breaking. “I want someone to like me because they want to—not because they feel like they have to.”
That night, after you’ve retreated to your room, your grandfather makes a call. He doesn’t tell you about it, doesn’t let on that he’s taken matters into his own hands. When Oscar picks up, he’s met with your grandfather’s firm voice.
“I’m sending the two of you to the ranch in Texas,” your grandfather says. “You’ll leave tomorrow.”
Oscar tries to protest, but your grandfather won’t hear it. “You’ll go,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You owe her that much.”
You sat in the plush leather seat of your grandfather’s private jet, the tension between you and Oscar thick and palpable. Neither of you had spoken much since the beach incident, and you weren’t sure how you felt about being sent off to Texas together. The thought of spending more time with him, especially after everything that had happened, made your stomach churn.
Oscar sat across from you, his eyes flickering up occasionally, as if he was gathering the courage to say something, but each time, the words seemed to die in his throat. You focused on the window instead, watching the runway lights blur as the plane took off.
“I know you’re upset,” Oscar finally said, breaking the silence, his voice quiet yet steady. “I want to explain, but I don’t think words are enough right now.”
You glanced at him, biting the inside of your cheek. Part of you wanted to hear him out, to understand why he had been so distant, but another part of you didn’t care anymore. The truth was, you felt used—like you were just another part of the game, just another person he didn’t really care about.
“I don’t want to hear it right now,” you said, shaking your head. “We’ll go on this trip, but when we get back to London, we tell my grandfather that it didn’t work out. And Oscar…” You hesitated, the weight of your next words crushing you. “Please don’t let anyone know that I was the other woman.”
Oscar’s face twisted, regret filling his expression. “I swear, I won’t say a word.”
You nodded, turning away from him. The rest of the flight passed in heavy silence.
When you arrived in Texas, the sprawling estate greeted you with its endless fields and the familiar scent of wildflowers. Despite the awkwardness between you and Oscar, the comfort of being home, away from the pressures of your world, settled over you. As soon as you were alone, you made your way to the garden.
The garden had always been your escape—a place where you could get lost in the rhythm of tending to the plants. As you knelt in the dirt, your fingers delicately brushing over the leaves of the roses, you found solace in the simplicity of the task. You weren’t sure how long you’d been there, but the sun was starting to dip low in the sky when you finally stood up, wiping your dirty hands on your jeans.
Unbeknownst to you, Oscar had been watching from a distance. He stayed near the old oak tree at the edge of the garden, watching as you moved gracefully through the rows of flowers, completely absorbed in your work. There was something peaceful about the way you lost yourself here—so different from the world of fast cars and expectations.
He leaned back against the tree, his mind racing. He wasn’t sure how he’d fix this—how he could make things right after everything he had done. Watching you, Oscar realized how much he had hurt you, and it wasn’t just the beach incident that weighed on him. It was everything—the emotional distance, the Ellie situation, the lies he had told himself.
But for now, he kept his distance, unsure of how to approach you or if you’d even want him to. You, lost in your world of flowers and dirt, were completely unaware of his gaze.
As the night crept in, you finally left the garden, retreating back inside the house. Oscar stayed behind, his thoughts heavy. For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t thinking about his career, his public image, or what other people wanted from him. He was thinking about you.
The morning sun was bright as you headed to the stables, hoping a horseback ride might clear your head. Despite still being upset with Oscar, you welcomed the chance to be alone in the fresh air.
As you prepared your horse, Oscar approached, looking out of place. He glanced around nervously and gave you a hesitant smile.
“Morning,” he said. “I thought I’d join you, if that’s okay.”
You barely glanced at him, focusing on securing your saddle. “Sure. If you think you’re up for it.”
Oscar tried to act composed, though his eyes darted nervously at the horses. He awkwardly mounted his steed with the help of a stable hand, gripping the reins as if they were a lifeline.
As you led the way onto the trail, your horse trotting confidently, Oscar’s horse lagged behind, its rider stiff and uncertain. You could hear him muttering to himself, trying to calm his nerves.
“So, what’s it like riding horses?” Oscar called out, his voice a bit too loud, trying to mask his fear.
“It’s not as bad as you think,” you replied curtly, keeping your distance both physically and emotionally. You weren’t in the mood for small talk, especially not with Oscar, given the recent tension.
The trail wound through picturesque fields, and as the minutes passed, Oscar’s discomfort was evident. His horse seemed to be enjoying itself a little too much, leading to a few unplanned jolts that made Oscar clutch the reins tightly.
At one point, his horse decided to trot faster, and Oscar’s face turned pale as he tried to control it. “I think it’s going to bolt!” he shouted, trying to sound calm but clearly panicking.
You slowed your horse, turning to watch with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. “Just breathe and let the horse do the work. It’s not going to run off.”
Oscar managed to regain some control, though he looked more like he was bracing for a bumpy ride than enjoying it. “Easy for you to say,” he replied, trying to laugh off his fear. “You make it look so effortless.”
You remained distant, nodding but not engaging further. “Just keep your hands steady and trust the horse.”
By the time you returned to the stables, Oscar dismounted with an audible sigh of relief. His face was flushed, but there was a small smile of accomplishment as he looked at you. “Thanks for letting me tag along. I guess it wasn’t as bad as I thought, but I think I’ll stick to less adventurous activities in the future.”
You gave a noncommittal nod, barely meeting his eyes. “You did alright. Maybe next time, we’ll try something less… unpredictable.”
Finally, the time came to return to London. The flight was quiet, each of you lost in your own thoughts. When you arrived back at your grandfather’s estate, you both faced him, sitting in his study.
“We talked,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “And we’ve decided that it’s best if we just remain friends.”
Your grandfather’s gaze shifted between you and Oscar, disappointment and concern etched on his face. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes,” you affirmed, nodding firmly. “It’s the best decision for both of us.”
Oscar added, “I appreciate everything your grandfather’s done for me, but I agree. We should just be friends.”
Your grandfather sighed, looking at Oscar with a mix of sympathy and understanding. “Very well. I’ll respect your decision.”
As you and Oscar left the study, you found yourself rushing toward your room, letting the tears fall freely down your cheeks.
You weren’t sure why you were crying, maybe it’s because you genuinely felt something with him or you thought you did.
Oscar Piastri was making you go crazy.
Beachy’s notes🐚: Mama is a lil rusty😞
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luigiblood · 2 days
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Something is going on with Retro NSO
I figured this stuff should be part of a post because I think it's an interesting thing to talk about.
As of the last few updates, I started to notice some changes to the NES and SNES emulators specifically, particularly related to emulation of accessories.
NES Four Score
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If you don't know what the NES Four Score is, it's an accessory that allows you to play the NES up to 4 players.
I had actually never really datamined the NES emulator that much but at one point I randomly decided to give it a real shot for the July 2024 update (version 6.9.0).
Then I got actually surprised to notice code for playing using the Four Score, so I eventually went versions back, and found out it was a recent addition of 6.6.0, back in September 2023.
However, it is a little weird, it doesn't seem to be really accurate (to be more exact it only implements one ID for the second controller port, if you know, you know), but it seems functional. In fact in the 6.5.0 update (June 2023), it seemed to have been actually forced on all games, for some reason.
I couldn't notice any code regarding the NES Zapper or any other accessories however, but something that kind of gets me is that I don't notice any code for the Hori 4 Players Adaptor, which is like the Four Score but for the japanese Famicom, and it has some differences on a technical level.
My suspicion is that this was worked on when they were looking into Rare Studio titles, and R.C. Pro Am 2 is definitely a game that uses it. That said, there is one game on NES NSO already that supports the Four Score, but you cannot use it: It's Downtown Nekketsu March Super-Awesome Field Day!, which is kind of a sports games with various sports. (For some reason Nintendo is not using the newly localized ROM and that's a shame.)
SNES Super MultiTap
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This is not new, this was part of the SNES emulator's code the entire time since launch, but considering we just talked about the Four Score for NES, I figured it it would also be a good time to talk a little bit about it, and bring you up to speed.
On SNES, there is the Super MultiTap that can let you play up to 5 players on the same system (it plugs into the second controller port, where you can plug 4 controllers on that, plus the first controller on the first controller port on the system).
There are actually 6 games that can use the Super MultiTap on SNES NSO as of right now, but you cannot play more than 2 players currently, BUT I confirm that it actually does emulate the accessory regardless, just that the application does not let you go past 2 players, but the games do recognize that the device is plugged.
Those games are Super Puyo Puyo 2 (actually available since SNES NSO launch!), Natsume Championship Wrestling, Amazing Hebereke, Kunio-kun no Dodgeball da yo Zen'in Shūgō!, Smash Tennis, and The Peace Keepers.
I figured it would be worth mentioning, because I don't think the addition of Four Score to the NES emulator is just an experiment, it might be possible that SNES NSO might get a major update too regarding the ability to play up to 4 or 5 players for a limited amount of games in the future... especially because of...
SNES Mouse
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Like the Super Multitap, the SNES NSO emulator actually contained code to emulate the SNES Mouse the entire time since launch. However, there has been a new development as of today.
I already talked about this in one of my posts, but I'll just do a roundup of what we datamined in the past: Initially, the SNES emulator checked for specific game identification to enable the SNES Mouse emulation, and looked for 3 specific games.
We don't know what those games are, but considering the limited amount of games, I believe it is reasonable to assume they were limited to games on SNES that only worked with the SNES Mouse and nothing else, in which case, we can assume the following games:
Mario Paint
Mario & Wario
The problem however... those are the only SNES games that released that requires the SNES Mouse to play. You'd wonder what could be the 3rd game that could be best played with a Mouse, but I have a list of what could be it:
Mario Paint (PAL version)
Sound Fantasy
For a few reasons however, I don't believe the PAL version of Mario Paint would be likely, and it leaves the unreleased Nintendo game Sound Fantasy as the other option, we know it was actually completed, and it required the SNES Mouse to play. I won't delve too much on that game, but think of it as a mix of Mario Paint and Electroplankton on DS together, but back in 1994.
In later updates, they removed code that refers to the game identification and relied on game metadata instead. That was done fairly quickly in its life even.
That would have been the end of it if it wasn't for today's SNES NSO update (3.10.0), where a major rework of SNES Mouse emulation was done:
They added the ability to emulate the SNES Mouse on both controller ports, it used to be only on the first controller port.
Internally they can now do input replays of SNES Mouse devices.
There's code for configuring the behavior of the SNES Mouse between either Original, or something else.
This is actually rather interesting, this was added in the emulator between February and August 2024, so this is a legit recent development.
The mention of the SNES Mouse behavior configuration is also interesting, because it means they're looking into ways to support the SNES Mouse in different, possibly more accessible ways than using a USB Mouse.
The fact that they can also emulate the SNES Mouse on both controller ports is also potential evidence that they're looking further into other games than just SNES Mouse only titles, as some games did use the mouse on the second port instead, while leaving the first SNES controller plugged.
To this day, I haven't seen any code for the Super Scope just yet, or the Satellaview for that matter, unfortunately.
Conclusion
Just as a bit of a tl;dr for people who don't like reading:
They secretly added support last year for the NES Four Score to allow 4 player multiplayer, but isn't used yet.
They secretly had SNES Super Multitap support since day one to allow 5 player multiplayer, but isn't used yet.
They secretly had SNES Mouse support since day one, but today (18 September 2024) they released an update that reworked it significantly.
The developers seems to be busy adding or reworking accessories as of the last year. I gotta be honest, I find this a little suspect. We might be going onto something major soon that reworks the NES and SNES applications for multiplayer and more.
I hope so much that would be sooner rather than later.
...also, please, add localized ROMs to NES and SNES NSO. There's no reason not to have them.
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impalakiing · 6 months
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i don't think i've ever posted one of these on this blog before?? so yes, the time has come for me to do it lol. you know the drill, hit the heart to have dean thrown your way. lengths & verses will vary !!
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velvrei · 2 months
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can you please do like enemies to lovers that ends in smut with logan???? the face riding one you posted was SO GOOD. 
a/n at the end
tell me more
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pairing: logan howlett x reader
summary: you and logan HATE each other. you are stuck in the void for a few days, and when you get out, it’s too late to go anywhere so you stay at wade’s place with logan. in the spare bedroom. with one bed.
word count: 8k
warnings: smut, rough sex, enemies to lovers, unprotected sex, degradation, switch!logan, mentions of blood and death, dance fighting, wade & his sexual comments
a/n: beware this is not proofread i’m too lazy
nsfw below the cut!
you disliked logan from the moment you met him. the two of you met through wade, your best friend and partner.
meanwhile, wade had a new best friend and partner in logan howlett. normally, jealousy would arise in such a circumstance, but it only created mini-competitions between the two of you.
the three of you were in the void. you were sitting in a chair, painting your toe-nails as you watched logan and wade fight to get their anger out.
you giggled as logan stabbed wade repeatedly with his claws, just sitting back and watching the show.
as you added your clear coat, it went almost completely silent and you looked up to see logan laying on wade, both of them with multiple wounds and covered in blood.
“you guys done yet?”
both boys groaned, making you grin as you fanned your newly painted toes and returned the nail polish to your bag.
a few minutes later, both guys were awake and walking towards you. you three needed a somewhere to stay, and you knew exactly where.
"i know where we can stay. this isn't my first time in the void, and there's a house where some hero's hide from cassandra. we can go there." wade listens to your words while logan just scoffs and rolls his eyes.
"and why are we listening to you?" logan's sassy remark made you roll your eyes.
"because i've been in the void before you dumb fuck. don't question me."
"what did you just call me?" logan growled, stepping toward you as you remained unbothered in your lawn chair.
"you heard me." your tone was sharp and sassy.
wade rolled his eyes before stepping in front of logan, stopping from getting any closer to you.
"guys. knock it off. we're gonna follow her, because she's been here before. got it, dog boy?" wade's nickname made you snicker, another nickname added to your dictionary.
“yeah dog boy.” you add on, earning a glare from wade.
“shut the fuck up, woman.” logan spat, his tone was bitter, and his eyes searched you up and down.
“you wish i would.” you spat right back, scoffing as you looking at your nails on your hand, acting completely unbothered by logan’s insults.
wade grabbed you out of the chair, and grabbed logan’s arm, practically dragging you both before shoving you forward.
before the three of you could even take another step, you saw a hidden figure standing on higher ground. he wore a hood over his head, and as he spoke, and revealed himself, it was johnny storm.
“there’s no time. they’re already almost here.” he points to the distance, physically pointing out the fact that cassandra’s army were already on their way to get you.
you swore under your breath as johnny jumped down, joining the three of you, it was now four against like, 100, and you knew you had no other way out of this but to face cassandra head on.
they all approached you fast, and quickly surrounded you. a man, with long hair and brown teeth, began to speak.
“ooo, she’s gonna love what i have for her.”
wade scoffed. “who is she, exactly?”
you smacked his shoulder earning a pathetic wince, causing logan to roll his eyes by the two of you.
the man ignored wade’s question, and before they even had a chance to fight, each of you were sucked by a magnet, and knocked unconscious.
when you woke up, you tried to move your body but it was restrained, looking up and seeing that you were tightly tied against logan. great.
you were in a moving ball, practically like a wired hamster house. your body was tightly maneuvered against his, breasts pressing against his chest, sighing in defeat as logan watched you struggle. “there’s no getting out of this.” his dark, husky voice made you look up, hating the fact that you couldn’t look anywhere but his eyes.
“i know where we’re going. i’ve been here before.”
johnny raised an eyebrow at that as he was tied up next to you, against wade. “you have? no one has ever escaped cassandra alive?”
you sighed. “well i have.”
logan rolled his eyes, hating that the attention was on you. “well aren’t you just the greatest. you escaped a bald bitch, boo fucking who.”
logan’s comment caused your knee to come up in between his legs and hit him in the dick, watching his face contort into pain, making you giggle.
after what felt like the longest ride ever, you arrived to cassandra’s lair, watching as she stepped out and observed the small group.
she untied everyone eventually, examining each person. when she walked up to you, she put her hands behind her back, giving you a smile.
“miss princess. lovely seeing you here again. you’ve escaped me once and it will take a lot for that to happen again.” her words made you swallow, a little frightened but not letting it show, so you held your ground against her.
“you don’t have to worry cass, it’ll happen again. i’m sure of it.” her eyes brighten at the nickname, giggling as she walked over to johnny storm.
it didn’t take long for her to release you as alioth slowly lowers from the sky, hungry for his next meal.
you quickly run over to a weird jet pack thing, watching as both boys follow you, johnny staying behind.
the three of you flew away on the magical item, you shouted quickly, “take us west! that’s where the house is!” she shouts to wade who is somehow controlling the thing from the bottom.
when you arrived at the house, you saw the others, as in the former x-men, which were all very familiar with you.
they greeted you, and you introduced them to the boys.
“this my friend wade! and this… is logan.” you say your excitement wandering off as you say logan’s name, wanting to purposely annoy him.
logan rolled his eyes and introduced himself to everybody sense you didn’t do it for him. the others noticed the frustrating tension between you and logan, most saw it as hatred, but gambit saw right through the both of you.
as everyone started to mingle, gambit approached you and introduced himself, his speed of speaking somehow easy for your brain to comprehend.
“you know, you and that logan guy would be one hot couple.” you almost choked on your spit, turning to him with your eyes wide.
“me… and logan…? like as in dog boy logan? like as in i fight people with claws like a furry, logan?” your comment made gambit chuckle, he nodded his head.
“yes, furry logan. it always startz as enemies, i tink you and him would really get along if you actully chose to.”
you rolled your eyes, “i’m gonna have to disagree with you on that one, mr gambit. i hate that man with a passion.”
he just shrugged his shoulders, looking around the room before looking over at you. “whatever you say, miss y/n. i may just see somefin you don’t.”
about an hour later, the group was all gathered around the table, trying to figure out a plan to capture and kill cassandra.
“okay. cassandra has her big army of dick-riders, so we have to find someway to distract/kill them without the others getting suspicious.” wade says, obviously opening the conversation for ideas.
“maybe we just go head first and attack them all?” electra suggests, which is a good idea, but someone would end up getting killed.
wade looks like he has a light bulb moment, and he turns to you. “remember that one time when we fought off those guys behind the bar in new york, and you did your little dance fighting thing, slowly killing them without the others knowing because you seduced them first,” wade said, sparking memory in your head. everyone else looked confused, while logan looked completely against the idea already.
“yes, how could i forget? that night started my tradition of dance fighting.”
wade smirks, “what if we use that in this? you seduce and fight the guards while we sneak in. i went by earlier and saw the army only comes out when it’s a group, so if it’s just you, seducing the guards, they won’t question a thing.”
wade’s idea makes your face lighten up, loving the idea of being the center of attention. “and how do we know this will work?” logan’s voice is obviously unamused.
“it’s never failed.” you spoke, shooting him a smirk before turning back to wade.
“yeah. let’s do it. i’ll walk up, distract the guard while you guys go through the back and sneak in, just give me a signal when you finally kill that bald bitch, because sway my hips for so long.”
your comment causes the other to laugh, except for logan, as usual. he just huffs, already not liking the idea.
you’re outside the house, everyone getting into the car, no seats for you and logan. “can you guys just sit in the trunk?”
you shoot him a look, knowing it won’t end well.
“out of all two people to out in the trunk, you should be smart enough to know him and i are the worst ones possible.”
logan scowled in agreement, if scowling in agreement was even possible.
wade just shrugged, telling you guys to suck it up and just get in the back, because we were only driving a few minutes.
you rolled your eyes, opening the back and getting in.
logan watched you with narrowed eyes, rolling his eyes before plopping in the trunk. he closed it behind him, and once it was closed, he scooted as far away as possible from you.
you scoffed and roll your eyes, “i don’t bite, ya know.” your words made him chuckle.
“you seem like you would with all those snarky comments you make.” his words make your mouth fall open, slightly offended.
“are you calling me a fucking ankle-biter?”
“yes.”
logan’s quick yes added to your loss for words, unable to form a sentence as you just sat there with your mouth open.
logan chuckled, but realized he was chuckling and stopped himself, quickly looking out the back window, trying to hide the fact he almost got comfortable around you.
when you guys finally arrived, wade got out and hit the button on the trunk.
logan got out abnormally fast, making wade laugh. you got out, grabbing your suit.
when you got you, wade closed the back and got back in the car, driving away and leaving you there.
you ran to the nearest room, changed into your suit, then stared walking toward cassandra's lair.
wade was parking on the side, his car hidden as he watched you slowly walk up to the group, boombox in hand.
wade pressed play on his phone, the song 'murder on the dancefloor' starting to blast on the boombox, drawing attention to you as you slowly walked up to the guards.
you set the boombox down onto the ground, walking up to the first guard, smiling at him as you placed both your hands on his shoulders, swaying your hips.
you slowly swayed down his body, hands roaming all over him. he was clearly into it, and that's what made it even better for you.
you slowly brought him to the side, pretending to kiss him, knocking him unconscious.
you slowly knocked down each guard with your moves and hands, seducing them then knocking them out.
you left them all in a pile, on top of each other, on the side of cassandra's lair.
when you were done, you walked over to the car, knocking on the window, as wade rolls it down.
"haven't seen you in your suit doing your thing for a few years! that was perfect!" wade exclaimed, getting out of the car.
you smiled, noticing how quite logan was from the trunk.
"you have about 30 minutes to get your asses in there before all the guards wake up." is all you say, earning a nod from wade and the rest of the group.
"yes ma'am." wade says, only half joking.
you nod as everyone gets out of the car, you push the button in the back so logan is able to do that.
logan huffs as he finally gets out. "i didn't need your help."
you could tell something was up. something different.
you roll your eyes, “oh, my bad mr. tough guy.” logan let out a scowl, and you watch his body shivered. you were unsure whether it was from anger or something else.
“you just love to push my buttons, don’t you.” his raspy, low voice caused you to turn your head, noticing the fact that he was actually pissed off by you. it made you want to annoy him more. you’d been grating on his nerves for this whole mission, and it barely even started.
“yes. that’s my job, dog boy, keep you on your toes.”
as much as you may despise logan, you have to grant it to him, he knows what he's doing, and he's admirable with it. this time, his voice is tired, not annoyed.
which makes you hold back a giggle. you’re tiring him. that’s something you find cute. “whatever woman, just shut up.”
and you do. you figure you can always annoy him more later, but right now there’s grater matters to deal with.
you hop back into the car, going into the front and making yourself comfortable as the others go to fight. your part was done and now you were more than happy to take the time you could to relax.
later that day, the mission was over with, and it didn't go as planned.
"i did all that ass shaking for nothing?" your words cause the group to have a collective laugh, except for logan, per usual.
"you'll live." his comment sends a shot through your heart, which you show, pretending to faint and holding your heart with your right hand.
"no.. i won't," you say, in stuttered breaths. wade just rolled his eyes at how dramatic you were, but the others seemed to love your jokes.
"will you quit that, you dramatic dingo?" wade's words snd nickname cause you to stop, bursting out into laughter with the rest of the team. except again for the usual exception, logan.
after everyone calms down it's settled that you, wade and logan were going to go through the portal, while the others stayed behind and you got them out later.
you arrived once again at cassandra's lair. yesterday you had captured her and she offered to let you guys to the real world, however, with a price. that woman never gave out things for free. there was some kind of catch and you knew that, but chose to ignore it for the time being, more ready to go back home to your regular universe.
it was just before dark, and as you walked into the lair, cassandra was sat in her chair, she turned to face you as you walked up the ramp. "hello boys, and y/n. welcome back. are you finally set for our trade?"
the three of you nodded, wade stepped forward. "yes we're ready miss death giver. please send us home." his words were so unserious, yet spoken in a serious tone and it almost made it seem serious. even logan almost chuckled.
cassandra opened the portal, watching carefully as the three of you walked through. you made it through, feeling as if you were falling to your death.
as you were falling from the sky, you turned to see logan, next to you, also falling, questionably close to you. he still managed to have his signature grumpiness as he was practically falling to his death, and he rolled his eyes and held a hand out to you, which caused your eyebrow to raise.
was he being... thoughtful toward you? that's a fucking first.
you accepted his hand, the two of you falling together onto a tree, groaning as the pain was still present. you heard some kind of click in the sky and slowly watched wade fall, landing on a poison ivy garden. you chuckled, then turned to logan, seeing his eyes still shut, his breath huffing and puffing. you then looked down, noticing that your hands were still holding each other.
you started to panic and let go, watching his eyes open slowly and his breathing start to slow down. "what, didn't want to hold my hand?" his snarky comment caused you to roll your eyes.
"no. you'll live." you say, using his comment from earlier.
he bares his teeth as a way of holding back another mean comment, watching as you slowly got up, starting to make your way over to wade, leaving his limp body there, by himself.
finally, the three of you make it back to wade's home. it was practically midnight and all the three of you were extremely drained after the day you had.
"you guys can stay here for the night with me, i have a spare bedroom and a couch." wade's words made you perk up, but logan beat you to it before you could say anything.
"you can take the couch. you're small enough to fit on it." you clench your jaw at logan's comment, sighing as wade shakes his head.
“not in my house, logan. as much as i love you mr. mutt, miss twerkalator over here gets the bed. unless you two want to share it."
logan looks at you, eyeing you up and down before shaking his head. "i'll take the couch."
you two walk into the room, and logan's eyes widen at the king sized bed.
he turns to you, his face obviously fighting back a decision. "we can share it. if that's okay with you. i propose a pillow wall."
you shook your head and giggled. "fine logan. only if there's a pillow wall. i want the right side though."
with a roll of his eyes, he sets his stuff down on the left side, you go out to say goodnight to wade, who must've changed into sweatpants and a hoodie cause he's no longer in his suit.
when you walk out, he's is wiggling his eyebrows at you. "you two have fun sharing that bed, okay? if you decide to fuck, let me know so i can come watch."
his words make you physically cringe, watching as his face is purely serious. this man was not joking. you roll your eyes, "there will be no fucking on your spare bed, wade. especially not with him." your cold words make wade shake his head.
"whatever you say, princess. if i hear moaning i'll assume it's the neighbors."
his final comment makes you flip him off as you walk back into the room, he blows you a kiss before you shut the door behind you.
logan is in the bathroom, then he walks out. "there's a shower in here. just letting you know. i'm gonna take one first, you can go after me if you need to." his tone seems calmer, but you assumed it was only because of his tiredness.
you nodded, just accepting the fact he was showering first and sitting yourself on the floor, grabbing your phone.
you didn't want to get the bed dirty, especially with your suit. so you just picked out your clothes, and waited for logan to be finished with his shower.
another quite twenty minutes and the bathroom door swung open.
he walks out, a plain white towel hanging low around his hips, his chest hair carrying small water droplets, a few dropping to the floor as he walked. his body is sculpted and wonderfully chiseled. his chest was defined, along with his abs, his veins evident, and his abs defined. there was a little trail of hair along his v-line, leading to below the towel. his beard had a few drops of water still left in it, assuming it was damp.
you swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that his body was perfect, setting your clothes onto the bed and rushing yourself into the shower.
you tried to push back the possible thoughts of him looking delicious, and decided to just brush them off in your shower. but as you stepped in, it got worse.
the warm water hit your cold skin, almost like a reverse burn, but a good burn. it felt nice on your timid skin, you used this as a way to try and ignore the feeling you just had when you saw logan shirtless.
as much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny it. he was fucking hot. and his body was even hotter.
you physically shook off the thoughts as you noticed a face wash in the shower. wade and his skincare. you grabbed it and used it, aggressively washing your face from all the dirty thoughts you just had and then washing your body, your hair, adding conditioner, then stepping out of the shower.
you dry of your body, deciding to do the same thing he did. you walked out, your breasts pushed up on the towel as you held it, grabbing your clothes off the bed, then walking back into the bathroom to change.
as you shut the door, you caught a glimpse of logan staring at your body and when he quickly looked away, you knew you had got him.
you got yourself changed, throwing your hair into one of wade’s bright pink towels and going to sit on the bed. you were sat awkwardly on one side, while logan was sat awkwardly on the other.
you grabbed your phone, trying to drown out the awkward silence through your instagram feed, but it wasn’t cutting it.
logan wasn’t even trying to deny the awkward silence, he just stood there, letting his thoughts overload his brain.
he huffed, before grabbing the towel by his bed, placing it onto his pillow and setting his head down. “i’m gonna go to sleep. don’t wake me up.”
his harsh words make you want to laugh, remembering the scared look he had on his face when you caught him staring form just minutes ago, but you decided to let him rest and leave him be for the night.
he quickly fell asleep, beginning to snore, which made you laugh, but you quickly got tired yourself and set the phone down, plugging it in and falling asleep yourself.
you slept for a few hours, before you woke up, your mouth incredibly dry and in need of some water.
you slowly got up, trying not to knock over the pillow wall as you did so, you slowly opened and shut the door behind you, trying to refrain from any noise. you walked out to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from wade’s cupboard and filling it up with his fancy filtered water from the fridge. you took a sip, the cold liquid instantly wetting your throat, easing your cotton mouth.
you started to look at the magnets on wade’s fridge, smiling as you saw multiple pictures, even one of you and him. it was a selfie he stopped to take in the middle of a mission. he was a fucking goofball.
you turned and jumped, seeing logan behind you. he was grabbing a glass for himself. “did i scare you?” he just chuckled at you and got some of the tap water, chugging it. he obviously knew the answer to that and was just asking to piss you off even more.
you rolled your eyes, ignoring his question and getting more to the water from the filter. he rolled his eyes. “filtered water? seriously? now i see why you and wade get along so well. you both are incredibly boujee.” his use of the word boujee practically makes you spit out your water into the sink.
“i never expected that word to be in your dictionary.” you said, honestly, watching as he chuckled, filling up his water and sipping it this time.
“there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” his voice was low and raspy, lower than usual. it was his sleepy voice, you were trying not to let it get it you. didn’t matter what he said. it was the voice that was the problem.
“yeah? like that you snore in your sleep? just found that out a few hours ago.”
logan scoffed, clenching then unclenching his jaw, holding back a roll of his eyes. “yes, i snore. i didn’t even know until my ex-wife told me.”
the mention of his ex-wife made the room go silent, with the exception of the faucet dropping a few times.
his comment just reminded you of how much older he was than you. you decided to not let it be awkward by keeping the conversation going.
“ex-wife huh? how many of those have you had?” your snark comment making his eyes actually roll this time.
he could hear the teasing nature in your voice and didn’t take it the wrong way, but was still acting annoyed, because he always tried to be with you.
“i’m not answering that question.” his response made you giggle. you just smiled to him, deciding to tease him a bit.
“you gonna make me guess?”
with a roll of his eyes he set his glass into the sink, and you didn’t realize his body was slowly getting closer to yours.
“don’t guess. cause i won’t tell you.”
you hid back a smile, looking up at him. “you know, i caught you staring earlier.” your blunt comment made all his attention go on you, eyes searching you up and down for any sign of discomfort at the thought of him staring at your body.
“i was not staring.” his voice was still low and husky, making your stomach get butterflies. you watched to stop them but you couldn’t help it. logan was towering over you and all you could do was look up at him.
he body moved closer to you as you said your next comment. “you definitely were. i saw it with my own two eyes.”
your comment must’ve struck a nerve in him, because his body was now fully pressed up against you, one hand on your hip while the other rested on the fridge above your head. you were unsure of what to do, he practically had you pinned to the fridge.
“i said, i wasn’t staring, doll. what part of that don’t you get?” he spoke slower this time, eyes daggering into yours, making your heart flutter.
“okay. you weren’t staring.” your words make him smile a bit.
“that’s right.” his voice was taunting almost, and it made you shiver. he stared down at you, and as he separated himself from you, you noticed, a bulge in his pants. you giggled to yourself as he walked back into the room. leaving you there, with your many ideas in your head of how the rest of the night could go.
you take a deep breath, composing yourself before walking back into the room. you laid down on your side of the pillow wall, staring at the ceiling. little did you know he was doing the same.
you took a deep breath before you said your next sentence. “you know, it’s okay to get a boner. it’s normal.”
your comforting yet embarrassing words caused his cheeks to flush. your words made him realize you noticed his bulge, and he huffed before throwing each of the four pillows in the pillow wall onto the floor.
“what did you just say?”
you tried to hide back your amused giggle. “you heard me and you know it.”
your eyes glared into his, watching his face as his jaw clenched. he knew he’d been caught.
“i said, it’s okay to have a boner. i know you’re hard because of our interaction. and because of seeing me in nothing but a towel. you don’t have to hide your attraction for me, logan. i’m not stupid. i know it’s there.”
your words cause a battle within him internally. there’s no denying that your words sent a shiver down his body. frankly, he wouldn't be surprised if a wet patch appeared in his pants.
he tries to think of something snarky to respond with, wanting to ignore the aroused feeling he had, not wanting you to have the slightest hint about how he was feeling.
you decided to speak again before he could, "in fact, i'm sure it's getting worse the more i speak-" you don't have time to finish your surly sentence before he's right there, his hot breath fanning your face from above, his forearms on either side of your head, trapping you in.
"you know what? yeah. you're the reason why i'm hard. doing your fucking dance fighting. i had to hide how hard i was. watching you kill those guys so effortlessly, and looking sexy while you did it. and, god you walking around here in nothing but a towel, last night where you worse the littlest shorts that barely even cover your ass. that's what made me hard. god, and i've been trying to hide it for so long but it just seems like i'm affecting you too."
he growls, his face falling to your neck, the intersection of your shoulder, his lips just brushing the flesh before inhaling deeply; almost animalistic.
you smile, looking up at him, getting another idea. you bat your eyelashes and take his hand, knocking him to his side as he's forced to lay next to you. “lo, you do affect me, so bad," you take his hand and lead it down to your core, pressing his hand to your clothed pussy. "right here. you feel that? feel how wet i am? it's all cause of you."
you watch as his mouth falls open and his pants tighten, seeing his dick twitch in his sweatpants. he's at a loss for words. he was expecting you to submit to him, but the way you didn't sent shivers down his spine.
"yeah? i did that?" his mouth now forms to a smirk, looking over at you, down to your lips and up to your eyes.
"yes you did. and i've been aching, waiting for you to come help me out." you watch as his head falls back, a puff of air falling from his mouth.
"fuck, stop talking." his command only eggs you on. you being the little menace you are, continue with your teasing.
"need you so bad logan. so bad right here. she's been aching. calling for you. god, she's so tight and needs something to stretch her out, think you can do that? i bet you’re so big, could stretch her out real good.”
you watch as his body shakes, and you notice a wet patch on his sweatpants, realizing the fact that he just came, just from the words you were saying and the slight touch of your clothed pussy.
"you must've been waiting for this huh? already came in your pants. naughty boy."
logan doesn't let you get another word, because his lips press to yours. after so much waiting, the tension was finally being released through a kiss.
the two of you continue your messy kiss, and it doesn't take long for his hands to stray, his palms skimming down your hot flesh, and leaving goose bumps in his wake.
“fucking hell, woman,” he whines, getting on top of you again, kissing your lips. "you're gonna look so much better when I mark you up, every inch of you. you already look like you’re mine."
his words made you moan, tugging at your shirt, signaling for you to take it off, which you do, you throw it over your head and across the room. leaving you in nothing but your soaked panties.
“god, so fucking pretty. you know how hard it was for me not to do this to you earlier on? you know how long i’ve been fucking waiting?” his harsh words make your body tremble. he slowly kissed your breasts.
his tongue swirled across your left nipple, sucking on it, eyes up on you, watching your face, watching it contort into pleasure because of him.
he kisses and gives love to the other breast, sucking on it as his hands slowly roam your body, overstimulating you with his touch.
he slowly descends while pulling at the waist of your panties. it appears like that's when he realizes it, pulling away from you, breathing heavily, his beard tingling your hip bones.
his desperate eyes look up at you, searching your face for any regret to which he found none.
he takes off your panties, shoving them in his pocket. "i'm gonna keep these."
his words make you moan again. you look down and he has a devilish grin on his face, both his arms wrapping around your legs, nibbling on your thighs before starting to devour as if he's starving and you're his last meal.
his tongue immediately fucks into your hole, eyes never leaving your face as he works his magic. his nose rubs against your clit, moaning the more he gets into it.
he was being so messy, and it was making you wetter, which then continued to make the situation even messier.
his facial hair caresses your swelling pearl as he eats you whole, without any hesitation—to him, you are a complete feast.
the most exquisite sight you have ever seen is his tongue in your pussy as he gives you sloppy kisses.
you can only watch, gripping his hair and running your fingers through his dark locks, yanking for some semblance of stability, something to keep you bound to this world because the pleasure you feel is unfathomable.
"fuck, logan that feels amazing?" your words only edge him on, watching as his silly smirk turns to a devilish grin.
"does it baby? tell me more." his voice is still low and husky, and he grips your thighs tighter, noticing your body shaking.
but you're so close, perched precariously on the brink of something amazing, something profound, something cosmic. you are crying as he gets closer and closer to you, enjoying every taste of his tongue in your cave and every nuzzle of his nose to your extremely sensitive spot.
"i'm so close." is all you are able to say, feeling a bit embarrassed at the fact the man you once despised was now between your legs, making you yell for him.
"yeah? come on doll, i'll take you there." his words mixed with his stimulations on your clit and fucking of your hole finally bring you to the edge.
your body trembles and shakes as he makes you cum for the first time of the night, you drench his face in your juices, loving how intimate he was with his way pleasuring you.
"good fucking girl." his words combined with his look turns you back on instantly, sending shivers down to your core as you finally come down from your high.
he comes up, you place both hands on either sides of his face, his soaked beard tickling your fingers. "you're gonna ruin me, aren't you?"
his smile only grows, as he begins to lower his sweatpants, "i'm gonna make it so no other man is able to top what i do to you tonight."
his words make you moan, he presses a kiss to your forehead before letting his dick free, you watched as the precum dripped onto your stomach, trying to ignore how hot it was. god, even his dick was hairy. but today was the day you finally decided to admit that you loved every fucking hair on his body.
he slowly aligned with your aching pussy, which is practically waiting just to suck him in. he slowly pushes in, earning a moan to fall from his soaked lips.
you hiss, but as he stretches you, the minor pain only makes you want to absorb him completely more. your ass reaches his thighs, causing you to realize that he's now balls deep in you.
he mutters, "fucking hell," letting out the most agonizing sigh yet.
his movements begin slowly as you becomes accustomed to his immense girth filling you up to the brim.
even the smallest movement causes your walls to become tense around the ridges of his dick, grinding against you so strongly. with each rock, his breathing gets deeper, his eager pants and short pleas filling the air as he picks up tempo.
he moves faster, eyes gazing into yours, he pulls his hand up and places it on your stomach, pressing down knowing it would increase the pleasure for you.
“tell me baby, talk to me. how does it feel?” he already knew the answer to that, but he absolutely loved the thought of you beneath him, trembling under of his manipulation.
“so fucking good.” your harsh words make his dick twitch.
“yeah? tell me more, hon.” your head falls back, hair sprawling onto the pillows as your body shook, feeling overstimulated by his words and thrusts, that were picking up speed, and the fact that you had already came once, and fast. you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.
he looks down at you, letting his hand trail from your stomach to your mouth. “open.”
you watch carefully, eyes never leaving his as his fingers slowly slide into your mouth, moaning as he remains eye contact and watches you suck on them. seeing that makes him imagine how good your tight little mouth would feel around his dick.
“god, you’re gorgeous.” he says, finally admitting it.
all you can do it smile, realizing this is the first time he’s ever genuinely complimented you, and you decided to take it in, and tease him with it. per usual.
“think that’s the first time you’ve ever complimented me. you finally letting yourself see how fucking hot i am?”
your words apparently get to him because he winces. not a sad wince, a pathetic ‘i need to cum’ type wince.
“stop that.” his voice is harsh, a bit whiny, as he continues to thrust into you, both hand now on your hips as he hovers above you, his tip hitting your cervix, stretching you out just for him.
"stop what, logan? you don't like hearing about how we could've fucked so much earlier, if you just quit the fucking act and admitted how horny i made you?" your dirty talk was working on him and you were loving it.
the man was whimpering, his hips starting to stutter, as he pounded into you, wanting to make you cum before he did.
"if you keep talking like that i'm gonna cum, y/n." you smiled up at him, knowing you were close as well.
your tired eyes batted up at him, a small smile forming on your face.
"then cum. do it. fucking cum, i'll cum with you, yeah? filling me up so good, you feel her clenching? that's all from you baby, you got me this hot and bothered, now make me fucking cum." your words flipped a switch in him.
he started pounding into you, balls slapping repeatedly against your ass as he moved, keeping his same pace but now fucking you harder.
he moaned into your ear, "yeah? i'll make you fucking cum. gonna make you cum so hard the only thing you'll remember is my fucking name," his harsh words and the fact he could go from submissive to dominant so fast made you go over the edge for the final time that night.
you finally came, the continuous pressure in your bundle of nerves, the hot white wave of pleasure sends you hurtling through the sky and to heaven in an instant, leaving you in a state of unrestrained bliss that you cannot predict.
your body is electrified from head to toe. somewhere in the mix of your earth-shattering orgasm logan came as well, the sight of you in such state making him reach his peak, filling your walls with his hot sticky cum.
you both sat there for a second, catching your breath, and suddenly you looked down to see logan’s hot cum gushing out of you and onto the bedsheets, the sight becoming to hot to handle, as you both moaned in unison.
he got up and went to the bathroom, getting a rag from the cupboard and drowning it in hot sink water, ringing it out before walking over to you and cleaning you up.
his tongue licked up some of the mixed cum, and you watched with big eyes, feeling even more aroused at the sight.
he used the rag to get the rest and wipe off his beard from your juices.
he threw the rag into the hamper, climbing into bed next to you again, this time a lot closer and with no pillow wall.
instead, you rested in his arms, smiling up at him, as the two of you finally fell asleep.
the next morning, you and logan lay for a bit before you throw on one of his shirts and some of your shorts and walk out to the kitchen, seeing wade sitting at this dining table with his fake glasses on, drinking a cup of coffee in his ‘love yourself’ mug.
he eyes the both of you as you walk out, taking note of the outfit changes.
he smiled. “morning sunshine’s. how’d the night go? did you guys hear my neighbors downstairs at all? sounded like they were getting it on, the guy was moaning and groaning, must’ve been havin’ a grand ole’ time,” wade says, doing the thrust motion with his arms up causing logan’s face to turn a bit pink, making you laugh loudly.
he came up to you, hands around your waist and lips near your ear.
“try to walk in a straight line, sweetheart, then we’ll see who’s laughing.”
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a/n: SURPRISEEEE hiii guys! this is what i have been working on all day! i wanted to spoil you with more then just a drabble while i had motivation. MWAH I HOPE U ENJOYED!
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tteokdoroki · 11 months
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ೀ⋆OCT 16TH CLUELESS ━━ megumi fushiguro + step-cest !
୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. megumi fushiguro + step-cest. are you totally buggin’ or is your college-goer, goody two shoes step-brother kinda into messing around with you? (7.6K)
୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, enemies to lovers (?), step-cest, photos, videos, fingering, choking, praise kink, panty sniffing, body worship, riding stuffed animals, daddy kink, soft sex, unprotected sex, bimbo-ish + fem!reader, step-brother!megumi fushiguro.
୨୧ — director’s note. lets gooo another kinktober installment! i actually haven't written for megumi in ages and this is kinda long so...i hope this is okay? sorry this is late btw, please enjoy! <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧
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let’s get one thing straight. 
not all daddy’s girls are dumb.
on the contrary, you’re actually highly intelligent and thoroughly educated — graduating at the top of every single one of your classes in high school, despite negotiating a fair portion of your grades with your teachers. after school, however, you couldn’t quite figure out what you wanted to do and everyone else you knew spent their time growing up around you. daddy wanted you to go to college, get your degree so you could find your footing in the world…he would even pay for it too.
but like every other twenty-something year old girl your age, you were completely and utterly clueless about the direction you wanted to take.
perhaps that was the reason as to why your step-brother, megumi, annoyed you so much. indoctrinated into your family unit of two (yourself and your father, of course) — megumi had joined you to play happily-family when his mother married your father. their fast-paced union didn’t last long, however, for your parents were quickly divorced by the new year…and apparently, you can only divorce people. not children. meaning that your older step sibling had decided he would much rather stick around for the long haul.
it could even be said that megumi fushiguro was an even bigger daddy’s boy (or kiss ass) than you were a daddy’s girl. he went to college on daddy’s money, ate on daddy’s money and got jobs using daddy’s money and power. now, he’s some big time hot shot at an environmental law firm and it irks you just how much your father is pushing for you to be just like megumi. in everybody’s eyes, your step brother was the picture perfect child, an example to follow, a fine gem.
and since your father liked that so much; likes how responsible and diligent megumi is — it would explain why your older step-brother could get away with sneaking up on you in your own house (favourite child privileges). “what are you all dressed up for?” the husky lilt to his deep voice sends shockwaves through your system and a shiver down your spine, making you jump away from the fridge you’re rummaging through.
“a party.” you say frigidly. the dark haired male makes a face and you roll your eyes at him in a disapproving manner. as if megumi was in any position to judge you for your plans and late night endeavours. he was a boring old college student clinging to his younger step sister whilst you were doing society a favour and helping your friend get together with the guy she liked. 
it’s what you do! helping the less fortunate instead of studying for some boring piece of paper and graduate degree. 
you were such a good person. 
turning away from the cool air and dull hum of the fridge freezer, you tuck a few juices to be used as mixers for the party into your bag — ignoring the heaviness of your step brother’s admiral blue gaze as it slips over the curve of your waist, the expanse of your thighs and the bounce of your chest peeking out from your skimpy little get up. it’s funny, how you’ve never liked the way boys have looked at you in the past — but something about the way he drinks you in as if you’re the last glass of water on the plant makes your legs shaky and your breath turn short and…
“can i come?” 
with his lips pressed into a thin line and his emotions hidden behind the perfect mask of his perfect face — megumi slams the fridge door shut, to make you squeak again. his brows raising expectantly while he waits for your answer. “a-as if fushiguro.” you huff in annoyance, jabbing the older step-sibling in his shoulder as he towers over you. “aren’t you too old for house parties? i wouldn’t want you to cramp my style.” 
“i’m not that much older than you.” he laughs, it’s melodious sound sending a warmth through your body.
rolling your eyes, you snap back. “you’re old enough.” 
you make yourself small as you pass by him, attempting to escape his suffocating presence. he makes you feel weird, and you don’t exactly hate it — sure megumi is annoying, snarky and a little mean but he’s… attractive, like next level attractive. he’s got those dreamy sea-storm eyes that make you feel as though you’ll die and go to heaven, a sexy smirk that gets you hot and bothered even if it’s not directed at you. all of your friends have had crushes on your step brother at some point, ones that cause jealousy to brim just under the surface of your skin, pricking you like a thousand tiny needles. your jealousy totally doesn’t have anything to do with you trying to hook your friend up tonight by the way (lying to yourself makes you feel better).
however, feeling this way about megumi is wrong, nowhere near normal. anybody could have told you that — it’s just that your family relationships make things complicated and you don’t want to make this weird between you both. you’d never admit it, but you do enjoy the back and forth sibling-like banter the two of you have. would ruining that be worth it? even if your step-brother was like…everything you’d ever wanted in a guy; not like those snot-nosed, unhygienic, monkey-brained losers you used to go to school with. 
instead, megumi was smart, established and with his future practically set in stone. maybe that’s why you picked on him, why you acted like a spoiled brat whenever he was around, why you pretended to despise his every existence and wish he’d never become a part of your family. because megumi  constantly reminds you of your failures or what your future could be if you put your mind to it and actually tried. 
“maybe, college guys like me wouldn’t seem like such losers if you actually gave furthering your education a shot,” your step brother cuts through your thoughts, stalking behind you with his hands in his pockets as you leave the kitchen and head towards the foyer — getting ready to head out for the party. “just do what your daddy wants, angel. go to college, get your degree so he can get off my back and you can be smart like me. yeah?” 
“and why would i listen to you?” there’s nothing you can do to shake him — your older step brother tailing you as if he’s your own personal guardian. he stops walking when you stop walking, bumping into your back, while a shocked whimper lays flat on the seam on your lips. 
megumi passes you a jacket (which you slide on by yourself) whilst he chuckles again, the sound rumbling in his chest and through your body pressed hotly against his. “‘cause i’m your big brother.” his voice is almost scolding, playfully so, holding a darker tone that you almost recognise as lust whole his larger-than yours hands force their way down to the fat at your waist. “now c’mere, let me fix your outfit. can’t have you goin’ out like this…” megumi squeezes your hips, using his grip on them to spin you around so that you can face him. 
you expect him to tell you to cover up more — that your pretty white dress is too short and that you’re too promiscuous. what you don’t  expect is for the dark haired male to sink to his knees before you, soft and attentive fingers sliding up your inner leg to fix your thigh-highs as that have slipped down. you barely manage to choke back a needy moan. 
he doesn’t let up on the eye contact either; only serving to fog up your pretty little head. “s-step brother,” you manage to remind him gently, finding your voice. 
fushiguro rolls his eyes, poking his tongue into his cheek. “that was your take away, pretty girl?” he doesn’t stop touching you, going as far to peek his head up your skirt — pretending to finish fixing your socks despite the subtle press of his nose against your panties and pinging them against your backside once done fondling you. “there we go, better.” 
he even goes as far to pat your bum in accomplishment too. 
you feel pathetic for letting your step brother touch you in such a taboo way, failing to push megumi off. but he’s never been so bold and you’ve never wanted him more — craving megumi through an insatiable burning in your chest. there’s always been a sexual tension brewing between you both, fuelled by your banter, your rage and mischievousness but how could you act on it? 
megumi was practically family. your family. it would be weird. you couldn’t be anything more without crossing the line of what’s deemed acceptable and what isn’t for step siblings. you have to remember who he is to you, an older brother, a menace to your friends who crush on him and someone who had called you selfish once upon a time. 
finally snapping back to reality, you force yourself away from the tendrils of your step-brother’s grip — swiping your purse from the entryway table and storming towards the door. “you’re buggin’ gumi!” you squeak from the porch. “stop being weird a-and stay out of my room!”  
the door slams harshly as you vacate the property in favour of the party, practically running down the steps with a rapid shake of your head. doing anything you can to rid yourself of all thoughts concerning the enigma that is your older step brother.
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the party doesn’t help, and instead ends up a total disaster.
your plan to set your friends up completely falls apart when your ex-best guy friend decides to make a move on you on the way home and drops you off in the middle of nowhere after rejecting him. to top it off, some asshole robs you for your fendi purse at a gas station and makes you lie down on the ground in your matching designer dress! 
the whole ordeal nearly reduces you to tears and forces you to call the one person you’d been trying to forget about all night. megumi. 
he picks you up without a word of protest, but you swear that you can feel his disappointment radiating off of him in thick, asphyxiating waves. “please don’t tell daddy,” you had sniffed, eyes big and teary. and megumi can’t bring himself to blame you or to be mad at you because you’re so sweet and sensitive and a little too good for this world. that and you have no idea how much seeing you cry fucks with his head. 
“you’re a smart girl, baby.” he’d replied softly — though his eyes were hard and his grip on the steering wheel even harder, indicated by the white of his knuckles. “you shouldn’t be messing around in places like this. it’s exactly why you should be in college.” 
like the good big (step) brother he is, fushiguro sneaks you back into the house without a word to your watchful father. instead, he spends the rest of the night comforting you with silly cartoons to heal your inner child. deep down, it means a lot — usually the two of you would argue over control of the remote, and he would always win. this time, megumi lets you be. 
“i don’t think i’m cut out for college,” you sigh after a moment’s silence, ren and stimpy providing the backing track to your vocalised thoughts. “‘m not much aside from my pretty face.” 
fushiguro rolls over so that you lay side by side, nudging you with his elbow playfully. “what would you do instead?” 
“i dunno,” growing bashful, you tuck your face into your shoulder — afraid that he might laugh. “start a fashion business, give people make overs? i think i’m good at that.” 
“you’re good at a lot of things, angel. and making people feel god about themselves is one of them,” rather than belittling your dreams, tearing them down like you’d expect — megumi encourages you, flashing you a small yet supportive smile. “you take care of people.” 
flustered by his praise, you lean into megumi’s side — playing footsie with him at the end of your bed shyly. “you’re better at taking care of me, though.” you whisper, nearly missing the way his eyes drop to your lip-gloss smudged lips. 
“yeah? s’what big brothers are for, right?” he whispers back, a breath’s width away from your lips, nose inches away from nudging yours as if he’s going to kiss you. he wouldn’t be your step-brother if he wasn’t so full of annoying surprises, instead of pulling you into a lip lock — megumi grasps at the remote on your other side in an attempt to change the channel to something more boring and scholarly. 
you protest in the form of a sibling play fight causing you both to roll around in the sheets — fighting for the remote or perhaps dominance over the sexual tension that thickens the air. heat rises throughout the room and your wrestling turns to megumi pinning you to your babyish pink sheets, straddling your waist. he grips your wrists, clasping them together between his large, veiny hands and forces them above your head.
everything happens so quickly, yet so slowly and all at once. one moment you’re fighting like siblings do and the next — megumi fushiguro is finally kissing you, tongue lapping at the crack between your parted lips from where you’ve gasped in shock. tasting every ounce and every essence of the remainder of your gloss, breathing weightily into your mouth as if it’s a relief to have it pressed against his own. you swallow everything he gives you and drink up his saliva as it pools into your mouth to the point where your head spins and you feel like he’s spiked you with arousal. 
this is wrong, on so many levels. as if you would ever make out with your step brother. but this isn’t some kind of twisted dream, it’s a reality you find yourself basking in. you pull megumi onto you by the roots of his dark hair, mewling each time your lips slot together perfectly and whining when his hips start to jut down to meet the softness of your tummy. or when his large hands push and pull at sensitive parts of your body. 
“you’re nothin’ like those college girls.” he tells you once you break apart for air. megumi’s nose nudges your cheek and his kisses dive lower into the crook of your neck while he waits for you to catch your breath. “you’re softer, prettier, you’re—“
he lets go of your wrists.
tilting your head back into your plush pillows, your shaky fingers tangle in the dark, unruly curls of your step brother’s baby hairs. “i’m what?” you tease through a series of pretty little moans, like music to megumi’s ears. you feel him twitch against your inner thigh and the temperature of his body spikes to a sweltering degree. 
“perfect.” his rough tongue swipes over your prominent collarbones and over the fabric of your dress, slipping under the crevice where your breasts meets your rib cage. using his teeth, fushiguro pulls down your dress until it inches off of your shoulders, revealing more of your skin marked with scars, beauty and stretch marks. it comes off easily, exposing you to a pair of hungry, murky blue eyes. the dress remains bunched at your middle.
you must be tripping out — you’ve never seen this look in your step brother’s eyes before. he stares up at you, lips swollen and breath ragged, as if you’re the last meal on earth he’ll ever get to taste. the sexual tension was never obvious to you, and while you’ve always found megumi weird — it didn’t mean you disliked his company. 
“quit staring,” you whine, arching your back into megumi’s touch as it drags across your searing flesh. “it’s weird…you’re making it seem like it’s a bad thing…” 
he yanks down the front of your dress, smooths down the valley between your breasts and over your tummy as they rise and fall with each of your baited breaths. “you don’t like it when i look at you, pretty baby?” then suddenly, his thumb slips back over your naked nipple, curling your sensitive areola before applying a gentle pressure that makes you jolt up the bed. “there’s nothin’ bad about you.” 
fushiguro’s grip runs down to your sides like an easy stream of water, grasping at any flesh he can while simultaneously pulling your hips up to meet his — slotting perfectly against your body to make sure you can feel how hard he is for you. “i’m not like those college girls you’re usually into…” comes your shaky whisper. “‘m too dumb.”
it’s weird, megumi’s never made you nervous until now. 
“no. you’re smart, you’re perfect… you deserve more than the guys that you’re into. you shouldn’t waste your time.” 
his steady hands slide over the curve of your ass, dip beneath the hem of your dress to play with your doughy thighs and every note of his praise is sung over your quivering body.
“so what?” you go on, stepping into the dark to explore whatever the fuck this is with your step brother. “i should waste it on college boys like you?” 
the tail end of your words are lost in a gasped breath as megumi nudges a knuckle against the crotch of your underwear — chuckling softly at the wetness that pools in the seat of them. “you would be if you came with me.” a sort of sick and twisted expression, morphs on his handsome face. one that’s usually so stoic and unreactive to your whines and mewls. but this version of megumi seems to like watching you squirm, revels in the way your hips buck up on instinct the further he presses his fingers between your sticky, viscous folds. “god, sweetheart. your princess parts are already so wet for me.” 
heat flashes across your face, accompanied by the unfamiliar twinge of lust you for megumi you feel buzzing beneath your skin and swirling with the blood in your veins. the way he coos down at you, eyes hooded and tone condescending — it only serves to cloud your judgement and your mind. you shouldn’t be doing this. but you want to. so badly. 
“shut up.” you huff and look away, eyes threatening to roll back into your skull as megumi flicks at your clit from over your skimpy panties. the more he plays with you, rubs at his little sister’s cute pussy, the more your thighs twitch apart — revealing the treasure between them to his dirty-minded gaze. 
the groan that follows vibrates around in the cavity of megumi’s chest before shooting down to your glistening core as it convulses under his fingertips. “you’ll miss me when i go back, don’t deny it.” he tells you like he knows you, voice horse with growing desire. “you should really come with.” 
you scrunch your nose up at his request — of course he would choose now of all times to be annoying and tease you about college. “as if, megumi.” you warn, though it’s hard to stay mad at him when he presses two fingers against your spasming entrance, azure eyes darkening at a stream of your arousal dampens your panties — defining the shape of your puffy folds even more. 
“yeah, yeah. i know, baby. not the time, huh?” megumi hums in amusement, gaze flickering up to your face to watch it twist with euphoria as he continues to pinch and rub at your cunt until your chest is heaving. “you want it that bad. wanna be touched so bad. pretty girls like you can’t do anything without their big brothers...” while he rambles over the drool replacing logical words on his tongue, your step brother pulls his hand away from your sex briefly to push past the lace scalloping on your underwear and access your wetness. “all this, ‘cause of me?” 
“all ‘cause of you.” you breathe the words out like they’re air and nod shyly at your own admission despite the high pitched, babyish tone. to let your stupid older step brother know how much he affects you is embarrassing, borderline humiliating, but you can’t help but fall into him. megumi rewards you with two fingers stroking their way past the tight ring of your entrance, curling instantly to explore your gummy, oozing walls and locate the exact spots that make you tick.
he presses a chaste kiss to your sweaty cheek, body hunched over your shaky one as if to shield the scandalous sight from the world. his little sister split open on his fingers, drenching him in her scent and her slick as fushiguro scissors them and fucks you silly. “mhm, that’s my girl. so nice for me and my fingers. i like you better this way,” he slurs, long and dark lashes (ones that you’d die for) fluttering against your skin as his digits move faster and faster within your selfish, ribbed walls. “when all you can do is cry and make those pretty noises, instead of being a little brat to me all the time.” 
fushiguro pauses his ministrations, forcing you to wriggle and writhe and chase your pleasure for only a moment. “m-megumi!” your hips jut upwards in an attempt to coax some friction out of him, anything on your pulsing clit or against your pleasure spots dotted along your insides. “p-please. fuck, gumi— i need it.” 
he only smiles, his thumb finding your clit and his fingers pick up the pace — bearing down on your g-spot with every thrust into your tight heat. “that’s what i like to hear, none of that back talk. just your pretty voice, beggin’ for me.” he sweet talks you over the dirty, lewd and squishy sounds from your thoroughly fucked cunt as they ring out into the sex tainted air. they form a chorus with your hiccups and pathetic bleats for more — and if your body is a choir, megumi fushiguro is the conductor. he guides you to the gates of heaven, feeds you pieces of pleasure from the grapevine of sun and you let him. 
because he’s your big (step) brother, and you trust him after all. 
“fuck, you’re so pretty. could watch you make a mess of me all night.” 
the bricks bliss build up in your lower tummy, cemented together by megumi’s relentless fingers pumping in and out of your slick sex. you’re the perfect vision, a sight to behold — darling gem eyes shiny with tears, tongue tied to the roof of your mouth by strings of saliva and your body doused with a glimmer of perspiration. your step brother can’t help but create a copy of you grinding against his hand on his mind. filing it away for later. 
pulling his fingers from your selfish heat, megumi brings his hand down against it in a harsh slap — his entire body shuddering at the surprised wail you let out, and the stream of juices that fly up his arm as a result. “ooh, baby. what a pretty noise you just made.” he laments with a rough voice, soothing over the spank with soft flicks to your swollen clit. “can you do that again for me?” 
he doesn’t give you the chance to answer, spanking your pussy again, and again and again until his head is heavy with the sounds of your broken moans and your panties are soaked all the way through — darkened by the running two of your sweet honey nectar that allow his slender fingers to slip back inside you with ease. 
they tease at your stimulated walls and push and pull your tight little hole — and you swear you can practically see the stars that line the night sky with every new sensation. fushiguro is in no better state, cock painstakingly hard and straining against the insides of his sweats while his cool midnight eyes drink in the way your hips stutter and struggle to keep up with the pace of his digits inside of you. 
“‘gumi… i think i—“ your words escape you, drowned out by your own pussy as it squelches around megumi’s fingers. 
he kisses your forehead, contrasting my soft compared to the way he stretches you open and preps you for his cock. “i bet that feets good, huh? you feel like you’re gonna cum.” his tone turns into a mocking one, deep enough to send shivers down your spine and threaten to knock down the wall of mounting pleasure in your lower gut.
tears teeter over the edge of your waterline, streaking a hot path down the apples of your angelic cheeks as your hips lift off the bed — chasing the high only your big brother could give to you. “feels so good, p-please let me cum, ‘gumi.” 
you look to him for reassurance and permission, hiccuping as megumi pulls his fingers out of you to trace from your clit and down the length of your juicy slit. pride swirls in his blazing chest when your body jerks at the sensation, hips running after the source of pleasure. you’re such a good little thing, so pliant and naive — following after your step brother no matter what he does to you. maybe you’re right, maybe you’re a little too dumb for college. but it doesn’t matter right now, not with the way your creamy entrance clenched down on fushiguro lovingly, pleading with him to let you cum.
you’re so close and he knows it, he’d have given into you if he weren’t trying to make this last. 
“actually, i want you to do something for me.” he stops right before you’re about to burst, dragging his fingers out of your pulsating pussy to smear your wetness across your tummy and thighs. 
a babyish blubber bubbles up on the swell of your pouty lips, coated in a layer of salt from your free-flowing tears. “w-what? m-megumi! i was so close!” you say in a petulant manner, squishing your thigh together and trapping his hand between them as if to coax him back into making you cum.
“so spoilt, more like.” your step brother bites back, almost punishing you by removing his body from yours so that he can rid himself off all of his clothes. he tosses them off the bed, but not before pulling his phone from his sweatpants and setting it to the side.
you swallow thickly when his cock springs free and slaps against his washboard abs. megumi is lengthier than he has girth, his balls heavy with an incredulous amount of seed saved up just for you. his tip is pink, almost bright red but coated in a layer of pre that’s no doubtedly smeared along the inside of his sweats but it’s a delicious sight to see nonetheless. 
now you really must be bugging. you’re most certainly clueless to have never thought of megumi this way before today. 
your throat bobs when he grabs hold of his rock hard shaft, hissing at the first few lazy pumps he gives himself.  “i want you to do something for me. then i’ll make you cum.” fushiguro proposes gruffly, locking eyes with you carnally. “put on a show for me princess, ride one of your cute little stuffed animals over there so i can make a memory for when i go back to college.” 
his ask doesn’t register in your pretty little head, and megumi figures he might have left you dazed from withholding your orgasm. or maybe you’re distracted by the way in which he fists his cock, spreading webs of milky white up and down his shaft and over his mushroomed tip with each movement. you hardly notice the fact that he’s reached for his phone, setting it to record using his free hand. 
“you hear me, pretty… fuck…girl?” he curses in a low moan, squeezing himself. 
this time, your attention shoots to his face while your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “y-you want me to… fuck my stuffie?” 
you ask megumi so innocently, head tilted to the side like a sweet little puppy dog and he swears he might bust to you right then and there. 
“fuck…yes.” 
“and you won’t touch me?” 
“not until i’m satisfied, princess.” 
and like the bratty little sister you are, dress pushed down to your middle and makeup askew, you huff at your step-brother — all while grabbing your favourite and biggest stuffed bear to tuck against the ruined treasure between your thighs. 
“you’re so fuckin’ mean, ‘gumi,” you try to keep your cool, but you’re too sensitive — lowering your twitching sex onto the soft toy slowly. “o-oh…”
he angles the camera perfectly to record you, zooming in on your cute little cunt as it slips and slides over the bear with ease.
even beyond the camera, you’re a sight for megumi fushiguro’s sore eyes, each of your curves and dips illuminated by the glistening beads of sweat that roll over the expanse of your skin – catching the low, warm yellow light from up above. he always knew that his little step sister was pretty, practically an angel, but up until now he’d relied soley on his dirty imagination to picture the way you’d look fucking yourself for him. the stuffed toy easily disappears between the meat of your pudgy thighs as you rock back and forth over it, nudging your clit against the nose of the fluffy brown bear.
“feels good, right?” he mumbles lowly, the sound vibrating in his chest. megumi can’t help but be engrossed in your every move, the soft jut of your hips and the bite down on your plump and shiny lips, the way in which your fingers dare to dance up the salacious softness to your curves and skin. “my pretty little thing. i can see why your daddy loves you so much. you’re such a good girl, listening to everything i say.”
megumi’s words waft over your mind like a thick fog of lust, darkening every pure thought you’ve ever had. your whole body twitches at their patronising air, dopamine crackling about in your skull and shooting down to the heartbeat swirling around your fluttering hole. it gushes and gushes, like an endless stream of erotica and glazes over the apex of your thighs like the shin of a sugary treat.
one that makes your step brother’s mouth water with anticipation.
each of your sweet mewls and whistle-tone bleats run through his ears like thick honey, rotting him from the inside out. perhaps that’s what makes megumi so perverted and what makes him crush on his perfect and prim little sister, you’re a fool to have not noticed it before. how he looked at you then and how megumi looks at you now, midnight blue and stormy orbs drowning with lust. your gaze flutters down to his cock, standing tall and flushed against his creamy white skin, neglected as it leaks all over his stomach.
“oh you like that, huh? you shake so much when i talk to you like that.” fushiguro starts to fist his cock faster, matching the speed at which you shakily circle your hips over the poor stuffed animal — panting as it’s fabric darkens with your wetness. “a daddy’s girl through ‘n through.” he teases while you throw it back for his phone.
sure enough, the camera picks up his warm chocolate voice as it coos its praises to you. such a good girl. ride it out princess. all of it fills you to the brim with wanton and desire, makes you crumble before the glaring lense of fushiguro’s phone.
“s-shut up.” 
“uh-uh. and you were doing so well,” your step brother sounds almost cruel, reminding you of the reasons you didn’t get along before today. acting like a school boy picking on his crush, being mean to her because deep down he knows that she likes it. that you like it. “don’t be rude baby. put on a show for ‘gumi.” 
he takes to palming himself more, precum slinging across his knuckles and down his thighs the more turned on he gets. it clings to every vein on his shaft, spreads to the weight of his balls and no doubt can be heard through the camera since slick and lewd noises of the both of you touching yourselves echo throughout your bedroom. megumi does his best to keep the camera steady, but he can’t help himself — following your movements and thrusting up into his closed fist to mock your pussy while you ride your stuffie for dear life.
you’re still so sensitive, but your big brother can tell you’re trying so hard to keep up for him — fighting off your next orgasm as it builds up strong in your lower belly. you want to please megumi, at the end of the day. a smart girl like you knows  “that’s it, keep it movin’ for me…god, you make me wanna cum.” 
you pout at the praise, rutting over the face of your stuffed animal as you breath heavy. it feels way too good, you’re overwhelmed by too many senses and megumi watching you spill your juices about the place doesn’t seem to help. dragging a hand up to your bare chest, you tweak your nipples and tug them until  a needy squeal dancing on your wobbly bottom lip — doing your very best to please the dark haired college student.
you want him to cum, want him to memorise the way your eyes roll back and your moans and quivers — you feel so beautiful beneath his heavy, desire burdened stare. “m-megumi,” you say for the millionth time that night, squirming before his very eyes while you dream on the nose of your precious toy. “i-i’m close!” your hips burn holding back you release, exhaustion and just intertwining in your veins — combusting in your lungs. 
clueless. you were absolutely clueless as to how it would feel falling apart under the caring gaze of someone who loves you so much. 
“yeah, pretty girl?” fushiguro hums gently, giving his cock one last squeeze at the base — cutting off the stream of ore that he dribbles from the source. “c’mere, i gotcha.” he shuffles over to you on the bed, catching you before you fall with his lips pressed to your wet babyish cheeks. “i’ll let you cum, but only on my cock. you’ve got to stay good for me, okay?” 
nodding timidly, you accept a few more kisses from megumi — the ones that he peppers across your face, before he manoeuvres you onto your side and nestles in right behind you. “say you want me,” the words coast along the back of your neck and your body erupts in goosebumps. his voice will always be like a dragon breathing life into a fire. sure to be careful, megumi lifts one of your thighs and hooks it over his slender waist so that he can better access your sluice sex.
he tugs your underwear to the side with one hand and positions his cock at your entrance, sliding the length of his shaft through the strings of your arousal glueing your pussy lips together. both of you hiss in harmony when his bright red tip grinds messily against your pulsing pleasure bud. your unused hole clenches around nothing, pushing out juices as if to claim megumi. 
your head rolls back to rest on megumi’s broad shoulder and you reach a hand behind you to tangle in the dark mass of his sweaty locks — keeping him close. “i need you, ‘gumi. please.” you rasp weakly as his shaft breaches your silken walls, coating him in everything your body has to offer. you spoil megumi, giving him a moment to remember before he leaves for college again.
there’s a delicious residual burn from the way his girth stretches you out causing your cunt so selfishly squeezes down on every inch of your step brother’s milky cock. with a stuttered breath, fushiguro bottoms out until his balls are pressed hotly against your ass and his seedy mushroomed tip is just grazing your womb. 
“just what i wanted to hear,” he purrs into the shell of your ear — nipping it tenderly. you blubber softly into the satin pillows, prepped with a fresh set of tears as you push back onto megumi to meet the push and pull of his dick into your tight, creamy sex. “you’ve always needed me, pretty thing. my precious baby sister, relyin’ on me for everything. even this.”
your entire body burns bright with desire for megumi, you’re surprised you’ve gone this long without him before today. maybe you’ve always needed to feel his sticky tip grind against your juicy walls or his hot breath fanning against your shoulders and neck. you’ve always needed your step brother to guide you in the right direction. you’ve always needed megumi.
“f-fuck, g-gumi!” 
fushiguro fucks you slow and softly, pouring all of his affections into you — letting it buzz in the sex scented air between your salt slicked bodies. his fingertips leave their paw prints along your tiger striped thighs and soft tummy, he’ll kiss them better later, but for now he just wants you to know how much he’s always needed you.  “oh i know pretty girl, i know.” comes megumi’s low, bristling simper — adding to the stacks of pleasure cementing together in your lower tummy. “you’re so good, taking me just right. i’ve always known you’d be good for me.” 
your back arches away from the molten centre of your step brother’s chest but he refuses to let you run from him — wrapping a strong arm around your middle to anchor you and your pussy down on his throbbing cock. “i never wanted to ruin you.” he drawls hungrily, but that doesn’t stop the salacious buck of his hips upwards and the way his hands traverse over each of your perfect imperfections. “but you’re such a sweet thing… you always have been. god, baby, you drive me crazy.” 
fumbling around on the bed, megumi gasps at the phone and hits record once more — propping the device up on the nightstand opposite you so that he can remain hands free. “this body, this princess cunt… the way you grip my hair—“ as if on cue, your fingers tighten at his dark roots and tug him down for a sloppy, spit swapping kiss. “everything about you, s’perfect.” 
the room spins with ecstasy and your pathetic screams die in your throat at the feeling of megumi’s abs contacting against your back, his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again. you drip sweet nectar onto the sheets, his pelvis and his thighs — tainting him with your precious sin. everything burns with exertion and exhaustion, so you’re forced to slump against your big brother and rely on him to carry you to the high heavens of pleasure.
he doesn’t disappoint, cupping your swaying breasts as you jolt up the bed from the force of his pounding thrusts, flicking at your nipples while keeping himself tucked in your squishy insides. you’re pleasured from every possible angle and it’s all caught on grainy film for megumi to take to college when he leaves without you. 
“‘m so fucking happy… t-that our parents got divorced. s-so that i can…have you like this.” fushiguro tongues at the pulse point under your ear, giving you one hard thrust to emphasise the point, it makes you jump, pushing you that little bit closer to the edge. your step brother never stops pumping himself in and out of you, hardly giving you a second to breathe between sucking on your tongue and slapping a hand down on your slit. 
“aren’t you happy?” he goes on to ask, carving the shape of his dick into your raw sex. “take a deep breath for me, gorgeous.” 
megumi wraps a hand around your throat from behind, squeezing ever so slightly and your glistening doe eyes tear away from the camera to focus on him. you witness the stars align in his azure orbs, the adoration they hold for you and a cry-baby wail slips from between your cherry bitten lips in response. 
“look so pretty with my hand around your throat ‘n my cock in your pussy… look at that. it’s like your body was made for me.” he chimes up again, watching the drool deep from the corner of your mouth as it hangs open with dry moans, like a a cute puppy panting. “how lucky are we?”
“o-oh! gumi!” you sniff blearily, not caring that there isn’t enough air in your brain to think straight. you’re swallowing down his cock and he’s leaking fat droplets of precum against the ridges of your walls — only adding to your wetness. megumi can’t expect a single logical thought to escape you this way. “‘m s-so glad. s-so lucky! so happy! i-i love you.”
the stuttered admission brings out the worst in megumi, causing him to lose his shit. your panties are rubbing his shaft raw, your pussy’s so good that he feels like he’s fucking high, not to mention you sound so pretty he could die here and be the happiest man alive. a feral desire takes over your step brother, his snapping his hips into you so hard that your headboard repeatedly smashes against the wall.
your panties are completely soaked through at this point, equally as ruined as your cunt… but megumi doesn’t care. “love you too. my good girl, my good fucking girl.” he coos, his thrusts growing animalistic and erratic — your bodies dancing to the tune of desire as you chase release. “can you cum for me, pretty? wanna see it, bet you’re so gorgeous when you’re cumming for me little sis.” 
despite being fucked brainless, you still manage to do what you’re told — your hips back onto his from their own accord, puffy pussy locking down on megumi’s base to keep him inside. “i’m close… r-right there gumi!” you choke out.
“right here, baby?” is all he manages to respond with, moaning pornographically into your sweaty shoulder while he shifts the angle of his thrusts. “wanna feel you gush all fucking over me.” 
that’s all you need to hear before your toe curling orgasm comes crashing down on you like a large tidal wave. the knot in your tummy finally unravels and you break beneath the pressure of it all, waves of your juices splashing out onto the sheets and megumi’s pelvis — rewarding him for fucking you this good. you cum so hard that it’s enough to force megumi from your twitching hole, expelling a musky scent into the air.
“f-fucking shit, fuuuck me…” fushiguro stumbles off the edge not long after, using the seam of your panties to finish himself off while you twitch through the aftershocks of your high. he just barely makes it, fucking your underwear and nudging his sensitive cockhead against your abused mound until he’s filling the seat of your panties with fat globs of white hot seed. “jesus…’hmygod, baby. you’re such an angel...d-did so fucking well for me.” 
he peppers you with smooches until you’re calmed down enough to be rolled onto your back. megumi is careful to pull away from you, staying close while you sniffle and come back down to earth. he babies you throughout, lifting the rest of your dress over your head and waiting until you say he can move before grabbing you a spare shirt from your dresser.
“let me see you.” megumi whispers lovingly when he crawls back onto the bed to join you. he grabs his phone from the nightstand and ends its recording, pushing your thighs apart to snap pictures of your cum soaked undies and the thick white that clings to your fat pussy lips and clit. “perfect, you’re so perfect. 
“i am?” you whinge — camera shy. but you don’t tell him to stop, letting your older step brother rub his sensitive and overworked cock over your crotch, smearing the last evidence of your orgasms against you for a quick video. another one that’ll be added to his spank bank for later. “‘gumi…” you warn once you start to feel overstimulated.
he chuckles at how whiny you are, tugging your clean shirt over your head before he pulls you into his arms. “i got it, i’m sorry.” rocking you both back and forth, fushiguro kisses the crown of your head. “yanno… if you’re so serious about not joining me at college. i’ll try and convince your dad to let you stay in town. as long as you keep up your promise and try to start a business.” 
your heart skips a beat, and you cast a glance upwards at your step brother. “really?” 
“really. if it means that much to you.” 
sleep settles heavy in megumi’s bones and on his pretty face — one you didn’t realise you loved so much. “it does! thank you, ‘gumi,” you say quickly, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw. “m-maybe you college boys aren’t so bad.” 
“oh come on now, didn’t me fucking you stupid literally just prove that?” 
“maybe.” 
“so you’ll come visit me at college then. since you like me so much.” fushiguro quips cheekily, narrowly missing your swat to his chest. 
you roll your eyes and try to unravel yourself from your step brother’s affectionate grip, but don’t hide your smile. “ugh! as if, don’t get ahead of yourself.” 
but teasing megumi further only gets you dragged back into the sheets — two sets of laughter echoing throughout the room in what appears to be another sibling fight. 
except this time, you’re not as clueless. 
you know that something like this, and with megumi, means something much, much more.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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veritasangel · 2 months
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comforting love
ft. Price, Soap, Gaz, Simon
⋆ ˚。⋆ fem pov ୨୧˚ warnings: none {wc: 778} ༄ I just love sweet tf141
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Thinking about being Price's wife and the rest of the guys just love you. Honestly they adore you before even meeting you, just glad the Captain’s found someone that makes him gush like a teenager just talking about you to them.
And then when they meet you, they totally get the way he acts now. You were so sweet, even bringing them all personalised care packages based on things Price had told you about them. You had said you were bringing Price one and felt bad leaving his boys out, especially when they all probably missed home whilst at base.
For some, it was a cute gesture, one not too unfamiliar. But to Simon, receiving something made with such care from someone was foreign.
He thanked you and tried to act indifferent but as soon as he was in the barracks, he was studying everything inside. Some much needed snacks and drinks, a small cute hand painted cartoon ghost figure typical as well as a new journal and a fancy pen that he had no idea how to use. Price must’ve told you he’d began journaling to help his thoughts.
Everyone managed to move on pretty quickly from the thoughtful gifts they received but Simon really cherished it. He ended up having a heart to heart with Price one evening about it after one too many drinks, a few tears even making an appearance, that he claimed was allergies.
A night that Price told you about, the memory of it surfacing as you visited the base again and as you greeted them all, Simon just gave you a really long and silent hug. You didn’t know exactly what he was thinking, but you let him have this moment and he was grateful for it.
Then there was Gaz. Typical sweetheart. Always complimenting you, a kiss to your hand here and there, maybe even a friendly kiss on the cheek, earning a chuckled “Don’t try and steal my missus.” from Price. 
And when you returned a compliment one time, he couldn’t find any words for a good few minutes, cheeks burning hot before clearing his throat and mumbling an almost shy, slightly inaudible thank you. 
He’s always asking Price how things are with you and what you’ve been up to when the group doesn't see you for a while. 
He jokes that he can live vicariously through Price and hoping one day he can find someone as sweet as you. And when you hear about this, you’re tempted to set Gaz up with a friend of yours but Price convinces you that it’s an awful idea so you refrain.
And of course Gaz sends you flowers for valentines day along with a sweet note and a thank you for keeping their beloved Captain happy.
“How big was the bouquet?” John asks,
“I don’t know, normal size?” you question,
“Not bigger than mine?” he adds,
“No.”
“Good, can’t have Gaz upstaging me like that.” 
And of course, Soap. Shameless flirting right from the start and awful cheesy jokes on top of that. He was exactly the way Price described him, if not amplified about a thousand times more in person.
“I mean ma name’s John too, I’m like basically halfway to being your husband anyway.”
The guys appreciated his jokes but they could only hear them for so long before losing their mind. So when you were on base, he was running through every joke and story in his head so he could hear actual genuine laughter at his humour.
And by the end he was definitely addicted to the sound, a tiny bit jealous that Price gets to hear it so often, even if he would never admit it.
“So for her birthday, I was thinking we could get the second instalment of that book she loves.” Soap says with a grin.
“I know what to buy my wife Soap, I’ve got it covered.”
“Alright, well I know the lass well enough now to give you great suggestions, you should listen.” Soap mumbles as he adds the book to his basket, followed by a few more, earning a pointed stare from Price.
When you were visiting Price on base, you gave all of the guys a home away from home and they all appreciated you massively.
You visited for your husband of course, but you got to know them all, looking out for them as well. Making them feel loved even when you didn’t need to.
“So when do we get to see our girl-” Soap begins,
“My girl.” Price interrupts with a warning stare.
“Our girl.” Gaz repeats Soap's words.
“Yeah. They’re both right, Cap'n. Our girl.” Simon adds.
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༄ cod m.list
© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴
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emberwhite · 8 months
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I spent the last 11 months working with my illustrator, Marta, to make the children's book of my dreams. We were able to get every detail just the way I wanted, and I'm very happy with the final result. She is the best person I have ever worked with, and I mean, just look at those colors!
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I wanted to tell that story of anyone's who ever felt that they didn't belong anywhere. Whether you are a nerd, autistic, queer, trans, a furry, or some combination of the above, it makes for a sad and difficult life. This isn't just my story. This is our story.
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I also want to say the month following the book's launch has been very stressful. I have never done this kind of book before, and I didn't know how to get the word out about it. I do have a small publishing business and a full-time job, so I figured let's put my some money into advertising this time. Indie writers will tell you great success stories they've had using Facebook ads, so I started a page and boosting my posts.
Within a first few days, I got a lot of likes and shares and even a few people who requested the book and left great reviews for me. There were also people memeing on how the boy turns into a delicious venison steak at the end of the book. It was all in good fun, though. It honestly made made laugh. Things were great, so I made more posts and increased spending.
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But somehow, someway these new posts ended up on the wrong side of the platform. Soon, we saw claims of how the book was perpetuating mental illness, of how this book goes against all of basic biology and logic, and how the lgbtq agenda was corrupting our kids.
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This brought out even more people to support the book, so I just let them at it and enjoyed my time reading comments after work. A few days later, then conversation moved from politics to encouraging bullying, accusing others of abusing children, and a competition to who could post the most cruel image. They were just comments, however, and after all, people were still supporting the book.
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But then the trolls started organizing. Over night, I got hit with 3 one-star reviews on Amazon. My heart stopped. If your book ever falls below a certain rating, it can be removed, and blocked, and you can receive a strike on your publishing account. All that hard work was about to be deleted, and it was all my fault for posting it in the wrong place.
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I panicked, pulled all my posts, and went into hiding, hoping things would die down. I reported the reviews and so did many others, but here's the thing you might have noticed across platforms like Google and Amazon. There are community guidelines that I referenced in my email, but unless people are doing something highly illegal, things are rarely ever taken down on these massive platforms. So those reviews are still there to this day. Once again, it's my fault, and I should have seen it coming.
Luckily, the harassment stopped, and the book is doing better now, at least in the US. The overall rating is still rickety in Europe, Canada, and Australia, so any reviews there help me out quite a lot. I'm currently looking for a new home to post about the book and talk about everything that went into it. I also love to talk about all things books if you ever want to chat. Maybe I'll post a selfie one day, too. Otherwise, the book is still on Amazon, and the full story and illustrations are on YouTube as well if you want to read it for free.
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greenglowinspooks · 11 months
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To be honest. DCxDP where the reason Danny meets the bats is Ace the Bat-hound
Like, just think about it for a second. Danny is in Gotham for college, or maybe he just moved out to find a city where having mad scientist parents isn’t actually that unusual.
He can see ghosts.
The ghosts know this.
Now he’s getting harassed left and right by spirits trying to get closure. Fine, whatever, most of them are a one-and-done type deal, and the amount of ghosts trying to get his help steadily decreases.
Except for this one very stubborn dog.
It just keeps showing up and leading him to crime scenes! He doesn’t know how many “anonymous tips” he can call in to the cops before they trace his phone! And this dog, this incredibly good boy, will not stop trying to help the city. He’s never met anyone with such a strong sense of justice, let alone a dog. Can dogs even have a moral compass?
And so Danny just accepts the fact that Ace isn’t going anywhere and becomes his reluctant sidekick/dedicated medium. He leans into the whole thing, dressing up in a mix of traditional magic-user attire and accessories that pay homage to the ghost dog.
He becomes somewhat well known. The psychopomp detective following around the shadowy figure of a German Shepard? That’s unusual! That’s weird! I mean, it’s not the weirdest thing in Gotham, sure, but he’s a new vigilante and he’s got a ghost dog that people can only see when it’s around him. Someone’s gonna notice.
Damian, as Robin, is the first to reach out to him.
Ace doesn’t know Damian but he does know a Robin, and while this isn’t his Robin, he’s still friendlier than usual. Danny’s panicking because oh god the bats are here and also is this kid gonna steal my ghost dog, Damian is absolutely delighted by Ace, and Ace is just happy to see a Robin again.
Damian decides that the psychopomp isn’t a danger to anyone, and there’s no reason to put this encounter into his reports, really, and perhaps Danny can help with some of his cases in the future.
Danny is sweating bullets because Damian basically tells him that he’ll keep him secret as long as he gets to play with Ace. Ace is happy that he’s finally getting some bat affiliated crime-fighting assistance.
And so, Danny is now both Ace AND Damian’s reluctant assistant. At least whenever he’s in trouble, he can always call a middle schooler to help him.
(Is Robin even in school? He’s out patrolling damn near every night, and he stays out late as hell. Does he have a bedtime? He should.)
Eventually it gets to the point where Damian is going over to Danny’s house. When he first sees it, he has a damn bitch you live like this moment, to which Danny responds that not everyone has the money to afford a nice place. Damian counters that he could at least take the time to clean up, and Danny replies that he’s working, going to school, and being a vigilante assistant to a ghost dog, something’s got to give.
Danny nearly has a heart attack when he checks his bank account the next day and sees that someone transferred him 10,000 dollars.
And so they get into a routine. Danny and Damian fight crime with Ace at night, and occasionally Damian stops by during the day to play with Ace and have Danny help with his homework.
(Damian is smart enough to do it on his own, but some of the instructions are written incredibly confusingly, and he would never admit to needing help to his family. Danny is just glad that the kid is in school and cares about his education, blissfully unaware that he’s basically emotionally adopted him.)
Damian is used to being in Danny’s company.
Eventually, when going over a case with the family, Damian absentmindedly remarks that he’ll have to ask Danny about some of the clues that they might be missing. Nightwing asks who he means and Damian makes a face like he just swallowed a lemon.
Cue shitstorm.
Who is “Danny?” Why is Damian willing to ask for help from anyone, much less someone outside of the family? Does he know who Damian is? Has Damian been compromised? What the hell is going on?
Damian now has to explain that Danny is the psychopomp with the ghost dog who he might have met hunted down while on patrol and conveniently not mentioned, but he’s not a bad person, really, and he lets him play with Ace, and he’s been quite helpful on certain cases due to his ability to talk to ghosts.
Bruce insists that the family meet Danny. Damian, hoping that he won’t just skip town the second he hears the news, relents.
Danny is surprisingly eager to meet the bats, considering his earlier fears.
Damian, blissfully unaware of what’s coming, sets a time and place to meet.
Once everyone is there, he gives Bruce the earful of a lifetime.
Robin is in middle school! Danny knows that there’s no way to stop the boy from going on patrol, but you could at least shift his schedule so he gets enough sleep on school nights! Does the Bat even know where he is half the time?! (No) And why isn’t he comfortable asking his family for help with both cases and homework? Did they ever even notice how much time he was spending at Danny’s house? If Danny was a bad person, he could have seriously hurt the poor boy! Shame on you!
Nightwing is mortified that Damian didn’t trust him enough to tell him about any of this. Red Hood is laughing his ass off, because yeah Danny is making good points but he’s also chewing out the literal Batman. Tim is recording the whole thing. Steph is delighted by the absolute gall of this Danger Twink™️, and already planning to add him to several groupchats. Damian is more embarrassed than he’s ever been in his entire life.
You, he points to Nightwing, did your academic life feel supported when you were a Robin? Nightwing is too stunned to speak. Red Hood, eternal shit-stirrer, says that oh, we all prioritized patrol over our education, that’s just how it is. Red Robin actually dropped out of high school to avoid distractions, did you know that?
Danny honest-to-god shrieks at this.
He finishes his angry rant and leaves, everyone too stunned to stop him.
And as it turns out, Tim wasn’t the only person recording the whole thing.
The entire internet is blowing up with Psychopomp The Danger Twink™️’s rant. People are taking sides. Things are getting messy. Red Hood literally admitting on-camera to previously being a Robin is somehow not the main focus here.
Eventually someone connects some dots from the video, as well as stories circling the internet about the psychopomp. A ghost dog named Ace, who is the literal only reason that the psychopomp is fighting crime at all, which seems incredibly fond of Nightwing and Robin.
A crime-fighting dog who wants constant attention from both the current and original Robin.
Oh my god, Ace the Bat-hound died and became a crime-fighting ghost.
And, somehow, that’s still not the strangest thing going on in Gotham.
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gallavichsreddie1128 · 2 months
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In the back of the Honda (Deadpool)
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Description: Y/N and Wade fuck in the back of the Honda
Warning: Smut
Word Count: 1,346k
Request: can we have a deadpool smut in the suit ?
Being in the void with Wade and Logan wasn’t so fun after all. Y/N thought that they would be a good team and could take on the world but she was wrong. All they kept doing was fighting and it was starting to piss her off. At first it was funny but now? After dealing with Nova, it was annoying. “Guys can you be serious for once?” She asked but they ignored her. Logan seemed to hate Wade’s guts especially after hearing that the promise Wade made was bullshit and that it wasn’t guaranteed to save his universe.
He said some pretty hurtful things but Y/N got his pain. “Y/N my dear, step out of the car.” He told her while staring at Logan through the mask. She didn’t question it and got out just for a fight to break out moments later. Wade and Logan flew out of the car multiple times and she looked unimpressed each time. She just wanted to be home with Wade but of course this happened. “Alright!” She yelled walking back up to the car. “Stop fighting!” She yelled and they both looked at her.
“I’m so sick of this! We need to come up with a plan instead of violence.” Being the voice of reason wasn’t easy when it came to these two. “You’re right.” Logan said and Wade agreed. Y/N smiled at the two, happy that she got her way. She turned around for a second and a fight broke out again. “WADE!”
Y/N yawned as she got up and realized that they weren’t in the Honda anymore but in a cabin? She looked over to see Logan drinking and Wade was still asleep. “Hey babe, wake up .” She shook him. “Thor!” She looked at him confused, “Were you dreaming about Thor?” She asked with a laugh.
“No. Maybe I- Where are we?” He asked, looking around. “I don’t know but I like it.” Logan smirked, holding up the liquor. Y/N got off the bed to examine the place. Wade followed her until he got knocked down by some woman. Y/N stepped back and saw who it was. Elektra. Her eyes widened and Wade got up. Blade had walked in next and then some random foreign guy. “The Gambit.” His accent was hot. “Who is this fine lady?” He asked walking up to Y/N. Wade had stepped in front of her, “Listen here friendo she is mine, okay?” Y/N chuckled at his jealousy and pushed him aside to shake the guy’s hand. “Y/N and yeah he’s my boyfriend.” Wade smiled under his mask at her words. X23 came out and it was Logan’s daughter which should have been emotional but since Logan doesn’t know her, it’s not? 
“Well we came out alive.” Y/N said and shivered at the memory of Nova’s fingers in her head. The others figured after hearing that, that they should give it a shot besides Logan. “You’re all fucking dead.” He said and though Y/N agreed with him, they couldn’t stay there forever. 
Y/N and Wade sat in the Honda as Logan talked to Laura. “Beautiful isn’t it?” He asked. “What is? The Honda?” Y/N knew that Wade hated this car and the fact that it’s all they have made it kinda funny. “Yeah, I mean it fucks hard.” Y/N looked at him, confused. “Fucks hard?” He nods and turns to her, “Watch this.” He said and got in the backseat.
He spread himself out and patted his lap. She felt herself get wet at that and climbed to the back with him. “Get on my lap kitten. Daddy’s gonna show you why this car fucks hard.” He told her and she did. His hands traveled up her body and to her tits, giving them a squeeze.
He watched her lightly gasp and closed her eyes. His hands moved down to her ass and he slapped it hard. “Fuck.” She groaned but loved it. His hands moved to her front and slipped in her leggings, “No panties you naughty girl.” He says and runs a finger over her clit. He didn’t take off his gloves so the feeling was new but she liked it. “Wade fuck.” She whined as his movements sped up on her pussy. His other hand sneaks in her leggings and circles her hole, “You are soaked, baby girl.” Even through the glove he could tell.
“Wade please.” She begged him and he stuck a finger in her tight pussy. He chuckled at the sound of her wet pussy. She threw her head back as he started to finger fuck her. One finger wasn’t enough so he added another. “Look at you, my pretty girl. All fucked out from just my fingers.” His words made her moan and she bucked her hips. His fingers were at a brutal pace now.
He slipped his hand that was rubbing her clit all the way up to her mouth. Her lips closed around his gloved fingers and sucked all her juices off it while moaning. “That’s a pretty girl.” He says and her hips start fucking his fingers. He was bold enough to add another finger in her causing her to nearly scream. He chuckled and removed his fingers from her mouth before going down to rub her clit again.
His glove was wet with her salvia and she whined at the feeling. It wasn’t too long before her pussy was fluttering on his fingers, “Are you close?” He asked and she nodded. She couldn’t form words besides his name. Her breathing turned to panting and she felt herself right on the edge when Wade stopped. He pulled his hands out of her leggings and she glared at him.
“We are making this car rock baby girl.” He tells her and pulls down his pants. She manages to remove her leggings and gets back on his lap. “Are you removing the mask?” She asked him and he shakes his head, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you in this suit.” He states and pulls her down so that his dick is right at her hole. “Oh fuck I can feel you dripping on me.” She smirks and slowly takes him in. He sucks in a breath and she gasps as he stretches her out.
“You look so beautiful taking my cock.” He says and she fully sits in his lap. His hands go to her hips and he slowly drags her on his cock. “Mmmm Wade.” She moans as he moves her on him. The pace was brutally slow so she started bouncing on him, actually making the car move. “Fuck yeah baby. Ride my cock.” He says and she moans. One of his hands moves up her shirt to one of her nipples.
She gasps at the feeling of him playing with it and throws her head back, “Shit. Wade, that’s gonna make me cum.” She warned and her pussy started fluttering around his dick. “Fuck sweetheart. You doing that’s gonna make me explode.” He breathed out. “Doggy style?” She asked and got off him. They quickly got in the position.
He slides himself back inside of her and she moans. He doesn’t waste time and starts fucking her again. His hands on her hips and hers gripping the car seat. The car was hot and the window’s became foggy. She placed one of her hands on the window as he never stopped ramming into her.
“Wade, I'm close again.” She warned and her breathing got heavier again. “Trust me baby. I can feel it.” He groaned and slapped her ass. She cried his name at that and he chuckled, “Cum for me baby.” He said and her eyes rolled back. A silent scream left her mouth as she felt herself cream his dick. “I’m cumming, fuck.” Wade whined as his hips stilled and his cum mixed with hers. “Mmmm fuck.” She said as he pulled out. She turned around and collapsed on the seat with him. She turns to look at him and smiles, “You’re right. The Honda Odyssey does fuck hard.” 
2K notes · View notes
soaps-mohawk · 8 months
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 2 - Adjustments
Summary: You're struggling a bit in your adjustment to your new life, and you're finding some of them are easier to get along with than others. Luckily you're not in it alone.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.
Author's Note: I'm so just overwhelmed with the attention this fic has gotten, but not in a bad way I promise! I'm just surprised is all. Thank you everyone that has read and reblogged and commented. I love all of you and so, since I have no self control, here is Chapter 2. Lots more world building and dialogue in this part, but I promise good stuff is coming.
Also I promise Soap will get his time soon. He's just the hardest for me to write, and you'll see why in this chapter.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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“She was lying.” 
Price doesn’t bother looking up as a dark figure leans against the wall next to him. He stares out at the empty space between the barracks and the mess hall, not much traffic between the buildings during this time of day. 
“About how she got to the institute.” 
“Or at least not telling the whole truth.” Price says, turning to look at Simon. “Something tells me she’d talk if we asked.” 
“She’s soft.” Simon says, letting his gaze drift off into the distance. 
“She’s a civilian.” Price counters. “The CIA did a little training, but she’ll need some work. We can’t leave her completely defenseless...” 
Simon turns to face him again. “There’s something else.” 
Price pushes himself off the wall, heading back inside. Simon follows, the two of them making their way down the hall to his office. “There’s hundreds of American military bases across the world, thousands of regiments they could have chosen from, and yet, they sent her to us.” 
Simon closes the door behind him as Price sinks into his desk chair. “You think it was deliberate?” 
Price pulls open one of the drawers, pulling out the file Kate had given him. “Laswell said the CIA has had eyes on her for years.” He slides it across his desk to Simon. “There’s a lot of why's in this situation, and a lot of how’s. Like, if what she’s saying is true, how did a Staff Sergeant get his daughter into FIOT practically overnight?” 
Simon glances up at him over the top of the file. “You think there’s something else going on with this Initiative.” 
Price nods. “I do. I think there’s more than one experiment being run, and we’re the guinea pigs.” 
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You stare at your reflection in the mirror as you run a comb through your damp hair. You look tired, the dark circles that have plagued your face for the last few weeks looking even darker now. It’s been a long day, so long it’s hard to believe it’s only been a matter of hours since you boarded the helicopter in London. 
Your new pack had made themselves scarce after dinner, leaving you to your own devices. You had been left alone after lunch too, and you had spent that time laying in bed, resting after the overwhelming scenting. 
You’d played back the last few hours in your mind. Leaving London in the helicopter, meeting your new Pack Alpha, Laswell leaving, meeting your new pack, the scenting. You had plenty to think about, to stress over, and you had been surprised when the knock came at your door for dinner. You were equally surprised to see Gaz and Soap waiting for you. 
You’d been sandwiched between them again as you walked to the mess. It was busier for dinner, and the eyes weren’t quite so quick to look away with the alphas missing. You know they have to be curious, with an omega on base following around two members of a SpecOps team, smelling like them. You know what they were probably thinking of you, what they were thinking your presence means. 
You’ve begun to understand Price’s rules a bit more. 
Price and Ghost had joined you as Soap said they would, coming in late from whatever they had been busy doing. You had been seated next to Soap, Ghost taking his other side while Price sat next to Gaz. It hadn’t gone unnoticed to you how close Soap and Ghost sat, and you remembered the look in Ghost’s eyes when Soap had approached to scent you. How his defensive stare had turned icy, threatening even, when he’d gotten close to you as if you were capable of hurting Soap. It had been a silent warning. If you tried anything, you’d have him to contend with. 
Ghost is territorial, more so than most alphas. You had seen it just a bit in Price, but only because you had been watching for it. Ghost was silent in his claim, but his gaze spoke of his territorialism. As you sat at the table with them, you slowly felt the stares lessen, the curious alphas and betas around you slowly turning away from your table until you were left in peace. You knew it was all thanks to a well-pointed glare from the second alpha at the table. 
They’d escorted you back to the barracks before disappearing again, leaving you alone. You’d opted for a shower to try and clear your head, exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs but your mind was racing too much to really get any rest. You haven’t been told what their normal schedules entail or even what they look like, but you expect an early morning tomorrow. Since Price had said at least one of them needed to escort you around base, that likely meant you were going to be constrained to their schedules. 
You know even when they’re not away, their days are probably full of training and briefings, much like yours had been for three months. They’re probably up early, earlier than you’d like to be, and then they go non-stop all day. 
You wonder if they ever get a break. 
Maybe this is a break for them. 
You sit on the edge of the bed after you finish your routine, eyeing the pillows and blankets stacked at the end. They’re military issue, not as soft or as plush as you might have preferred. This is your new normal, though. Comfort isn’t exactly going to be a high priority. 
Tears prick your eyes as you run your hand over the comforter. You know it’s the exhaustion, the stress of the day beginning to weigh on you. You’re worn out, and that’s causing a slip in the tight reins you keep on your mood. Omegas and alphas were both prone to being moody, and those who were unrestrained could lose control quickly. Alphas were quick to anger, while omegas could get depressed very easily. Exhaustion drives both to being grumpy, though alphas will descend into irritability and anger, while omegas will get whiny and weepy. 
You hate it, how easily you can be driven to cry. How easily you can lose control. It makes you feel weak and helpless, but that’s partially by design. It was supposed to be your pack’s job to fix that, to give you that support and take care of you. 
Except you don’t know your pack. 
What would they do if you approached them like this, all teary and needy? Would instinct take over and snap them into their roles? Or would they give you an awkward pat on the back and leave you to take care of yourself? Gaz would help you, you think. He had slipped into that role so easily during the scenting. Your fingers twitch on the bedspread, your mind telling you to seek him out, track him down, even if it’s only to catch a whiff of his scent again.  
Your phone screen lights up where it’s sitting on the nightstand, drawing your attention from the door. Kate had given you the phone just this morning before you left the hotel. It had her number on it, as well as your pack’s. You’d half expected to find messages already from them when you’d turned it on, but there had been none. They had kept that boundary of meeting in person first. 
You pick up the phone, checking the message. It’s from Price. 
Breakfast is at 0700. I’ll take you to see the Omega Specialist after. 
Seven o’clock. It’s not terribly early. You’d eaten around the same time at the institute. You’ll get to meet the Omega Specialist as well tomorrow. You’ve met plenty of them in your time as an omega, but something about the idea of having someone there who knows, who understands is comforting to you. 
You send a reply in acknowledgement for tomorrow’s plan before setting an alarm for tomorrow morning. There’s an uneasy feeling under your skin, a tickling in the back of your mind that you can’t seem to relax. Your eyes are drawn to the desk where the shirts still sit, and before you know it you’re moving to the desk, letting your fingers trail over each one. 
You grab Price’s shirt, taking it back to your bed. You curl up with your back facing the door, holding the shirt against your chest, letting the scent of tobacco smoke and whiskey fill your nose. Silent tears slide down your cheeks, your face pressing into the pillow to muffle your sobs. 
As you try to muffle your tears, you miss the sound of boots pausing in front of your door, the person on the other side standing there for a moment before continuing down the hall. 
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You let out a groan as your alarm pulls you from sleep. You had drifted in and out for a few hours before finally managing to get a couple precious hours of sleep. You’d woken when the others got up. You knew they were trying to be quiet but you had heard them shuffling around, talking quietly amongst each other. You’re normally a fairly deep sleeper, but in a new place you always struggle. 
A new place surrounded by almost complete strangers. 
You turn off your alarm, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. They’re burning a bit, the exhaustion still weighing heavy on your shoulders. You pad to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face to try and make yourself at least look more alive than you feel. The last thing you need is them getting worried about you. That’s attention you’re not sure you want right now. 
You blink sleepily at your closet, trying to decide what to wear. Were you allowed to wear anything? You didn’t have much besides the basics, since the only thing you had been allowed to wear at the institute was its uniform and the clothes they provided. Then when you were with the CIA, they had provided clothes for you to wear as well. The things you have now had been bought by Kate before you left D.C. 
Everyone on base wore similar variants of the same uniform. You’re not military, though, so you don’t think those rules apply to you. No one had said anything about your state of dress yesterday. You opt for comfort, knowing you’d likely find out soon if you were going to be forced to dress differently too. 
You’re tying your shoes when the knock sounds on your door. You had heard the others moving around, footsteps in the hallway, opening and closing doors, quiet voices talking and Soap laughing at something. You know it’s one of them, yet the nervous tickle at the back of your head is back. 
Soap is leaning casually against your doorframe when you open the door. His face lights up in a smile as he sees you. “Morning, bonny. Sleep alright?” 
“Yeah.” You shrug. “Tossed and turned for a while.” 
“We didne keep ye up did we?” He asks, his smile faltering just a bit. 
You shake your head. “No, I never sleep well the first few nights in a new place.” 
“Well, our beds are always open if ye need something more comfortable.” He winks at you playfully. 
Your face warms at his words, the double meaning not lost on you. You were right, Soap was going to be the one to push your boundaries the most. 
Gaz elbows him in the ribs as he passes. “She’s been here a day, mate, don’t go scaring her off now.” He leans on the other side of your doorframe, giving you a smile. “Morning.” 
“Morning.” You say, your face still warm from Soap’s teasing. 
“You hungry?” Gaz asks. 
You nod. You do feel hungry this morning, likely a side effect from your emotional night last night. You step out of your room, the two betas stepping back to give you space as you close the door behind you. Ghost is leaning against the wall next to his door, his eyes watching with the typical cautious disinterest that seemed to be his default setting. 
Gaz and Soap sandwich you between them again, close enough their arms brush yours as you walk. It was almost as if they could sense your inner turmoil, the neediness still tugging at the back of your mind. If Ghost hadn’t been trailing the three of you, you might have been tempted to give in and grip their sleeves, or slip your hands into theirs. How would Ghost respond to such a bold move? The mental image of your body flying through the air as he punted you into next week almost makes you laugh. 
Price is already seated at a table frowning at his phone over a cup of coffee. Gaz and Soap load up your tray for you, something you’re getting used to rather quickly. It was expected from the alphas, or at least Price, to coddle you a bit, but it seemed the betas were more than happy to get in on it as well. 
The thought makes something flutter in your chest. 
You’re seated between Gaz and Price again once you reach the table, Price greeting you with a tired smile. “Morning. Sleep alright?” 
“Not really.” You say honestly. “New place and all. I’ll settle in eventually.” 
“Maybe the Omega Specialist can give you some ideas to help.” He glances at his watch before looking at you as you spoon a heaping spoonful of porridge into your mouth. “Take your time. We have until 8.” 
You listen to the conversation at the table as you eat, Gaz and Soap talking about a football game that’s on tonight. You feel eyes on you, your skin prickling a bit. You glance up, half expecting Ghost to be glowering at you again, but his gaze is focused on his eggs. You cast a quick glance around the mess, turning slightly to look behind you. 
Three tables over, you find the gaze of some soldier focused on you. You haven’t paid much attention to anyone else on the base, but then again you haven’t had much time or reason to yet. You can’t read the expression on his face as he stares at you, but you feel a shiver run down your spine as your eyes meet his. 
He stares at you for a few seconds before his gaze moves slightly past you, quickly dropping back to his plate. You turn around, finding Ghost staring just past your head. His eyes are narrowed, his scent coming off stronger than it had been. You can practically see his hackles raised, the warning clear in the air. You feel the urge to curl in on yourself, the threatening aura radiating from him makes you want to cower. 
It doesn't go unnoticed by those at the table either. 
“Easy, Ghost.” Price says calmly, Gaz turning to follow his line of sight. 
“Bloody wanker.” Ghost grumbles before rising from the table. 
You turn back around, but the soldier that had been staring at you is gone. 
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You nervously pick at your sweatshirt sleeves as you sit in the plastic chair next to Price. You’re still on edge a bit from what happened at breakfast. It wasn’t so much being stared at that bothered you. After now three meals in the mess, you’ve almost come to expect it. It’s Ghost’s reaction that has your mind still reeling. 
“I’ve always hated the medical center.” Price says with a sigh as he leans his head back against the wall. “It smells too sterile. Makes my nose burn. Reminds me of too many close calls.” 
His words jar you a bit. You hadn’t even thought about that aspect of his job. He’s used to getting shot at, to getting into fights, running head first into danger that would send most running the other way. You wonder how many times he’s been the one with the close call, and how many others he’s had to watch have their own. 
You wonder how many times he’s had to make that trip to tell someone’s family. 
You’re pulled from your thoughts as the door across from you opens. Price pushes himself to his feet, and you follow as a kind looking woman steps out. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. You don’t have anything against male Omega Specialists, but you were already surrounded by men. Sure you have Kate, but she’s half a world away. 
She’s tall, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Despite being a doctor she’s dressed casually, no white coat or gloves to be seen. Her eyes are light green and crease in the corners when she smiles. 
“Hello, I’m Dr. Keller.” She introduces herself, shaking Price’s hand. 
American. You think, silently breathing another sigh of relief. Kate really had pulled some strings with this one. 
“Captain John Price.” He says. 
You introduce yourself when she turns to you, shaking your hand. Her voice is soft and gentle, the scent of beta coming off her in waves. 
“Come on in,” She says, leading you into the office. “Sit anywhere you like. Make yourselves comfortable.” 
Her office isn’t what you expected either. Instead of the harsh fluorescents, the lighting is softer, warmer. There’s paintings and posters all over the walls, along with several plants. There’s a desk covered in books and paperwork in one corner and a bookshelf with several books packed into it in the other. There’s a couch on one wall, and a couple plush looking chairs on the other. 
You move to one of the chairs, sinking down onto it. It envelops you in softness, and you feel as if you might sink into it and never be able to get out. After a day of hard plastic and stiff blankets, it nearly makes you weep. 
Price takes the chair next to you, Dr. Keller sitting on the couch across from you. The office smells good, a light, neutral scent in the air aside from the pure almondy scent of beta. 
“Alright,” She says, holding a tablet and a stack of files in her lap. “I always like to start by introducing myself and telling you a bit about me, then we’ll get into the important stuff.” 
She jumps into telling you about herself. Where she grew up: California. Where she studied: UC Berkeley. What institute she did her residency at: West Coast Training Academy. Where she worked last before Kate called her in: some poor inner city institute in LA. 
“Now, on to the more important stuff.” She says, turning on the tablet. “I got your medical records yesterday. You’re quite the healthy girl.” 
“Yes ma'am. I have good genes. That’s what my mom used to say.” You respond. 
Dr. Keller smiles. “Hardly even been sick. Your heats are all normal, too, correct?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” You say. “Except for a three month stretch two years ago.” 
“Yes, the heat sickness epidemic that hit America.” She says. 
You nod. “FIOT locked down completely and everyone was supposed to quarantine, but I heard a rumor that it was one of the beta food workers. She snuck out to see her alpha boyfriend and brought it in with her. We only think it was her because she disappeared not long after the first omega got sick.” 
Dr. Keller hums. “I know not everyone was so willing to take it seriously. You made a full recovery, though. No lasting side effects, I’m sure thanks to the state of the art medical facilities that FIOT keeps.” 
“Yes, ma’am. We were lucky it was just a mild case.” 
“That is lucky.” She flips through something on the tablet. “Your lab results all look phenomenal. I like to do checkups monthly, just to ensure everything is working as it should. I know the CIA gave you quite the cocktail of vaccines while you were with them.” She turns her gaze to Price. “Captain Price, I’ve sent in a request for your team’s vaccination records as well. I’m sure you’ve had everything under the sun, but I’d like to ensure there’s no risk of any accidental exposures.” 
“I don’t see a problem with that.” Price says. “If RAMC gives you any trouble, just let me know. I’ll get them for you myself.” 
“Thank you, Captain.” She says. “One last bit in this part and then we can move on. I see FIOT issued an implant before you left, as is standard practice.” 
You nod. “Yes, ma’am.” 
“Good. You’ve had more than enough time for it to take effect so we won’t have to worry about any accidental slip ups during your next heat.” 
Your cheeks warm at her words a bit. You’ve been trying to avoid thinking about that inevitable side of things. 
“And your next heat is roughly six weeks away.” She says, looking at the calendar. “Don't be surprised if it comes a little earlier now that you’re being exposed to alphas again.” 
Your stomach twists nervously at that thought. It was common for heats to be triggered early after exposure to alphas, especially after such a prolonged period without exposure to them. It wasn’t likely to start tomorrow, but you knew it could jump a week or two due to the natural pheromones alphas put off, and the instinctual call for the alpha/omega bond. 
“You’re planning for the claiming to take place during the heat?” Dr. Keller asks. 
“Yes, that’s the plan.” Price says. 
“That is the most natural time for it.” Dr. Keller says. “Of course, it is always up to omega preference in the end.” 
You don’t miss the way her eyes dart to you for a second. 
“Now that that’s over with,” She says, putting the tablet to the side. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to do this next part with just the two of us.” 
A beat of silence passes before you realize she’s asking you. Her eyes are on you, and so are Price’s. She’s asking you. She’s asking you what you want. 
“I-I guess...yeah.” You stutter over your words, not quite sure how to answer. Is there a wrong answer? Would Price be upset if you said yes? Would Dr. Keller be upset if you said no? Your eyes turn to Price, trying to gauge his reaction. 
“It’s up to you.” He says softly. “We’re here for you.” 
You sit up a little straighter at his words, nodding your head. “Y-Yes. That’s okay.” 
Price pushes himself to stand up. “I’ll be right outside.” 
The air inside the room seems to lighten as he leaves, Dr. Keller reclining back on the couch as the door clicks shut. She pulls out a stack of papers and a pen before she looks at you. Your palms are sweating, and you’re starting to think you’d like the chair to swallow you whole. 
“This next part can feel a bit personal, but I just want you to know that everything you say in here is as confidential as you’d like it to be. Captain Price is right. I am an Omega Specialist, I’m here for you. I’m not just a doctor, I’m here to help you in all aspects of being an omega. I know FIOT teaches a lot, mainly obedience and compliance. I want to make it clear that you can be honest with me.” She holds up the stack of papers. “No one is going to see these papers but me, alright?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” You nod. 
“You don’t have to be so formal with me.” She smiles. “You can call me Dr. Keller, or Doc. You could even call me an evil bitch if you want, it won’t phase me any.” 
You can’t help the small smile that forms on your face. 
“I’ve got some questions I’d like to ask you. They’re a sort of tracker to measure how well you’re settling in and bonding with your new pack. I’d like to meet once a week until your next heat just to see how well you’re settling in. After that we can meet as often as you’d like. Sound good?” 
You nod in approval. It sounds like a lot, but you also know you’re going to have a lot of downtime, even with your pack on base. 
“Alright, let’s get started. How are you settling in? I know it’s barely been a day, but I want to know how you feel here.” 
Your heart begins to pound in your chest. How do you feel here? How do you feel after being pulled from the institute and taken to a training facility where you found out you’d be moving halfway across the world to be a military pack’s omega. 
This wasn’t what you had expected when you reached the age where you became an available omega. Most omegas at FIOT came from rich, powerful, important families and your purpose there was to be groomed into the perfect omega to return right back to that world. 
You thought you would be chosen quickly. You had expected it. With your scores and your high ratings and your status, you were what most alphas dreamed of. Yet, the years had passed and though there was some interest, nothing had ever come of it. You weren’t alone in it. There were others like you, those who excelled at being an omega, but then seemed to stall in the selection once they came of age. 
Of course, now that you look back on it, you can’t help but think it might have been done on purpose. The Omega Initiative was new, you had been told during your first briefing explaining why you were taken to a remote building somewhere outside of D.C. and greeted not by your new pack, but swathes of CIA agents. Military packs were nothing new, but they wanted to utilize the naturally formed packs and make them stronger and more stable by adding in omegas. 
Only highly skilled omegas were considered for the program, but of course you had no say in whether you were going to partake or not. They chose the omegas and they decided where you would end up. 
It wasn’t that dissimilar from being chosen from an Institute. At FIOT there was a screening process packs had to go through to be determined eligible to have access to omega files. Then the pack would have to send a neutral emissary, usually a beta, to meet the omegas in person and choose on behalf of the alpha. Most institutes don’t have that strenuous of a process, and some don’t have a process at all. In some, alphas themselves could walk in and choose an omega without even so much as a background check. 
Omegas never got a say. As soon as you were handed over to an institute, the ability to choose was taken from you. Whoever your caretakers were as a pup signed over their rights to you and the institute became your legal guardian. They dictated your life up until you joined a new pack. 
You had hoped it would be someone rich. If nothing else, you’d get to live a cushy life and you’d never have to worry about anything. When they told you what was really going to happen to you, you had almost cried. You did cry, late at night curled up in your bunk after hours of training and briefings. 
Kate picked you for this pack specifically because she knew them and she knew you could handle them and their world. 
Maybe if you had been worse at being an omega, things would have been better for you. 
Or maybe they would have been worse. 
“It’s...different.” You finally say, picking at your sleeves again. “But in a lot of ways, it’s similar to The Institute. It always takes me time to settle somewhere new.” 
“Me too.” Dr. Keller says, writing some things down. “And with the time change, it’s just so much harder. I feel like I should be in bed right now, but it’s 8 AM. Have you started nesting?” 
You shake your head. “No. I don’t even feel the urge to.” 
“That’s fine.” She says, writing something else down. “In truth, I’d be more concerned if you were.” 
Your eyebrows raise a bit. “Why?” 
“During an adjustment period for an omega, especially in a new pack, there can be something that happens called false instincts. The sudden urge to nest, a drive to bond with pack members too soon, false heats. It’s usually brought on by a sudden change in environment, like when omegas are taken from a place where they’ve spent sometimes years with no exposure to alphas and are suddenly thrown into a space with a lot of alphas. It’s more common in larger packs where you have alphas, betas, and other omegas.” 
“Could it happen in smaller packs?” You ask. 
“It’s possible, though rare. It can cause some serious issues down the line when those instincts are actually supposed to begin to show up, like adjustment sickness. I’d say if you’re starting to feel the urge to nest or bond before the first week is up, then come talk to me, alright?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” You nod. 
She smiles, turning the page. “How far have you gotten with the bonding process?” 
“Just the scenting yesterday.” You answer. 
“And how did that go?” 
You pick at the loose thread on your sweatshirt. “Fine. It was...overwhelming.” 
“They can be.” Dr. Keller says. “The new members of your pack, how are you getting along with them?” 
“Fine, I guess.” You shrug. “I like Soap and Gaz. Price, he’s...he’s nice, and Ghost...” You trail off, not sure how to answer. If she’d asked before breakfast you might have said he doesn't like you. He doesn’t want you to be part of his pack, but after what happened at breakfast...
You can’t be sure he did it for you. He could have thought that soldier was staring at Soap or Gaz or even Price. He could have thought the soldier was staring at him and was annoyed with it. He had scared off the stares at every meal you’d eaten together, but how often did they get stared at? You couldn’t know if that was a daily occurrence and he was just growing sick of it. 
He could be annoyed with you because you’re drawing in the stares. 
“I don’t know what to think about him yet.” You answer. 
She writes something else down, going through a few more questions with you. How is your appetite? How are you sleeping? Are you taking care of your needs? Do you have any concerns? 
Before you know it the hour has passed and you’re walking out the door into the fluorescent, sterile hallway of the medical center. 
“Remember, you have my number. If you need anything, I’m here for you.” Dr. Keller says as you part ways. 
You walk with Price out of the medical center, glad to be out in the fresh air. It’s not particularly warm, and the sun is hidden behind a layer of clouds, but it’s better than the medical center. 
“What do you think?” Price asks as you follow him back to the barracks. 
“I think it went well.” You say, mind still reeling from an eventful morning. You’re beginning to feel your restless night. 
“Do you like Dr. Keller?” He asks, probing a bit. 
You nod. “Yes, sir. She’s nice.” 
“Good.” He says, opening the door to the barracks for you. “I have to leave to oversee training for the next few hours.” He glances at his watch. “One of us will come get you for lunch.” 
You nod. Of course you’d find yourself alone again between meals. You’re beginning to notice a pattern. “Yes, sir.” 
His hand is warm as it settles on your shoulder, squeezing gently. You’re surprised by the touch, as small as it is. Were they too fighting the urge to get close to you, like you had this morning? 
You can still feel the warmth of his hand even after it’s disappeared and he’s gone. You head for the rec room, deciding to avoid the constricting feeling of being shut in your room for the time being. 
The TV is on when you enter, but the room is empty, playing some morning talk show. You move to the bookshelf against the wall, letting your eyes scan the titles. There's a surprising lack of military-based books shoved into the packed shelf. Of course there's a handful of old manuals and handbooks, nothing that you're particularly concerned about needing to read. You let out a sigh, standing on your toes to reach a Brandon Sanderson novel. 
You look around the room but the remote for the TV seems to be missing, and it’s too high on the wall for you to reach the power button, so you leave it on, curling up on one corner of the couch as you begin to read. 
You’re not sure how much time has passed when something moves in your peripheral. The sun has come out briefly, shining in through the windows. You look up from the book, suddenly feeling very small under Ghost’s gaze. His eyes are narrowed as he stares down at you, a thousand things flashing through your mind. Are you in his spot? Is this his book? Had he come to the rec room hoping to be alone and here you are infringing in his space? 
“Come on.” He says, his voice rougher than it had been this morning. “Lunch.” 
He’s already turned and heading out the door as you scramble up, leaving the book on the coffee table as you hurry to catch up to him. His steps are quick and wide, and you find yourself having to almost speedwalk to keep up with him. 
Your thoughts are jumbled as you follow him out of the barracks and off towards the mess. Why would they send him to get you? Was he the only one available? Yesterday they had time before lunch to return to the barracks, or had that only been because of you? Or were they perhaps hoping this might offer a chance for the two of you to bond a bit? 
Or were they entirely blind to Ghost’s disinterest in your existence? 
Perhaps they were used to it. After so long together, perhaps they just thought it was normal. If you were brave enough to bring it up, would you get a “oh that’s just how he is” in response? 
You can’t see the others as you enter the mess, Ghost leading you to the line. He stands behind you like a hulking shadow, his scent covered by the smell of gunpowder and sweat. You fill your own tray for the first time, grabbing things that look appetizing. You’ll have to get used to it eventually, even though the others insisted on doing it for the time being. When they’re not here, you’ll have to do it yourself. 
Ghost leads you to an empty table, and you opt to sit across from him. You begin to eat, taking big bites to avoid the need for conversation, not that you really thought Ghost would strike up a conversation with you. Your eyes flicker around the room nervously, glancing over the entrances time and time again, waiting for the others to arrive. 
“Stop twitching. They’re on their way.” 
The words cut straight through you and you snap your head around to face Ghost. He’s got his mask pulled up to his nose, your eyes immediately drawn to the exposed pale skin. There’s light stubble on his chin. You remember how that had felt on your own skin when he’d scented you. He’s blonde, you think, or at least has light hair judging by the color of the stubble. There’s a scar on his chin, almost hidden by the stubble. 
Your face warms as you realize you’ve been caught in your nervous fretting. Of course, you should have known he would take notice. There’s not a lot they don’t notice, you think. Though, when your survival depends on noticing even the smallest detail of anything or anyone...
You jump as a tray is set down next to yours, your eyes snapping up to see Gaz with a smile on his face. You turn back to look at Ghost, his mask pulled back down but you see a slight shake to his shoulders for a second.
Was he...laughing at you? 
Your attention is drawn from him as Gaz takes a seat next to you, sitting close enough his arm is almost brushing yours. Price and Soap taking their usual spots as well. You’re beginning to pick up on the patterns that existed around them, and their own patterns. Perhaps that will make it easier for you to fit yourself into their lives. You knew from the start they weren’t going to change to fit you into their lives. They couldn’t. You were going to have to find a way to fit into their lives. 
Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, abnormally quiet as he watches you warily. He walks you to your door, leaning on the doorframe as you step inside. 
“You alright?” He asks, big brown eyes shining with worry as he looks you over. 
“Yeah.” You nod, shifting on your feet. “Just tired. I think I might take a nap.” 
He nods, and you’re sure he doesn't quite believe you, but he doesn’t press any. “Alright. Happy napping.” 
You close the door as he leaves, sinking down onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. It’s been a long day and it’s only lunch. Between the probing questions from Dr. Keller and the few minutes you had spent alone with Ghost you feel exhausted. It was good to know you weren’t entirely broken in your lack of nesting instincts, and perhaps your turmoil with belonging in this place wasn’t quite as abnormal as you thought. 
What to do about Ghost.
He’s said more words to you today than he did in the entirety of the previous day. In fact, you think today might be the first time he’s spoken to you at all. You know he doesn’t approve of you, and you’d go so far as to say he doesn’t like you. You can imagine he fought the hardest against you being added to the pack. They were fine without you. It didn’t take a genius to see that. 
You’re an outsider. A civilian. A risk. 
An unneeded disruption to their lives. 
You pull your phone out of your pocket, staring at the dark screen. You know Ghost might never accept you. He won’t want to claim you, he won’t mate you, but...perhaps you might just get him to tolerate you. 
You unlock your phone, sending a quick text to Kate. 
“Can you get a book for me?”
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You regret your decision momentarily as you step into the rec room. Gaz and Soap are lounged on the couch, beer bottles open on the coffee table. The TV is playing ads, their attention on each other. You almost feel as if you’re infringing upon a private moment as they laugh, half tempted to race back to your room and hide until your hunger draws you out or someone breaks down the door to get to you. 
“Hey!” Gaz’s face lights up when he sees you, Soap turning to look at you.
“Hey, bonny!” His face lights up with a smile. 
“Do you mind if I join you?” You ask, shifting nervously on your feet. 
“Not at all.” Gaz says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to him. “You want a beer?” 
You shake your head. “No thank you. Never could get past the taste.” 
Soap throws his head back as he laughs, slapping Gaz’s shoulder. “I keep tellin’ ye!” 
“Yet you keep drinking it!” Gaz attempts to defend himself. 
“Cause it’s th’ only thing we got!” Soap argues, leaning around Gaz to stare at you. “So, ye a football fan, bonny?” 
“Well, I watched the World Cup a couple times as a kid.” You say. “My household was more of an American football and baseball household. Two of my older brothers played soccer, though they never were very serious about it. Mostly just did it to fulfill my dad’s physical activity extracurricular requirement.” 
“What did you do to fulfill that requirement?” Gaz asks as he takes a sip of his beer. 
“Softball. I was...not good at it.” You laugh. “I could catch and throw, but I don’t think I hit the ball a single time I was at bat.” 
Both of them chuckle, turning back to the TV as the ad ends. “Don’t worry, we’ll turn you into a proper football fan yet.” Gaz says. 
You watch the game with them, and it doesn’t take you long to realize they’re rooting for opposing teams. They explain things to you here and there in between yelling at the TV and each other. Despite how loud they are, you find yourself relaxing further and further, the tension from the last two days easing away, even as the two betas yell at each other over a soccer game. 
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Gaz tenses for a second as he feels a sudden weight on his shoulder. He turns his head slightly, noticing you’ve fallen asleep, your head drooping onto his shoulder. His lips quirk up in a smile as he gently nudges Soap. 
“Wha?” Soap asks, turning to look at him. 
He jerks his head to the side, leaning back just slightly so Soap can see. A grin breaks out on the younger man’s face and he pulls out his phone. “Aww, look a’ that. Think we should wake ‘er and get ‘er tae bed?” 
“Nah.” Gaz says. “Let her sleep for now. She probably needs it.” 
You sleep soundly through overtime, Gaz not moving until the post game is over, letting you sleep as long as possible. He knows you have to be tired, after the last few days and the time difference. You looked tired today, with dark circles and droopy eyes. He hates to wake you, but he knows you can’t sleep on the couch. 
He nudges you gently, trying to rouse you. “Hey.” He nudges you again, your head finally lifting off his shoulder. 
You blink sleepily, rubbing at your eyes. You make a quiet sound in protest of being awake, eyes drooping closed again. 
“Come on, love.” He says, keeping you upright. “It’s time for bed.” 
You cover your yawn with your hand, blinking at him sleepily. “Bed?” You murmur sleepily, Gaz smiling softly at how adorable you are in this state. 
“Yeah, you’ll be more comfortable in bed.” He pushes himself to stand, hands on your arms to pull you up. 
You make another sound in protest, nearly falling against his chest when he gets you on your feet. He wraps an arm around you, letting you lean on him as he guides you back to bed, Soap cleaning up the mess they had made. 
You’re more awake once you get to your door, blinking up at him with bleary eyes. “‘S fun.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. “Should do that more often.” 
“You’re always welcome to join us.” He says. “Get some rest. You’ve had a long week.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Night, love.” 
He waits until your door is closed before heading back down the hallway towards the rec room, a small smile on his face. 
NEXT ->
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Taglist:
@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
(If you'd like to join the taglist, let me know!)
3K notes · View notes
maplesyrupsainz · 4 months
Text
˖⁺。˚⋆˙opposites attract | CL16˖⁺。˚⋆˙
pairing: charles leclerc x tattoo artist!reader y/n (she/her) x alexandra saint mleux
genre: social media au, polyamory
warnings: polyamory, some sexual innuendo
summary: in which no one actually believes your new partners could actually like you
a/n: LOVE this request i jus chose charles & alex coz i figured they r both sweet and tattooless LOL they dnt rly match y/n vibe hehe i luv it tysmmm
request!!!: reader is a tattoo artist of at least heavily tattooed. I’m talking big tattoos all over her body. I imagine that no one believes they could be together let alone be friends because it’s someone you totally wouldn’t expect to be with a driver and his girlfriend? I’m open for any driver x wag pair :))
my masterlist
fc: aussiedomxo on ig
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twitter ->
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instagram ->
yourusername 📍 monaco
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, yourbff, and others
yourusername so much fun in monaco this week – got to do some super cool tattoos among other things!
view all comments
user1 alex in the likes
user2 why would they be friends 💀
user3 we dont know them lol. be srs rn
user4 she's so cool
yourbff sooo cool
yourusername ilysm
user5 who's the man lol
user6 who is she???
user7 tattoo artist who's been seen out with alex
user8 who cares bro 😂
user9 idk ppl r so dramatic and nosy lol
alexandrasaintmleux me next! 🙋‍♀️
yourusername i could never mark that glorious skin of yours
alexandrasaintmleux not what you were saying last night .......
charles_leclerc 😂😂😂
user10 urmmm WHAT
user11 excuse me lol
twitter ->
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instagram ->
f1wagupdates
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liked by user12, yourusername, and others
f1wagupdates (your nationality) tattoo artist y/n y/l/n was spotted driving one of charles leclerc's cars this weekend in italy, following rumours of her newfound "friendship" with him and his girlfriend, alexandra saint mleux
tagged: yourusername
view all comments
user18 stop it hahahaha
user19 is this some elaborate prank
user20 not y/n liking this post lol
user21 i kind of love her
user22 threesome alert threesome alert
user23 our unbothered queen y/n
yourbff she looks good in red
liked by yourusername, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and others
user24 omg hello????!???!
yourusername posted a story
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, and others
user25 there's no way charles & alex like u covered in all that 💀
alexandrasaintmleux wow
yourusername i am not worthy of you
charles_leclerc my love 😻
yourusername meow
charles_leclerc oh stop it you
user26 me when i love women
user27 wow the tats r so cool
user28 charles & alex have rich prince and princess vibes & then there's y/n
user29 trashy tbh
alexandrasaintmleux posted a story
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, and others
charles_leclerc wow look at her 😻
liked by alexandrasaintmleux
francisca.cgomes love her!! bring her to a raceeee
alexandrasaintmleux all in good time 🤓
user30 omg y/n again??
user31 why are u always with her now
user32 where's charles!!!
user33 this pairing makes no sense
charles_leclerc
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, yourusername, and others
charles_leclerc home life lately
view all comments
user34 AHHHHH stop it
user35 omg wait what?
user36 WAS THREESOME ALERT THREESOME ALERT REAL???
user37 YESSSS F1 POLYAMORY
user38 maybe they're just friends??? everyone always wants ppl to be dating
user39 be fr...
alexandrasaintmleux our tattooed goddess 💘
charles_leclerc she is so majestic!
alexandrasaintmleux unbelievably beautiful
charles_leclerc oh, i believe it 😌
yourusername GUYS. stop it im blushing
user40 AHH NO WAYY
user41 where are the charlesalexyn deniers now
user42 omgg they are so mismatched but in the best ways possible
user43 i can't believe it's real omg
user44 literally i didnt believe it at first
yourusername im so lucky to know you guys! you know what they say, opposites attract 😉
charles_leclerc forever and always ❤️
alexandrasaintmleux our missing piece 🧩
THE END ❤️
1K notes · View notes
thelostconsultant · 8 days
Text
Instant dad - pilot
pairing: Oscar Piastri x ex!reader
summary: You have no choice but to tell Oscar he has a five years old son. Now he wants to be a part of his life to make things complicated...
note: A little warmup chapter. Oscar is in his early 30s, so yeah, there's a time jump.
[part 1]
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“We would like to meet Oliver’s father. His biological father,” the principal clarified as he glanced over at your boyfriend. You’d been together for three years, he had been by your five-year-old’s side for over half his life, why wasn’t he enough?
But he insisted on meeting him, saying if he was dead and you could prove it, or if your boyfriend was your husband, they would move on with the enrollment, but you had confirmed that you weren’t married and the biological father was alive, so now they wanted to have a chat with him. He didn’t even care about the tiny little detail that said father had absolutely no idea he had a child. What a bunch of morons.
In the evening, while your son was reading a book about cars in his bed with your boyfriend, you sat by the dining table with your phone in hand, trying to figure out what to do. This fancy private school was perfect, they knew how to handle intelligent kids like Oliver, and you wanted the best for him. You wanted to make sure he didn’t get bored, that he would get the kind of intellectual challenge in school that he needed.
At the age of five, he could read on his own just fine, he even learned some Spanish from your boyfriend, and he was a quick study in general. It was infuriating how he was a mini version of his father, from his intelligence to his looks, everything reminded you of him. And if you met F1 fans together, someone surely went, “He looks so much like Piastri at his age!” Sadly, that wasn’t a coincidence, and the poor kid picked up on the whole you-look-like-him thing and chose him as his favorite driver.
Sometimes you consider telling him. Oliver, not Oscar. God, there was no way you would ever tell him the truth. He had his own, certainly busy life and he probably didn’t need a child in it. Yes, you saw the photos, he was good with kids, but meeting one for a few minutes wasn’t the same as having your own. Your son on the other hand could find out when he got old enough to understand why you had left and went no contact with his father. That was over ten years away, of course, so you had time to figure out what to do. Until then, you made sure the few photos of you and Oscar were stored somewhere safe in case he wanted to see them when the time came.
Now you were cornered, your hand forced by that damn principal. You had no idea if he was still using that old social media profile of his, but you had to try. So, you took a deep breath and started a call, deep down hoping he wouldn’t answer. You weren’t ready to talk to him, not yet, but you had no choice. And then his face showed up on your screen, the sight bringing back memories you’d been trying to forget for years.
“Hey. Are you sure it’s me you wanted to call?” he asked, although there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
Nodding, you let out a sigh. “Hi. Yeah, um… I don’t even know where to start.”
“At the beginning?”
Silence followed his words, your brain in overdrive as it tried to find the best way to start. But maybe being straightforward was the right answer. “I have a son. He’s five,” you added, hoping the meaningful look you were sending his way could be seen over the screen.
After a few seconds of heavy silence, you could see the wheels turning in his head as he did some math. “Wait, five? We… That was a bit over five years ago. Could he…?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed. “He’s your son.”
His face was emotionless for a while as he tried to process the news, but this was nothing new, he was the king of hiding emotions. But then, just as you thought he would end the call, he let out a sigh. “Why now? What do you want from me? Money?” he asked, although you could tell he was unsure about this whole situation.
The fact he assumed you wanted money only made you angry. “It’s not your money I need. Hell, I don’t even want you to meet him,” you snapped. “The thing is, there’s this private school I want to send him to, and they have this stupid rule to have both parents present at a parental interview. Since my boyfriend and I never got married, they want to see the biological father. That’s all I want. A meeting with the principal.”
Oscar put up a finger as he bit on his lower lip, his eyes focusing on something behind his phone’s camera. “Let me get this straight. After all these years, you say I have a son, but I’m not allowed to meet him?” he then asked, looking back at you.
“Yeah.”
“One meeting,” he then stated, his voice serious. “You let me meet him once and I’ll talk to that principal.”
“Oscar, come on.”
“That’s the deal I can offer.”
You didn’t have a choice, you knew that. If he didn’t do it for Oliver, he would have to go to another school. Letting out a sigh of defeat, you nodded. “But we don’t tell him that you��re his father. He watches F1, and since he looks a lot like you, he decided that you’re his favorite driver. That’s all you’re gonna be, nothing more.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, I,” Oscar began hesitantly, and you could see as he sat down on his couch and looked up at the ceiling. “You just told me I had a son. What do you want from me, to forget it? I want to meet him. I want him to know who I am.”
“He’s five. If he finds out, he’ll want to see you again. He will want you to be a part of his life. I don’t want that.”
You could see he was uncertain about this. He probably understood that becoming his father would mean he would have to regularly visit the two of you, and even if you all kept it a secret, there was still the risk of the truth slipping out and making it into the headlines. “Is he anything like me?” he suddenly asked, his eyes softening as he watched you. 
A smile crept on your lips as you thought about this, because it was so painfully obvious to you that you couldn’t deny it, no matter how badly you wanted to do that. “He’s a highly intelligent little smartass, just like you. And his looks… A mini you, no doubt.”
Oscar nodded. “Then I want to be a part of his life. Let me spend time with him,” he asked, seeming relaxed. 
“Two hours.”
“No, I’ll stay for a week, and I want to see him every day,” he was quick to clarify. “I can look out for him while you’re at work.”
Whatever happened to the idea of meeting Oliver once? That’s not what you had just discussed, and now he was changing his demands? “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” was all you said in the end.
“You said it yourself, I’m his favorite driver,” he pointed out with a smug smile. “We’ll be fine.”
You were doing this only because of the school. You remembered what Oscar could be like; if he made up his mind about something, he definitely wasn’t about to let his plan go. Now he wanted a week with his son, and you knew that was the only way he would do what you needed from him. “All right. Can I send you the school’s number so you can make an appointment? I told them you travel a lot, so they’ll need to be flexible.”
“Sure, I’ll call them as soon as I can.” You thanked him, and were just about to say goodbye when he spoke up again. “Wait, can you send me a photo or a video?”
“Yeah, I have a few hundred of those,” you replied with a smile.
Oscar remained silent, but he let out a sigh and you knew something was on his mind, something he wanted to tell you. “I still have a hard time believing it, you know.”
“You seemed pretty confident when it came to getting to know him.”
“I wanted to use my chance to corner you,” he admitted. “But this? That I have a son? Hard to believe.”
“Well, he’s yours. You’ll understand it when you meet him,” you told him kindly. 
After you said goodbye, you went up to check on Oliver and your boyfriend, but by the time you got there, they were sleeping soundly with the open book resting on your son’s chest. With a smile, you took the book and leaned down to give both of them a soft kiss. You couldn’t help but wonder how your little family’s dynamics would change with Oscar’s presence. 
Well, it wasn’t really your son you were worried about, the main issue was your boyfriend. Oscar was a famous F1 driver, someone your son idolized, of course he felt threatened. You told him it would be okay, that you didn’t have feelings for him anymore, but he didn’t seem convinced. Maybe if they met and he saw you were indifferent, he would finally trust you a lot more. One can hope, right?
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The Meetup
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《Part 2 for Next Caller
《Pairings:College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader
《Summary: After your call with Eddie, you can't get him off your mind. You promised yourself to let your fears go and finally speak with him in person. Some things don't go as originally planned because Eddie just so happens to walk into your coffee shop.
《Warnings:fluff,smut. 90s!Eddie, a little tiny bit of dry humping, oral ( female & male receiving) dirty talk, pet names (good girl, sweetheart) phone sex, masturbation (male). Sex toys (fleshlight)
Word count: 7.7k
A/n: Please reblog like and leave a comment to show support. Not proofread ignore any mistakes you come across.
Disclaimer: Please read part one linked at the top to understand the rest of the story.
Mini series masterlist
18+ minors dni
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Almost a few days after the stunt, you pulled on the radio with Eddie it didn't take long before word got around on campus. It's all anyone could talk about they wanted to know who the mystery caller was, and Eddie seemed to be cornered more so than usual. As people surrounded him, he wished maybe one of them were you. Hiding amongst the crowd of people.
Anytime a woman called in, his assistant would jump out his skin. He knew he should have shut it down the moment it started, but he trusted Eddie. Now, anytime the phone rings, he instantly goes into a frenzied panic. Eddie just laughs at how over dramatic he was being. He knew if someone called in trying to pull the same stunt as you did, he'd turn them away. He's not gonna tell his assistant that, though. He likes how jumpy and absolutely horrified he gets when there is a female voice on the other end of the line.
You still listened in every show since that night. Almost every time someone called in, they would either want to do what you did or want to talk about you. One thing that pretty much kinda bothered you were some of the girls calling and pretending to be you. Sometimes, you felt like it was bait, and someone was just trying to get the real "Miss caller" to give away her true identity. Much like how tonight was going, if you were tired of it, you can only imagine how he must feel.
"Yeah hi its me calling you back." An unfamiliar female voice spoke.
"Nice try, you don't really sound anything like her, buh-bye." His voice etched with annoyance as he hung up on the fifth woman of the night.
"Anyone want to call in and talk about I' dunno sports?" He sounded absolutely over it.
"I'm fucking desperate over here."
He emitted a long sigh into the mic. "Can someone call in with an embarrassing or some shit?"
You begin to drown out the sound of him talking as he tries to move along the segment.
You felt bad you truly did for what was happening to him now. You don't regret choosing him to help you, but you wish the circumstances were a little different. You hope he didn't hate you for this. You don't think you could live with yourself if he did.
Eddie on the other hand couldn't get you off his mind. You infested it, and no matter how hard he tried to think of over things, you creeped your way back in. He dreamt of you, and every dream was the same. He could hear you speaking to him, but right when he got close enough to reveal who you were, he'd wake up.
He got absolutely chewed out by his boss that following day. His show was close to being taken off the air, but once they saw how much buzz it was getting, they decided against it. He was on thin ice, though, when it came to how raunchy his segment was allowed to get. The conversation made local news in your town, which created more concerns for you.
The thought of someone figuring out how to trace your call back to your home terrified you to no end. Could they even do something like that? You don't know and definitely don't want to find out. Eddie did make a promise to keep you anonymous, but that didn't mean everyone else who worked there did. You try to push the paranoia to the back of your mind and just put all of your focus on school and work. This whole situation should blow over shortly you hoped.
Even with all of the chaos at your campus right now, that still didn't persuade from wanting to go see him play Thursday. Which was perfect timing since your roommate was going out of town that same day. Leaving you to an empty home all to by yourself. Who knows, maybe you'd get lucky and take him home. It was wishful thinking on your part, but still, it could happen.
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Little did you know you didn't need to wait that long to see him after all. As you just rang up a customer's coffee order, he was next in line. He was too preoccupied looking at all the coffee options on the menu to see he's the next one to in line. You cleared your throat to get his attention and he looked right at you.
Your heart felt like it was in your throat when his eyes met yours. He looked very good today, making it much harder for you to focus. He had his hair pulled back and wore a oversized black corduroy button-up shirt with black ripped jeans. He gave an apologetic smile for holding you up.
"Uhhh, sorry, I really don't know what this shit means." He laughs, pointing back to the menu above.
Your mouth goes dry, and you try to play it cool.
"Well, what kind of coffee do you usually like?" You asked, trying to forget about who's standing before you. He's just some guy you kept reminding yourself.
He pressed his lips in a thin line, "Well, i usually don't drink coffee. if I did, I guess I wouldn't want it to taste like ass."
"So whatever you suggest."
You giggle and smile, turning to look at the menu as well. "I'd suggest maybe a vanilla latte. It's pretty basic."
"I'll take whatever you tell me to." He holds his hands up in surrender. "I'm putting all my faith in you."
"Wait a minute, are you implying im basic?" His mouth agape throwing a ringed hand over his heart pretending to be offended.
He was toying with you hoping to get you to laugh but instead you panicked.
Swallowing hard." N-no...its just a pretty standard drink to order."
"Hey, it's cool. I'm messing around." He reassured.
"Oh..um okay well then."
You try to regain your composure as your face begins to tingle.
"Okay, and what size? Small, medium, or large? " You asked him, trying to hide the fact that you're rapidly about to lose your mind.
"Oh, I need a large."
You nodded, putting in his order and ringing him up. He stands there a moment too long, and it's making you a little nervous. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
Your eyes grow wide, and you quickly turn to look away.
"Nope." You shook your head.
"You sure? You seem so familiar to me." He bends down on his elbows leaning on the counter. He's trying to examine your face to remember where he knows you from.
"We may have a had a class together at some point." You shrug.
"I mean yeah--but I don't know there is something else." He continued staring while you ran around behind the counter, putting away fresh croissant.
The longer it took for his latte to be finished, the more anxious you got. He wouldn't stop looking at you. You wanted to tell him it's rude to stare, but you don't. He kept trying to make small talk with you, which didn't help your nerves at all. You kept stumbling over your words or clearing your throat because it was getting dry.
You took a breath of fresh air when they finally called his order number. He took his coffee and waited around until you came back. "So, uhh, I don't know if this weird, but you wouldn't be apposed to going on a date with me?"
You blinked twice trying to figure out if you just heard him correctly.
"Come again?" You ask in disbelief.
"Oh, well, I was wondering if I could take you on a date?" He repeated as a small blush creeped along his cheeks.
"Yeah, sure. I mean, I'd love to." You tried to keep your cool, but on the inside, you were jumping for joy.
His smile grows ten times wider when he hears you accept his date. "Great, write down your address and phone number so we can keep in contact."
You nodded and ran to grab a pin and paper, giving him all of the information he needed. He also wrote down his number to give to you as well, just in case you needed to get in touch before your date.
"Cool, how's Friday sound?" He asks, taking the piece of paper you handed him. "Friday sounds great, actually."
"My names Eddie, by the way." He added motioning to himself.
He smiled again, taking a sip of coffee as he began heading for the door. He turns to look at you one last time before leaving. "I'll see you Friday, pretty girl."
"Thanks a latte." He joked, holding up his cup before finally exiting the coffee shop. His face scrunched up with embarrassment as he turned to leave. Why the fuck did I just say that? He thought to himself as he practically chugged down his drink, heading to his first lecture of the day.
You're standing still behind the counter, frozen in place. Did that really just happen? That fast? You started to think someone was pulling a prank on you. Maybe everyone did find out you were the caller and decided to mess with around. No, Eddie doesn't seem like the type of guy who would do something like that, you thought. You just couldn't get over how easy that was, a little too easy.
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The week went by way too fast for you, and the closer it got to your date, the more anxious you became. You wanted to tell him so badly it was you who called. Would he even still like you after that? He seemed just as eager to meet you as you wanted to meet him. Doesn't really matter now. You'd tell him eventually anyway. Especially if this date goes well.
You didn't see or hear from him too much during the days leading up to Friday. You figured he was very busy since he still was doing his show on the radio and playing with his band. On top of attending classes, he seemed like he didn't have much free time. Which is why you didn't cancel on him like you were probably going to. After you thought about it for a while, you realized he definitely was making the time to take you out.
Eddie called you a few times to check in and see if you were still willing to go out with him. He'd make small talk to ask how you were and if your classes were going well. He'd crack a joke or two, making you laugh easing your mind of any self doubt you had before.
Now that it was officially Friday evening, you quickly left work early to go home and get ready. He said he'd be come by eight o'clock to pick you up, giving you a few hours to decide what to wear. You searched through each article of clothing hating every single piece. You know deep down he doesn't care about what clothes you're wearing. He asked you out while you were in your work attire. With your coffee stained apron and dumb hat.
Still, you wanted to look nice for him, and you don't get out much as it is. So you opted for just a simple black dress. Dowsing yourself in a sweet perfume and putting on a pair of heels. You pray you don't end up falling and busting your ass in front of him tonight. You were shaved, plucked, and smelt of vanilla and spice.
You were just putting the last touches to your makeup on when you heard a knock at your front door. You did a last mirror check, making sure everything looked well put together. You take a long, deep breath and exhale before you go to open up for him.
When you opened the door to greet him, he was standing there with one hand in his pocket. While the other is holding a bouquet of flowers. He wore a black pullover sweater with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, revealing his tattooed arms. His dark curly hair loose around his shoulders, and he smelled like mint and tobacco. His smile widened when he saw you for the first time since your last meeting. His dimples on full display, and you couldn't help but melt a little. "You look beautiful."
"Thanks. You don't look too bad, either." You smile, stepping out to stand closer to him. "Nah, I just wanted to impress you."
He blushes, and this is the second time you've seen him do that. He gave a boyish smile and handed you the bouquet of flowers he picked. "These are for you, sweetheart."
"Thank you." You reached out to accept the flowers. "They're beautiful."
There is a moment where you both don't say a word and just stand there gazing at one another.
Eddie cleared his throat. "Shall we?"
You nodded, closing the door behind you and making your way to his van. He walked next to you with a hand on the small of your back. He moved past you quickly to open the door and help you get into the passenger seat. Eddie made his way to the driver side and hopped in no longer after you.
The drive to the restaurant was fairly quiet except for the music playing on Eddie's radio. He humed along, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel to the beat. You both steal glances here and there when the other isn't looking. Your heart beating a mile a minute.
Eddie seemed calm and collected, but on the inside, he felt just the same. Usually, he was pretty confident around women, but there was something about you that made his heart skip a beat. He doesn't know what it is that pulled him in so quickly. He's not complaining one bit either.
You finally see the restaurant up a head and sigh in relief. He pulled up and parked in the front. He made you wait there while he jumped out of the driver side to jog over to help open up your door. You took his hand and carefully got out while trying not to flash anyone in the process. You wish the dress you finally decided on wasn't so short.
You make your way inside where a hostess greets you both and guides you to a table in the far back. You sit across from one another while she handed you a menu to look over. A waitress soon comes by to ask what drinks you'd like, and you both settle on a Dr pepper.
She returned not too much longer to take your orders and set down your drinks. You and him seemed to be in sync tonight since the both of you ordered a burger with onion rings on the side. Once she took your order, she left, leaving you alone together again.
"So I'm gonna ask a boring question and say what do you enjoy doing for fun?" He playfully asked, taking a sip of his soda.
"Uh, well, I haven't been having much fun lately with work and school taking up my time." You confessed feeling a little embarrassed you don't live an exciting life you imagined he did.
"You don't hang out with friends or go out?" His brows furrowed.
You play around with a piece of paper on the table, avoiding his gaze. "Uh, well, I don't have that many friends here."
"I mostly just keep to myself and stay home a lot." You continued on.
He frowns. "Boyfriends?"
You shake your head, trying not to even think about any of your exes at a time like this.
"You know what? I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask about boyfriends while in the middle of a date." He gave an apologetic smile.
"Hope he doesn't mind sharing you for the night, though." He winked, making you laugh.
He seems to enjoy making you laugh when he notices you're uncomfortable or getting shy.
The waitress finally arrived back with your food, and you didn't hesitate to start eating immediately. He watched you with amusement and started eating right behind you. The longer you both talked, the more relaxed you became.
You were already familiar with him and found a form of comfort when listening to his show. But being alone with him felt different. You never thought this moment would come. You almost wanted to cry, thinking it was just some elaborate dream that you'd soon wake up from. The date was going amazing so far, and you never wanted it to end.
"So, um, how's your show going?" You ask him, not wanting to seem like he was the only one asking the questions.
"It's good..well actually I'm in some trouble, but they'll live. More people are listening in now, so I think the money will shut them up." He openly admited, shoving an onion ring in his mouth.
You raise an eyebrow "in trouble for what?"
You already knew but wanted to hear him say. You kept wondering what he thought about that phone call. Even if it might hurt your feelings, you were dying to know. Your curiosity always got the best of you.
He shakes his head. "Maybe I'll talk about it on our second date."
You giggle, finishing off the last bit of your dinner. "What do you like to do for fun?"
"Well, I play DnD when I have extra free time, I play with my band at the bar by campus." He frowned a little at the mention of his band.
"Sadly, we probably won't be playing much together here very soon." He adds.
Changing the subject quickly, not wanting to bring the mood down. "Girlfriends?"
"No girlfriends."
He eyed you up and down, grinning wide poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek. You swear you could see a little twinkle in his eye.
He leans forward, getting awfully close. " You almost ready to go?"
"Um sure, yeah." You respond a little sadly, not wanting the night to end so soon. He waves for the waitress to bring over the bill. Once he was done paying, you both got back in his vans.
The van ride back to your place wasn't as awkward as before, but there was something electric in the air. There is too much tension between the two of you. It felt like the silence was lingering until one of you decided to make the first move.
He pulls up in front of your home and helps you step out of the passenger side. Both of you walking up to your front door, not speaking. This was your chance to invite him in. You thought to yourself. "I had fun tonight."
"Yeah, me too." He smiled, putting his hands back in pockets.
You look up at him and whisper. " Do you want to come in?"
He paused for a moment, hoping he heard you correctly before answering. "Yeah, I'd love to come in."
You unlock the front door and take his hand, pulling him inside and guiding him to your bedroom.
The moment he was finally in his lips, crashed onto yours in a heated kiss. The kiss was sloppy and passionate as your tongues fought for dominance. Your lipstick smears on his mouth. He breaks away to move down your jaw and nip at your neck right under your ear. He nibbled and sucked at your tender skin, causing your knees to buckle. You grabbed onto his biceps, holding on tightly to keep your balance.
He stops to look at you in your eyes. "You wanna get undressed for me?"
You swallowed hard and nodded.
"Words, pretty girl." His voice is low and husky.
"Yes." You panted.
Eddie reaches around to unzip the back of your dress, letting it pool around your feet. He squates down his face mere inches from your heat. He looks up at you through his long lashes. He kisses your tummy right above the waistband of your panties before reaching to grab your ankle. He brought it forward to unclasp your heel. Your hands grip onto his shoulders, steadying yourself. He tosses the shoe to the side before moving to the next one and doing the same.
He stands up, reaching around your back again, unhooking your bra, and letting it fall to the floor, exposing your breasts. Your nipples harden in the cool air of your bedroom. You watch him as he takes his shirt off, exposing his bare chest to you. You notice tattoos you've never seen before. One of a faded demon on his peck and a black widow right under his clavicle. "Be a good girl and lay back on the bed."
You hesitate for a moment as your mind is already feeling hazy. You turned to slowly make your way up the bed, laying back against your pillows. You watch as he took his boots off and unbuckeld his jeans, letting them hang low on his hips. He seductively crawls his way up until he is hovering above you.
You push on his chest. "Umm....I don't think it's a good idea if we have sex."
He sit back on his knees. "Want me to leave?"
"No, we can do other stuff. I'm just not ready to do that." You confessed.
"Hey, we don't have to do anything you don't want to." He reassured you, bringing a hand to gently cup your cheek.
You let out a shakey breath, feeling a little more comfortable . You were worried he would be mad at you, but he wasn't.
"If you don't like anything I'm doing, don't be afraid to tell me,okay?" He's being sincere, you can tell. He wanted you to feel safe with him.
You nodded again. "Okay, i will."
"Good." He smiled and leaned down to give you another kiss to your lips.
He brought his hips against yours grinding his hard cock against your core. You moan in his mouth when his cock applies pressure to your clit over your panties. He pushes against you harder, causing him to grunt. He moved to lay by your side, pressing his front right up against you. His fingers dance and play with the waistband of your panties. You can feel his prominent buldge pressing against your outer thigh. His calloused fingers slowly slips past the delicate lace. You can feel him brushing past your clit. He carefully glides his middle finger in between your wet fold, collecting your slick on his finger. Ignoring your aching bud in the process.
"Fuck you're so wet." He murmured against your mouth.
He pushes one finger inside your entrance, pumping it agonizingly slow. Your head falls back, giving him the perfect opportunity to attack your neck. He nips and sucks on the skin by your ear. Biting, licking, and sucking while his finger is knuckle deep in your pussy. He adds another stretching you open around his thick fingers. His thumb pressing firmly on your clit. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out gasp.
"Think of my cock pretty girl." He whispered curving his fingers upward.
"Mmm!, s-so good." You whimper.
That's all you could respond with your mind completely gone. All you could do was focus on how he seemed determined to make you feel good. You feel him smile against your neck when where his lips were leaving feather like kisses all over. You clench around him as his fingers start working on that sweet spot on your walls.
"F-fuck." You let out a strangled moan bucking your hips.
He grinds his cock against your thigh. "Feel that?"
"Feel how hard I am for you?"
You look up at him with big doe eyes."y-yes I can feel you."
His picks up the pace, his fingers plunging in and out, making your head spin. Your pussy wet and loud taking his middle and ring finger. The tightness in your core building with each pump of fingers. Your moans getting more pornographic. His warm breath on your neck making you squirm.
"You're such a messy girl. My hand is getting soaked." He purrs in your ear.
He ruts harder against your thigh, violently rocking your bed.
"Can I taste you?" He rasped.
You let out groan. "Please"
You swallow hard as your heart feels like it's beating out of your chest. You're already breathless. A small frown forms on your face when you feel his thick fingers leaving from inside of you.
"Ah ah, no pouting." He wiggled his index finger at you playfully.
No one has ever done this to you before. None of your exes cared about your pleasure they only wanted to get themselves off and then leave you to handle the rest. Eddie was the first man to help you cum and now he's going to be the first man to taste you. All of your ex boyfriends were selfish lovers. Which brought on so many insecurities you've been working hard to overcome. There was a part of you that didn't want him to keep going, but there was another part that was telling you to let go and enjoy it.
He gave you one last deep kiss on your lips before moving and kissing his way down right above your sex. He looked up at you again, and his pupils were blown out with lust. He never breaks eye contact as he slowly drags your panties down your legs. He sits up higher for a moment, admiring your naked body spread out before him. You went to close your legs, but he stopped you. "Let me see you."
Thats all you needed to hear before spreading them wider for him.
He cursed under his breath, closing his eyes, trying not to attack the moment you show yourself to him. "I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good."
He dips down again, his face so close to your pussy now. He hums in approval when he sees how soaked you are for him. Your slick dripping down to the curve of your ass. He kisses the inside of your thighs, testing to see how much you can take before you're begging him for more. It doesn't take long before you're already impatient. He nips and sucks at the soft skin, making you buck up against his face. His nose nudging your throbbing clit.
"Patience, sweetheart." He laughed.
You buck up again, wanting desperately wanting his mouth.
Without warning, you feel his warm tongue licking a long strip between your wet folds. You sucked in a breath, never having felt something like this before. "OOh!,Eddie." You mewled
He pulls you down hard against his face, grunting against you. He sucks and laps at your folds, letting your slick cover his face. You grind against his mouth, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your legs go to squeeze around his head, but his strong hands hold them in place. He takes his tongue to flick across your clit making you wriggle. His mouth attaches to your sensitive bud, and he sucks on it softly. You went to push his head away as the sensation is too much. He removed his mouth, checking see to see if you're okay. "You okay?"
"Why'd you stop?" You whined.
He smiled before reattaching his plump lips to your clit slurping and flicking his tongue over it. He watches as you writhe above him. His eyes never left you as he almost seemed mesmerized by the sight before him. You've never felt this desired by anyone before. Your hips bucking as you grind on his face as he begins sucking harder on your aching clit.
You grip the blankets beneath you. "i-im getting close."
His removes a hand from one of your thighs and carefully pushes one finger inside your entrance. You grab and pull on his hair, making him grunt against you. He adds another finger, curving them upwards to stroke that sweet spot on your walls.
Removing his mouth for a moment "Yeah is my good girl gonna cum?" He asked quickly reattaching his lips to your sore clit. Your backing arching off the bed as you pull on his hair some more.
Your walls pulsating around him as his fingers pump in out of you fast. His mouth sucking on your clit harshly as his fingers plunge deep inside your pussy. The wet noises his mouth is making as his tastes you, mixed with the squelching of your pussy fill the room.
He's lapping away at you, getting lost in your taste, driving you absolutely wild.
"Mmphf! Don't stop." You begged him.
You feel that all too familiar tightness building again, and you clench around his fingers. Your legs are twitcing and trembling. You're breathing harder than before. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm washes over you fast, leaving your body to shake. Eddies mouth never letting go of your clit. While his skilled fingers work on your pussy helping you ride out your orgasm.
He removes his mouth and fingers from you tenderly, not wanting to hurt you in any kind of way. His face glistening with your slick and his lips look swollen. He moves to lay next to you on your bed. You're slowly coming down from your high. Your breathing evening out as you come to. You both lay there in silence for a few minutes.
"Can I taste you now?" Your voice sounding small as you asked.
"Fuck." He murmured under his breath.
"Yeah, you can taste me." He whispers back.
Moving to sit back between his legs, you reached to take off his pants off. He helped you by wiggling them down his legs and discarding them to the floor. You notice how painfully hard he is in his boxers, and you lick your lips. Hooking your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down. His his cock spring free hitting his belly button. The head an angry red leaking precum down his shaft. He hisses when the cool air hits sensitive his tip. Your eyes widened at the size of him. You now know he was telling the truth. He was big, and you don't know how you're gonna be able to fit all of him in your mouth.
He grabs it, giving it a few light strokes eagerly waiting for your mouth. Precum still dripping alongside it, getting on his hand.
"Don't be shy." His voice low and deep just like how he spoke to you that night on the radio. "I hope you'll let me be inside you one day."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? He bites his lip, waiting for your response.
"Yes." Your voice barely above a whisper.
His eyebrows raise, and a cocky grin spreads across his face. "You felt so tight taking my fingers. I can only imagine how you must feel when I'm spreading you open."
"Just thinking about you taking my cock. The little noises you'd make as you're begging for more."
He presses his thumb on the leaking slit his mouth forming an O shape at the pressure. The veins along his shaft are prominent from the amount of blood rushing to his cock.
"Making you cry because it feels so good." He's breathing heavier while eyeing you in front of him. He wants to get you worked up until you can't take it anymore. Teasing was his favorite part before anything. He didnt even have to touch anyone before he had them begging to be fucked in some type of way.
He kept going on. The way he was speaking to you brought you right back to the night you called him. You squeeze your thighs tightly together, desperate for any small amount of friction.
"Gonna think about that tight pussy when I'm cuming down your throat." His voice deep and seductive. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Hes thinking about all the ways he'd fuck you. Imagining what your pretty tits would look like with his cum is dripping down them. Filling you up with his cum and watching it dripping out after removing his cock.
Watching him stroke his cock as he thinks about fucking you makes your pussy flutter. You wonder what he must feel like. The feeling of him stretching you open. You're getting tired of him taunting you. You needed to taste him now.
You smacked his hand away, replacing it with your own, giving it a few more light strokes. You move your thumb to press down on his tip. He grunts and bangs his head back against your headboard. You bend down to give the head of his cock a quick peck. You remove your hand and spit into it as you grasp his thick shaft, rubbing it up and down lazily. His mouth hangs open as relaxes and enjoys what you're doing.
Moving your mouth closer, you kitten licked at his tip, tasting his precum. His thrusts his hips as you continue teasing him like he did to you earlier. You take the opportunity to pull away and spit directly on his cock earning you low groan deep from his chest. You begin to suck on the head of cock. Using your spit mixed with his precum as a lubricant to continue stroking his hard length with your hand.
Gliding your mouth down his length until he's hitting the back of your throat, making you gag a little. You removed your hand, resting them on his thighs. You try relaxing your throat while taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. He wasn't even all the way in, and he's already has you gagging. Tears leaking from your eyes smudging your mascara.
"Oh! fuck!, c-careful, sweetheart." He coaxed you.
Drool spilling down your chin as you try to take more of him in your throat. You attempt to keep him back there and focus on breathing from your nose. Sucking lightly on him, you pull him all the way out and swirl your tongue around his tip. "Hmm! your mouth feels so fucking good."
Your tongue wet and warm teasing the head of his cock. Eddie does everything in his power to not push you back down on his length.
He breathed heavily. "Shit! I-I not gonna last if you keep doing that."
Removing his cock from your mouth, creating a loud pop in his absence.
"you like it when I tease your cock eddie?"You asked in a sultry voice.
You wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.
"Look who's not so shy afterall." He taunted you
You don't know what has come over you suddenly, but having him here in your bed tonight gave you a boost of confidence you never knew you had.
Putting the head of his cock to your mouth sucking it firmly almost forcing him to answer. "Y-yeah I like...I like the way you're teasing me."
You slip his length back down as far he could go in your throat, swallowing around him.
Hearing him like that only spurred you on more. Sucking his cock a little harder than before. Your head bobbing up and down faster. Your other hand moves to cup his balls, and he jerks at the feeling. The sensation of you massaging his balls and your mouth working on his cock practically sends him into a coma of bliss. His abs flexing and his toes curl. His entire body glistened with sweat. "Shit i-im gonna fuck... I'm gonna cum."
"You're gonna make me cum." He panted above you.
With a few more pumps of your hand and mouth sucking harder on his length. You feel his cock twitch and he's shooting his cum deep down your throat. Some spilling out and leaked from the corners of your mouth. He moans out loud and holds your head down until he's finished. You tried to swallow as much of him as you could take. Your mouth not leaving until you're collecting every bit. " S-sweetheart, please."
You let him go with a long string of saliva connecting you to his cock, his cum dripping down your chin. You collect it on your fingertips, bringing it to your mouth, not wanting to waste a drop. Sucking your fingers clean enjoying the salty taste of his cum.
He goes limp as he comes down from his high. His eyes glossed over watching your every move as you lick his cum from your fingers.
You moved to lay back next to him as you wait to see if he will soon leave. His chest rose and fell calmly now, but his head was still foggy. You don't want him to go, but you understand if he does.
"Thank you for tonight" you turn to smile weakly at him.
"No problem." He snorted.
There is a long, drawn-out pause, and you decided it time to tell him your secret.
"Um, I have something to confess to you." You're nervous, and he can tell.
He sit up straight and looks over at you, concern etched on his face. "Yeah? "
"Well, umm, I was the one who called you that night.....on your show." You confessed, looking down, playing with your thumbs.
He blinked, taking in what you just said. Not really sure if he heard you right or if he's still a little dazed.
"Are-- are you serious? " He sounded a little harsh, but he didn't intend to. That night was all he could think about since it happened. You were all he could think about. He lost hours and hours of sleep coming up with different possible scenarios on how he would find you. Who you could possibly be.
"Yeah. Are you mad?" You look over at him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
His face softens immediately when he notices. "Are you kidding?"
"I've been thinking about you ever since." He sprang up on his knees with excitement scooting closer to you.
You wipe at your eyes and laugh when he takes your hands into his. The fear that was building up moments ago slowly fading away."Really?"
"Oh, you're definitely not getting rid of me now." He exclaimed.
"So, do you maybe want to go out again?" You shyly asked.
"Fuck yeah I do!" He celebrated clapping his his hands together.
You laughed at his excitement. Making you feel so much better now that you got that off your chest. No one has ever made you feel like this before. You felt like you've known him forever even though you just met in person. "Can I call you... like all the time?"
"Yes, absolutely you can." You giggle.
"Hope you don't mind late night ramblings and bad puns," He advised.
"I love bad puns."
He laid back down next, throwing an arm around you. The both of you stayed like that for the rest of the night. Staying up for hours laughing and telling each other stories about your life. You wish you and him didn't have to ever leave this bed.
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Another couple of days have passed, and you really haven't heard much again from him since your date. You were starting to think he was just saying all of that stuff because he thought it was something you wanted to hear. You tried not to think like that and just chalked it up to him being extremely busy because he was.
He did talk about you a little bit on his show but never mentioned you were also the mystery caller everyone has been gossiping about. You listened in biting at your nails when he talked about going on a date with a cutie from the coffee shop across from campus.
Eddie never once talked about hooking up with you, and you're grateful for that. He didn't use your date as a way to have another story for his show. He genuinely wanted to take you out and have a nice time. He didn't hook up for a new story to keep his segment interesting. Most of the girls he was with actually asked him to talk about it. Otherwise, he never would have done it to begin with.
You sat on your bed feet dangling over the side, contemplating if you should just bite the bullet and call first. You don't wanna seem desperate, but you also really want to see him again. He agreed to go on another date with you. Since you haven't heard much else from him, you don't want to come off pushy.
Maybe you should call first? Let him know you're equally as interested in him.
You snatch up the phone and the little piece of paper he gave with his number on it. Putting in the digits and waiting for the dial tone to start ringing. You felt like you were waiting forever, but it's only been a few seconds. You were almost ready to hang up and pretend this never happened until you heard him answer.
"H-hello?" He panted into the phone.
He sounded like he was currently in the middle of something. What that something is you don't know yet.
"Hi, it's me....just wanted to call and check in with you." You spoke softly in the other end.
"Y-yeah, uhh, I'm doing good." He stumbled over his words.
He sounded out of breath, and now you're really hoping you didn't interrupt him. Especially if he has company at his place. The thought of that makes you feel a little sick. You're not dating him and barely even know him. You shouldn't feel this way even if he did have someone over. "I can let you go. You seem a little busy."
"Wait, don't hang up!" He exclaimed.
He ponders for a moment on how he can keep you on the other line.
"Wanna help me...with... something? " he asked with a nervous laugh.
You swallow hard before answering. "What do you need?"
You hear him curse under his breath in your ear. Low grunts can be heard, and it doesn't take long before you can figure out what's going on.
"W--wanna talk to you while I fuck this toy." He breathed heavy.
You go to lay back on your bed playing with the hem of your pajama shorts. You know what he wants you to do. Since he helped you out, you might as well do the same for him. It's only fair, right? The last time you did this, hundreds of people were listening. This time, it's just the two of you. Making the situation more intimate, but it also helps take the edge off.
Eddie was currently balls deep in his fleshlight when you called. He just got out of the shower hair still wet and sticking to his body. All day long, he kept thinking about you. He's been painfully hard and wanted to see if he could come over to your place again but didn't want to be so forward. He didn't want you to think he was using you to get off. He really really liked you and hoped there could be something more between the two of you. So he was going to do what he normally would and take of it himself. That was until you called him, and it sparked a little idea in his brain.
He was leaning back against a wall with one hand on a chair next to him, trying to keep his balance upright. Lube was all over his toy, leaking out onto the soft curls between his legs and balls. He glided the toy up and down his length at a steady pace trying not to cum so soon already. His mind races with vivid thoughts of you.
"What do you think about when you do that?" Your voice coming out so small in his ear.
He smiles to himself. "Well I--was thinking about you."
"Like, what exactly?" You played innocent.
Eddie knows what game you're playing, and he has no problem going along with it. He pulls his cock almost all the way out of the toy only to slam it back down hard causing him to groan loud. His legs almost giving out from under him. He pulled out the chair next to him and plopped down.
Biting his lip to stifle another moan.
"Thinkin' about you squeezing around me." He breathed heavily in your ear. "Wishing this was your pussy instead of some..F-fucking toy."
Sinking his cock back inside making a loud schlick noise you can faintly hear in the phone. Pumping his cock while his other hand runs along his abdomen. He's trying to balance the phone between his shoulder and cheek praying he doesnt drop it. His face and chest flushed a crimson red. He lets out a loud moan when he thrusts upward. "Ooh! Shit!"
"Did I feel good?" You purred into the phone.
"God yes--- so fucking tight. the way you hugged my fingers when i was knuckle deep inside you."
You squeeze your thighs together involuntarily, and you can feel a wetness pool in between your legs. You bite down on your lip hard listening as he fucks himself while talking about you. You want to touch yourself so badly. Your nipples hardening under the sheer thin material of your tank top.
Pumping his cock faster in the toy, lube splashing all over his pelvis and wrist dripping down onto the of floor. He's making a total mess and he doesn't care. He thinks about how messy he could make you.
You interrupt him from his thoughts
"What do you wanna do to me?" You whisper.
"Fuuuck, I wanna do the nastiest things to you." His voice ragged.
Moving the toy up and down his cock as he spoke in the phone, trying to keep It balanced as best he could.
He lets out whimper, "Wanna fill you up with my cum and clean it out of you with my tongue."
"W-wanna..fuuuck...wanna cum all over those pretty tits." He's panting and grunting louder in your ear.
....."Yeah?" You cooed.
"Make you cum in all sorts of ways you never even imagined you could."
He legs kick up, and his stomach tightens. He was getting close but didn't want this to end, not yet.
You're still lying in bed, looking up at your ceiling. You never thought you'd have this burst of confidence yet again, but it's different with him. You don't feel ashamed of anything. The way he's coming undone just by talking to you only made you never want to stop. You felt empowered.
There is a throbbing ache between your legs that you desperately want to take care of. You try to ignore it and put all of your focus on him. You wiggle around clenching up. Doing anything to ease that ache.
"Tell me what you think about you when you touch yourself." He breathed.
"You think of me?"
"Yeah," you muttered quietly.
"So tell me." He commanded gently.
You stammered. "I um, I think about what you would feel like inside me."
"Oh yeah?" His voice getting low.
Goosebumps prickle all over your skin when he does that voice. You squirm in your bed just thinking about that night he used it when he helped you cum over the phone. It was domineering and seductive.
"Mmhm, you're so big." You whimper.
"I don't think I could fit all of you."
"Fuuuck." He groans
"You wanna feel my cock struggling to stretch you open? Is that it?"
You whined into the phone. "Yes, I need it so bad Eddie."
His cock steadily plunging in out of his toy in a brutal pace. He's getting closer to his release, and the phone drops with a loud thud in your ear. His other hand moving to cup his balls mimicking how you massaged them. His hips thrusting up and all you can hear is the squelching sound his cock is making in the toy.
"Oooh shit!" He groaned louder. With a few more strokes and he's spilling his cum inside the toy. Still pumping his length, milking himself of every drop. His cum spilling out and coating his balls. He lays there in the chair, head falling back before realizing he dropped the phone. His head all foggy, and his vision is blury.
He went to get up, but his legs gave out, and he fell back down.
"Shit"
"Fuck"
You heard him cursing from afar. You laughed to yourself, knowing he probably had fallen down.
"Hang on!" He called out
He leans over and reaches out far to snatch up the phone off the floor. His breathing is ragged when he goes to talk. "I've never came that hard in my life."
Smacking a hand on his belly he changes the subject.
"Okay, so what were you originally calling me about? " He asked still panting in the phone.
"Umm, well, I wanted to see if you were still up for going out again....Maybe?" You closed your eyes, waiting for his response.
"Yeah, actually, you know my band is playing Wednesday. Why don't you come see us." He said matter of factly. Like you didn't just help him jerk off on the other line.
You don't understand how one minute he can say some of the most dirtiest things to you and the next be totally nonchalant. All you want to do now is hang up and take care of the ache between your legs.
"I'd love to!" You accept his offer excitement etched in your tone.
He lets out a laugh. "Great, it's a date."
Before you both go to hang up, he stops you.
..."Oh, and thank you for helping me this time." His tone sultry.
Your eyebrows shot up, and you gulp. "No problem--it was fun."
"Goodnight, Eddie." You said sweetly.
"Goodnight, sweetheart."
You both stay on the line, neither one wanting to be the first to hang up. Eventually, you had to hang up first since it seemed like he wasn't going to be the one to do it. You roll over on your side, trying to relax and ready yourself for sleep. Your mind racing with excitement that you're finally going to see him play.
Maybe after your date, Eddie can take you back to his place this time. The ache between your legs was not subsiding. You needed him, and after your date, you decided it was time to have him.
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cindyss · 4 months
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• - I WANT BOTH - •
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PAIRING(S): mattheo riddle x fem. reader x theodore nott
WARNING(S): jealousy, smut, threesome, praising.
SUMMARY: when theo, mattheo, and y/n get left alone in a party, the tension in the room becomes more tense and things escalate
A/N: inspired by challengers and that one scene ifykyk🫦
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as a new student here at hogwarts, this would be your first party. you get to the slytherin party in your black skirt and green top. paired with high black boots, you looked breathtaking. you made your way to your friends, pansy, astoria, daphne, blaise and enzo.
you got a few drinks down then got on the dancing floor. double fantasy playing by the weeknd, you sway and move your hips in rhythm. then after about an hour of dancing, blaise and enzo pull you aside and tell you they want you to meet some of their friends.
you approach their friend group consisted of a bleached blond haired guy, 2 brunettes, and one blondish- brownish haired figure. “guys meet y/n” blaise announces. you smile at them all and notice two of them, the blondish brownish haired guy, theo as enzo announced, and the slightly younger looking brunette, mattheo, checking you out.
just then, enzo and regulus leave you to get drinks, and draco and blaise disappear into the dance floor. now left with theodore and mattheo, the three of you stand in silence until mattheo speaks “you’re in 6th right?” “yess what about you?” you try keeping the conversation going. “we’re both in 7th” theodore speaks “and i believe we share a handful of classes together” “i think we do you reply”.
just then, stood in silence, both of the boys’ eyes never leave you, following your every move. “its getting pretty fucking noisy isnt it?” you scream. “yeah it is” says theo while mattheo just nods. “wanna go somewhere more quiet?” again from theo. you nod your head and the three of you make it up the stairs to one of the bedrooms.
since you were all very tired, you all kick off your shoes as you lie on the ground. you then speak for about 30 minutes as they tell you all about Hogwarts and how everything works. After some time, you get up and sit on the bed as you realize both boys’ eyes wouldn’t leave you. you tap on the bed next to you gesturing for them to come and sit next to you.
theo on your left, mattheo on your right, you turn to face mattheo, grabbing his face and pulling him in. your lips connect, his tongue finding his way to yours. his hand wraps around your thigh as the kiss deepens.
you then pull away to theodore whose eyes are full of lust. you get closer and connect your lips with the boy, his tongue immediately claiming dominance. this one was slower and hungrier, so you get on top of theo, straddling his lap. he moans into your mouth as you slowly grind on him.
you had been feeling the tension in the room for some time now so this was what you needed. mattheo, fighting the urge, trying not to touch you, watches the heated make out session between you and his best friend.
breaking the kiss for air, you remove your shirt making your tits bounce out. then, your remove your bra, making sure the boys’ eyes never leave your every move. still on theo’s lap, you push your hair back as mattheo sits on the floor between your legs.
mattheo begins sucking on your tit licking around your nipple, his other hand pleasuring the other tit. you throw your head back, to which theo uses to kiss your neck, nibbling and sucking on the skin. a good number of moans leaves your mouth as the two boys work together in sync to pleasure you.
then, mattheo begins removing your skirt and panties in one go to reveal your wet pussy. you earn a “holy shit” from mattheo who then slightly carries you so that theo can remove his pants then they switch turns where theo holds you until mattheo removes his own.
“which one do you want first?” theo asks hesitantly. “i want both” you admit. “ask and you shall receive” mattheo speaks. theo from the back enters you first, stretching you out. you spit on mattheo’s cock taking it in ur hands. “ur turn matt” you speak and mattheo’s cock fills you. cusses are shared in the room “fuckkk y/n ur so tight” mattheo speaks.
“ive never done this before god fuckkk” after around three minutes you finally adjust and the boys work in sync to get you to come. your orgasm immediately approaches you when theo begins kissing your neck, mattheo sucking on your tits. you throw your head back as theodore kisses you, mattheo playing with ur tits.
“think we can get another one out or her?” mattheo speaks as theo smirks nodding. they once again begin thrusting in and out of you, movements getting slower and sloppier as everyone became a whimpering and moaning mess. “you’re so good, taking both of us principessa oh myyyy..” theodore speaks.
mattheo was kissing your lips, his tongue shoved in ur mouth, while theodore was busy leaving love bites on your neck. then, mattheo and theodore’s’ lips somehow connect, getting into a heated make out session as their thrusts become deeper. your eyes roll back, either from how deep and sloppy the thrusts were, or the sight of the 2 boys making out.
that didnt matter as you were thrown off the edge and your orgasm came quick, making you scream as the other two boys’ cum shoots into you. they both pull out of you and the three of you lay on the bed. “that was fucking amazing,” mattheo spoke. “just what i needed” this, from theo. “thanks guys i really did enjoy that” you say.
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