#it was lovely and i had a great time catching up c:

[m-eltdown]

[icewindandboringhorror]

waow.. found a Beautiful Orb at the store today (giant ferrero rocher). I don't even want to crack into it and eat it.. I just want to hold it.. rotate it in my palm thoughtfully like I am an evil wizard who has just been delivered a Very Plot Significant magical gem and is scheming how to use it 

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Cheating Heart

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: Your feeling for John were wrong -- horribly wrong -- but when you see your current boyfriend in bed with another woman, what's to hold you back anymore? (18+)

Word Count: 20.8k

Warnings: Cheating, toxic relationship, angst, fluff, depictions of violence and gore in flashbacks, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smut, breeding kink, praise kink, Protective!Price, vulgar language, porn with an incredible amount of plot

A/N: Literally just supposed to be smut practice and I turned it into a novel lmfao. I should be getting back to requests after this.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You slap a hand onto Soap’s bicep as you slide past the Scot, laughing loudly. The C-17 was still whirring behind you, the engines rumbling and shaking the air over your heads like great waves. Soap had asked you to go out with everyone for drinks at a local bar here in your city, not a moment prior. He was being quite persistent about it.

“Ah, c’mon, Little Lady,” The mohawked man grumbles, jogging to catch up to your fast form. Shit, you really needed a shower – your pores were packed with blood and dirt, “It’s just a few minutes from Base! We’ll all get steamin’ in no time.”

 “Hell,” Your body aches, but there’s a promise of hot water and clean clothes in your Barracks, making your feet move over the tarmac faster. Showering after a tough deployment was better than sex, “I’d love to, man, but you know that Leon makes me homemade meals when I get back home. Sorry, but I hope I make up for it by saying I’d take a bar burger and a drink over his lasagna any day. That thing could kill a horse.” 

Soap chuckles, eyes sparkling, and you send him an inquiring glance, “Price’ll be out with us.”

Your lips thin, the M13 strapped over your back suddenly ten times heavier and digging into your shoulder blades. Inside your chest, your heart sparks to life.

“MacTavish…” You warn, eyes narrowing at the stocky male, “Careful where your words go – I have a boyfriend. Plus, idiot, whatever it is your implying is insanely against workplace policy.”

“Yeah, but that boyfriend of yours treats you like shite.”

“Hey!” Yelling, your eyebrows turn in with a glare, finger pointing at his chest, “That was uncalled for, Asshat.”

Frowning, you watch Soap’s hand go scratch at the back of his head as his optics dart away, grumbling, “I don’t think it was if I’m being honest. Not exactly a prime choice in a partner you’ve got there.” 

The two of you make it to the front doors of the Barracks building, and you huff in annoyance. You were quickly deciding that not even a shower would make you feel better if this conversation continued. It was bordering on too much for your tired brain, sinking needles into your heart and dripping poison. 

Soap wasn’t lying, of course, your boyfriend was a piece of work and everyone knew it. Not only did Leon get pissed when you had to go on deployments – which you didn’t have control over – but he had also made a habit of being a bitch when you came back lately. There was never a chance to relax anymore, and what was worse was that it hadn’t always been like that. Part of you had tried to empathize with him because it was probably hard for someone's significant other to be away most of the time.

Like that gives him an excuse, You think, face heating with resentment as you remember the last argument Leon had dragged you into.

It was the day before your current deployment began nearly four months ago. Leon had gotten angry that you weren’t able to tell him where you were being shipped off to, and, like usual, had made the last day you saw him pure hell. 

“Oh, so It’s my fault that I’m concerned?!” He was screaming at the top of his lungs, his voice bouncing off the ceiling, “I get it – I’m the problem for wanting you home and safe.”

“My job is important, Leon!” Attempting to keep your cool, you take deep breaths. Teeth nash against your bottom lip and rip it to pieces as you use the pain to call away from the tears stuck in the ducts of your eyes, “You’re acting like what I do doesn’t affect the world. I need to go, otherwise, bad people are–”

“Is that what you tell yourself? Fuck me, how goddamn stupid could you be?!”

Leon growls, sending you scathing glances as he begins to pace the living room.

“Now you’re just being rude,” You whisper, whipping at your cheeks and gathering teardrops on your sleeves, “You know I can’t control when John sends me out with him and 141! They’re my team!”

Mentioning your Captain was a mistake and you knew it just as John’s name came out of your mouth. Leon pauses – his body going very still.

“John,” He whispers, eyes lit with burning fire, “Since when have you started calling him by his first name?”

“Leon–” You tried to salvage the situation but it was already too late. Your boyfriend snarls out accusation after accusation.

“I knew it! You’re cheating on me–”

“No, I’m not!” Pleading with someone to listen can only get you so far, “We’re close because we're always together – just like with the rest of the boys!” Leon shakes his head, hands clenched at his sides and vibrating with rage. Loyalty meant so much to you, trying to imagine a world where you would physically go out and cheat on your boyfriend was like seeing a unicorn out on the street. Your feet take you closer to Leon as the tensions rise, “You’re not listening! Listen to me!”

“Why the hell should I listen to a fucking whore!?”

The memory leaves you tense, remembering for a moment the sound of a tossed lamp and the shattering that followed soon after as it hit the floor. It was silly, but that lamp that Leon had thrown in anger was a family heirloom; something immeasurably precious to you. It was the last object you had left from your Grandma. Now, the remains were probably stuffed in a garbage bag somewhere, but you wouldn’t know because you had left with your duffel bag and slept at Base. At the very least you could hope your Leon cut his fingers picking up the pieces of glass.  

You had thought that everyone hadn’t noticed anything wrong, but had been catching concerned glances when you went into the cafeteria with thick bags under your eyes the next day; hair tangled and matted from your fingers.

Price had brought you outside, only pausing slightly before laying a heavy hand on your arm and squeezing. The man had bent slightly to look you in the eyes, head tilting so his hat blocked the sun from your eyes. 

“Love?” His eyes had been warm, creased with concern around the edges – an emotion you never received from Leon. When you just stared at your Captain, he hummed in the back of his throat, “You alright down there?”

Before you could do anything you might regret, you shook off his grip and disappeared back into the cafeteria. You didn’t eat that day and the next you were off on deployment.

“--soon?”

You blink, noticing Soap had begun walking ahead of you, his gear clinking.

“What?” You ask dumbly, “Sorry, I spaced out.”

Soap smirks, looking at you strangely, “I said I’ll see ya soon…hopefully out with the rest of us tonight?” He raises an eyebrow expectantly with a grin and you force out a half-assed huff. Trying to mask the unease in your blood. 

You had been gone four months instead of the intended three with Soap out in Russia on a Black Op, fighting back in a war that no one would ever hear of. Distinctly, you wondered if John was mad at you for how you acted toward him before you left.

“No promises, Suds,” Striding down the hallway you take the turn on the right leading to the women’s barracks, your back turned as Soap continues to subtly plead to you. 

If you took the time to look into it, you would have realized that the man was concerned for you; his thought process was to keep you away from Leon for as long as he could so you might come to your senses.

“I’ll see you at 0900, then! Don’t keep everyone waiting, yeah? Been too long since you’ve been out with the rest of us!” 

His voice falls away as you open the door to the joint female changing room and showers. Only when the hum of the air conditioning overhead blocks out everything else do you speak.

“You’re nothing if not persistent, MacTavish,” Putting your palms into your eyes, you press until you see stars and take a deep breath. 

Filling your lungs you hold the air trapped and begin to count to five, letting the tension in your shoulders leave as you breathe out. The room was empty of anyone else, white-walled, and tiled floors with rows of metal lockers you needed a key to get into. Digging into your vest pocket, you produce the one you would need to enter yours.

It was the one in the middle of the room, with access to the emergency door in the back and a clear view of the front door as well. Some traits stick with you when you join one of the best forces on the planet.

Since you lived around here, everything you would need was already in the locker, including a gray shirt, baggy sweats, fresh undergarments – thank God – and spare boots. Your duffel bag of belongings was still on the C-17 and set to go through inspection before you could get it back.

Groaning and deading the inevitable stack of reports you would have to go through, plus the thoughts of what to do tonight, you sit on the rickety wooden bench and begin to take off strap after strap of your uniform. 

“This is gonna be one hell of a problem, Isn’t it?” You mutter, body slouching with more and more fatigue as the seconds draw on. 

Maybe I should just stay here, You wonder to yourself, Say the hell with it to both of them and have a girl's night in. Watching a sad movie and crying over a bucket of fucking ice cream sounds better than fighting with Leon or trying to ignore John.

Chucking off your combat vest, you clench your jaw in agitation. Why couldn’t things be simple? Why couldn’t you just break it off with your boyfriend and be done? It was obvious the love that was there before was gone…but you had known Leon since high school. You bite your lip. There were so many good memories. 

John, as he usually does, weasels his way into your mind from the gaps. 

You unlock your locker and slam the door open so that the hinges rattle back in anguish. Shucking off your M13 your shaking hands all but toss the attached strap on the hook inside as you try to force the brown-haired Brit from your consciousness. You can’t call it love or lust, but somewhere in the spaces between missions and spent bullets you had grown fond of him in a way you couldn’t describe. John. Your Captain. 

As your knives and pistol are placed in the above cubie you run over hand over your face once more, pausing to breathe deeply before regaining motion. Putting your head on the locker’s cool metal corner, your eyes close tightly. 

The Black Op with Soap had been hard. You had been trying to strangle every emotion down like the ball in your throat when the Scot brought up Price or Leon during muttered conversations. 

“That’s why the Captain likes you so much, then!”

“The boy of yours is a pure dafty – why the hell would he say that to you?!”

“Price’ll have my head if you take another shot for me.”

“The two of you would make a fine looken’ couple, y’know. No missin’ the way he looks at you…Hey, now! I meant it as a compliment! Stop hitten’ me woman!”

You shouldn’t be feeling like this. Why were you feeling like this? Leon was a dick sure, but you both had fond memories together – you’d known him for more than half of your life! When you thought of someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with it was always…

Your eyes harden as reality sets in. 

John. 

“Fuck!” Reeling backward, you curl your left fist and send it right into the locker beside your own. 

Immediately a sparking of pain ripples down your limb like lighting, firing off nerves and heating the skin as blood rushes to the affected area. Hunching your shoulder’s in, you bite your tongue and tip your head down. 

Your heart is hammering so hard you hear it echo through the room, bouncing off the tall ceiling – Knock-knock. 

Blinking, you look up, staring in confusion into the depths of your locker before you realize that wasn’t your heart at all. 

A distinctly male voice calls your name from behind the barrier, and suddenly you know why they weren’t coming in. Closing your eyes and sighing, you back up and stare at the door silently. The man calls your name again, accent muffled as knuckles rasp.

Someone’s knocking on the door…? Why would they do that? You wondered, It’s unlocked.

“I know you’re in there – the Sergeant told me where I could find you,” You could imagine the person you had just been thinking about nodding as he always does during conversations; dark eyebrows animated, “ We need to have a word before you clean up, yeah?”

“Price?” You ask, face tightening as you recognize the speech pattern before he even finishes talking. Could you really not get a moment's peace around here? Shaking out your hand, which was bleeding by the knuckles and leaves droplets on the floor, you stutter out, “W-what are you doing in the girl’s barracks?”

Your heart was already running faster than it had a moment ago. You didn’t want to talk to him right now.

The Captain sighs behind the door, and under the crack you see a shadow shuffle from one foot to the other. His voice lowers, losing that formal tone for a second. Your body reacts even as you tell it not to, and your breath gets shallow and your pupils are blown wide. “Would you open the door so I can talk to you, please, Love? I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”

Sucking down a breath your large muscle palpitates heavily behind your ribcage. Did you really have a choice?

John, separated from you but still sensing your hesitation, feels his eyes narrow. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about your last interaction before you left; the way your eyes were red-rimmed and dull. It had weighed on him more than he liked to admit for those few months, and it wasn’t like he could call to check-in. 

Black Ops meant no contact, and your safety was always his priority before anything else. He waited. So when Soap had knocked on John’s office door, the two of you back at Base unannounced, and had looked at him with creased eyes he had known immediately something was wrong. 

For a moment, his heart had stopped, thinking you were injured. But Johnny’s next words stopped him. 

“The girl’s been acting strange, Price. I can’t find any sense behind it – been that way damn near ever since we shipped out. Little Lady’s worrying me. She’s not right and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Maybe this was a mistake, John thinks, eyes narrowing as he itches at his beard, forcing the heated image in his mind away like it burned him. He didn’t know what he felt about you, but the knowledge that you had a boyfriend didn’t sway his sense of loyalty. Even if being around you made his chest tighten and his thoughts run.

If you were in the right headspace the door would have already been open. But then again you were in the locker room. The Captain’s head jerks back, trying not to imagine you naked just behind a thin barrier as his chest sucks in a sharp breath. 

It wasn’t his place to think of such things. To imagine you beautifully naked, laying under him and gasping out his name was…it was immoral. You deserve better than that. But damn it if the thought didn’t make his pants tighten.

A shadow moves under the door and Price straightens his spine, taking a step back before bringing his attention back to the present. Taking a deep breath, he lets it out slowly. 

Your hand lays on the door knob stiffly, shirt already untucked and boots unlaced. You probably looked a mess, you thought to yourself, sticking your tongue out of the side of your mouth with nerves. Freezing, your heart skips a beat.

Why did you care?

Growling under your breath, you swing the door open and plaster a smile over your bitten-to-hell lips that wouldn’t convince a blind man. 

“Sir,” You say, body coiled as your eyes trail your Captain’s figure.

John Price was the same man you remembered. Tall and fit, wearing an army green long-sleeved athletic shirt and cargo pants tucked into boots mirroring your own. Watching his muscles writhe, he crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head – where the old bucket hat sits covering his shorter brown locks. 

The hallway lights were doing wonders for his complexion. 

“Do…you need something, Price?” Maybe if you didn’t look at him your head wouldn’t get fuzzy? 

Your eyes shifted up and down the hallways as if you were doing something illegal, listening to his breath and the rattle of his throat as he made a sound. 

If people saw the two of you rumors would start; you could almost hear them now.

“Did you see her talking to Captain Price outside the locker room?!”

“Lord, doesn’t she have a boyfriend here in the city? I feel bad for him...She’ll start one hell of an internal investigation.”

“No loyalty at all. I bet she likes sneaking around. Hey, do you think she’s sleeping with him?! Holy fuck I bet she is!”

“--Love? Hey, hey, Love, look at me, would you?” You blink back to reality, clearing your throat and tensing as a hand levels on your shoulder. 

Staring at John’s chest, you shake your head.

“Sorry, Sir, just tired,” You attempt a chuckle but it sounds like a balloon deflating, “Long mission, you know?”

Your eyes are boring holes in John’s chest, not willing to move anywhere else as your face begins to burn. His hand was so firm, warm, how would it feel when it was digging into the flesh of your thighs? Your waist? Would he be rough like the calluses on his hands would imply? Or would he handle you delicately like his guns, flicking over the safety and caressing the cool metal?

Shut the fuck up!

A moment passes before you notice your Captain hadn’t responded to you. Frowning, you throw him a quick glance and see him intently looking at your clenched, shaking, left hand. His blue eyes are dark, lips frozen in a thin line that has your lungs shriveling and a shiver running down your spine. You try not to follow the tensing of his lower abdominal muscles or the shifting of his large hips as his feet move.

Stop it, You plead with yourself, Please just stop. This isn’t right. What’s wrong with me?

That was the moment you noticed the blood dripping down your fingers, flooding from split knuckles and dotting the floor in red. Widening your eyes, you snap the hand behind your back in panic, clothes rustling.

“Uh,” You fumble, pulse so loud you can hear it in your ear as sweat slicks the back of your neck. Stuttering, you can’t find the words to continue before John speaks.

“Tell me,” He orders, voice so baritone and raspy you feel it rattle in your stomach; at that moment it’s not John you’re speaking to – it’s your Captain. You move out of his hold but he takes a step forward anyways, “Now.”

Freezing, you gape like a fish, mouth moving but no words come out to grace the man’s ears. John’s heart is pounding, snapping from the hidden hand to your eyes that lack the spark they usually had. He hadn’t seen that bit of light in your eyes for a long time and ached to find out why. What had happened? Why were you avoiding him? You usually went straight to his office after you got back from being separated from him – even if you were full of blood and dirt with bags lining your eyes. 

John’s hands clench, jaw following suit. 

You sigh shakily, swallow down saliva, and try not to throw up. 

“I-I…” Moving your head, your fingers shake. How could you explain your situation? Tell your Captain – who you have complicated feelings for – that you wanted to end things with Leon because of him? Fuck, do you tell him how shitty your boyfriend’s been? That wasn’t his business and certainly not his problem. It was better if you held your tongue and suffered, a part of you knew, because the infection of misplaced guilt was wrapped around your heart like thorns.

John would think less of you for staying with Leon for this long; probably put you on leave to figure it out yourself. 

No, You try to tell yourself, He wouldn’t do that – this is John we’re talking about. He’s kind to me and, if anything, he’d be just as pissed as I am about it. 

That you knew was true. John would go to war to make sure you were alright; he had.

The man was silently standing, patient with you even as the telltale sign of concern and muted irritation were painted on his face. John had always been a gentleman – holding doors open for you, letting you sleep in when the nightmares got to you and left you huddled in a corner for hours. He had found your favorite candy on an Op in Italy and bought you some for fucks sake!

But nothing made sense anymore and everything felt like it was at a breaking point. You liked Price – and hated Leon – and that fact nearly sent you spiraling into hysterics. You had been with your boyfriend for so long; he had been everything to you. 

Leon had helped you get through deaths in your family, and before the fighting started, ordered you flowers when you came back from deployments; Leon cooked and cleaned without you having to ask. He knew your life story possibly better than you did, and you knew his.

Your entire life was spent with him. Who were you if all of it suddenly ended? Years of your life thrown away for nothing.

If there was one thing that everyone on Base knew besides that your boyfriend was a bitch, it was that you hated change more than anything. Ironic, considering the profession you were in. 

You just needed silence – space to breathe without getting suffocated. But maybe what you really wanted was for John to fucking hug you. To feel his bear arms wrap around you and squeeze the stubborn tears out of your eyes as you sob. When was the last time you actually cried, anyways? John would make it better; hold you like he cared about you. Like how he had in Madagascar when a bullet got lodged in your side. You swore you saw him cry that day, beautiful blues shiny as your blood pooled out of his heavy, adrenaline-shaking, fingers. The body of the man who jumped you both lay dead and filled with more metal than a construction zone not a few feet away, gurgling. 

That man was supposed to be the target – Hubert Antonin – and you were both supposed to bring him in alive; you never got execute authority. 

But Price had unloaded the clip on him right as you cried out in pain.

“Stay with me, Princess, c’mon. Keep your eyes open for me…Look at me, Love. Hey, I promised I’d get ya’ back safe. Don’t make me lie, now, yeah?”

A weak, velvety, chuckle meets the humid air. It was startling, watching him lose his composure like that.

“It b-burns, John. I…I can’t–”

“I know, Sweetheart, I know. I’ll get you fixed up and good to go soon, Copy? Just like new,” His wild eyes snapped back and forth as your eyesight gets blurry, lids flickering like a candle’s flame, “Where the fucken’ hell is Evac?!... No, no, no…What did I just tell you – Keep those eyes open, Muppet!”

When you were stable in the Med Ward of the local Base, the man had brought you to his chest, letting you feel the rampaging of his heart and the uneven breaths on the top of your head. His hands tightened over you, fingers brushing up and down over your arms. Like he was worshiping you just for living. For being there.

“Attagirl. Just let me hold you for a minute, yeah?” 

As you recovered, he never let you out of his sight. 

If you thought about it too hard, that was perhaps the first instance when you knew something was very wrong with you for liking the feeling of his skin touching yours. His body heat melting into you in such a tight embrace it left you crying into his chest in thankfulness. You had never felt that when hugging Leon – Leon hated hugs to the point you had to beg him to hold you. 

But thinking about that was just another pipedream. Nothing about John Price and yourself would ever come to light as being anything more than partners on the Task Force. 

He was your Captain. You were working under him. 

You had a boyfriend. John had a valuable asset. 

But you really wanted him to be yours. And, never mind how Price felt about you and if it was the same twisted form of disloyalty or lust, you still hated yourself for it. For feeling so deeply.

“No,” You respond blankly to John’s request for an explanation of…everything, but can’t look into his eyes to see the shock that sparks. 

John's shoulders tense, jaw going slack. He gains his senses, but it’s already too late. 

Jerking back into the locker room, you slam it shut behind you and snap the lock in place, feeling the quivering of your lips as the first sob builds. 

Your skin was dirty and layered with grime, hair matted, and gear in need of deep cleaning. But that feeling you carried didn’t change even as you took a shower, wiping away everything down a drain with red-tinged water as a shadow hesitated for a long moment before confidently moving away from the front door.

You still felt disgusting. 

—

Nothing you did made sense to him. 

John was walking away from the locker room with measured steps, head pounding. People passed by and gave him strange looks, but his eyes were dead ahead, glaring at everything and nothing at the same time. This wasn’t like you at all. 

She’s been acting strange for months, why haven’t I bloody checked in sooner? Your actions reminded him of a ghost – walking around the halls at night and steadily dimming. The whole team had seen it; how there was a weight eating at you. Price and the others had tried to get you to talk to no avail. 

I need to do something about this, He tells himself as a thought worms its way into his brain.

Could she be angry at me? Now that he thought about it, every time he was near you trying to engage in a conversation you froze and made some excuse to not speak. And with how you looked at him before you slammed the door in his face…John had stayed shell-shocked behind the barrier with half a mind to rush in and demand you tell him what was wrong. 

But he knew that would only make it worse.  

“She needs time to cool off,” He mutters under his breath, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers and holding his head for a moment, “Get her head on straight.”

But what if you never chose to seek him out after the fact? Could he handle that? 

Why do I want her to come to me when she’s hurting? He wonders with a clenched jaw.

Taking a corner and leaving the Women’s Barracks, John sighs as he walks on. His feelings were getting in the way again – his feelings about you that he had tried to choke down like whisky. Ironic, that it left the same burning sensation in his neck. There was only so much he could do about them, truth be told, because everything about you made the Captain want to disregard every order he’s given. 

It wasn’t right, it was the definition of wrong in both of your lines of work, but this was the one situation he didn’t know how to fix. So he kept silent. 

You had a boyfriend, and that was enough to stay his tongue and keep him watching from a distance.

John made it back to his office quickly and quietly, but would soon find that trying to get reports done was impossible. When his pen would hit the paper his mind would blank, and many times he would have to re-read the contents over and over to retain anything. 

“Fuck,” He breathes out, baring his teeth and leaning back in his chair. 

The most he could do was sit there and wait until tonight; hoping that the bar that Soap was bringing the Task Force to had good Whisky. 

Try as he might, he knows getting drunk would only make him think of you more.

—

The car ride to your house was spent in silence, a sheen of rain making the sky dark. Under you, the fake leather seats are cold, leaving you shivering even as you were wrapped in a thick sweatshirt and your spare cargo pants. Gripping the wheel tighter as the quiet road went on and on ahead of you, the street lamps shine on the old sidewalks corralling you in. 

You had made the tough decision to surprise Leon when you got home. 

Lips thinning, all you can hope is that the stewing anger that had been left behind had calmed and not worsened. But Leon held grudges, and, unfortunately, so did you. Your Grandma’s lamp still made your heart ache if you thought about it too much; left bitter tears and a bare esophagus behind.

He had stepped over a big line – one you weren’t sure you could forgive him for. Sighing and shaking your head, you watch the dark road as the chilled cloud of condensation is expelled from your mouth. It seems you had forgotten to turn the heat on too. 

Taking a turn, you pull the vehicle to a slow stop as its brakes squeal. Months of sitting in the Base’s underground garage would do that to you, but you still grimace at the noise that makes your face tense. Maybe Ghost would fix up your car like last time so you wouldn’t have to fork over a fortune at the dealership downtown. 

You can’t hide the small smile that comes at the idea. Simon pretended to be such a grump all the time, but he had his moments.

Coming to a full stop, you turn the car to park and look outside through the deluge. 

“At least that hasn’t changed,” You utter, breath fogging the window as lashes of rainwater race down the glass, “It still looks as perfect as ever.” 

The house was brightly lit, painted white, and had a large Oak door in the center. In the front, there was a black iron fence with a small gate and a latch. Looking, a prickly sensation enters your body and your fingers twitch over the wheel inexplicably. Your eyes run from one window to the other, all with warm light streaming out from behind the curtains, and furrow. With one hand you go to itch at your nose.

Why were all the lights on anyways? It’s like ten at night…Not the point, I’m stalling.

“Just go and speak to him,” You mutter to yourself, nodding firmly. But your lungs contracted in your ribcage in blatant retaliation. 

You wished playing therapist with yourself was easier.

Turning off the car and stuffing the keys in your pants pocket, you unclipped your seatbelt and turned to grab your small carry bag. Since the Base was so close there was really no need to bring your duffel bag. You’d be back there tomorrow for de-briefings with Price anyways; writing out papers and sighing confidentiality documents until your eyes bled. Would John bring you tea this time to help you stay awake? Or would he give you that look that meant – ‘Go to sleep right now, or do I have to order you to your bed?’

John would give in occasionally, and sit with you as you worked. He would read, or, you would take a break and play trivia with him; sometimes you asked him to tell stories. You really liked his stories. 

On even rarer cases, when the contents of the report brought up bad memories that left your face blank, he would tell you one of his tales unprompted. Usually, after that warm and selfless event, you would wake up back in your bed without the knowledge of ever falling asleep at all. But there would always be a note. Handwritten on your nightstand. 

John Price hand wrote you notes on crappy lined paper with his chicken scratch lettering. You remembered blushing every time you got one and had your favorite memorized word for word. It had meant so much to get one, Leon never wrote letters. 

“Guess my stories are more boring than I knew, Love, you passed out nearly immediately into the first one. Do me a favor, yeah, and sleep in today? Don’t worry about morning drills. I’ve already dismissed you. Sleep tight. 

– John”

Clenching your jaw, you shake your head and close your eyes. Thinking about seeing him tomorrow makes you sick.  

More opportunities to make a fool of myself and cause him to hate me. God, I fucking slammed a door in his face because I couldn’t get a grip. What’s wrong with me? He doesn’t deserve that.

You can’t keep living like this anymore, you try to tell yourself as you dig through your bag. Grabbing your phone, you’re about to shove it in your pocket beside the keys when it lights up, showcasing the wallpaper of you and the boys on a past Op from years ago. 

Everyone had their full gear on, weapons around fronts, and armed to the teeth. Full of blood and other substances. 

It was your favorite picture and you even had it printed out on your nightstand at Base.

John had his arm over your shoulder, staring at you softly with his head covered by his hat – which had burn marks on it – as you pointed a finger into Gaz’s smug, smile-split, face. Soap’s laughing and holding his stomach as Ghost at his side has a hand to his masked face in exasperation. 

You blink in surprise at the text message from your Sergeant as it pops up.

“Soap’s texting me?” Your mind wonders, and you roll your eyes, “I already said I wasn’t going out.” Not looking and turning your phone off, you shove it in your pocket but can’t hide the small sense of annoyance, “I spent four months with the guy in Russia, sorry, but I need a break from him before my brain explodes.”

Opening the car door, you flinch as rain batters your head and stains your clothes, but you just swing your bag over your shoulder and slam it shut behind you. Locking it with the fob, you make your way quickly to the front door, slipping past the metal gate without mishap and jogging over the lawn to the two front steps. Scaling them, you stand under the portico and look behind you, gazing up and down the street. You watch for a moment the family who lives across the street – they were watching a movie in the living room, huddled on the couch. 

Jerking your head back, you take out your house key and insert it into the lock with a grim face. Twisting, your skin shivers once more as a bout of wind shakes your baggy clothes just as you hear the familiar click of the front door unlocking. 

But that damn lamp. Grandma’s lamp. And John’s blue eyes filled with concern for you. His hands. 

When had this place stopped being home for you?

“Just speak to him,” You repeat a second time, gripping the doorknob, “Get it over with like an adult and forgive each other…” 

You clench your jaw and wrench the door open, shaking your head to dispel the water weighing the locks down like a wet dog. Stepping inside with heavy feet, you close the door quietly behind you and lock it. 

“Leon…?” You wonder out loud, slipping your gaze from the empty couch to the blaring TV as you slip off your boots. Muttering under your breath you add, “Where are you?”

“--And in more local news, the grand opening of the downtown café “Four Horseman” has wracked in a whopping profit of–”

Your fingers flicked off the news, the woman’s voice suddenly halting from the speakers. Frowning, your ears twitch. 

What’s that noise?

“Oh, Leon!” Freezing, your legs tense, hands at your sides gradually tightening into fists. Blinking in surprise, your heart begins to pump adrenaline through your veins with the efficiency of a racehorse. You don’t know that voice, “Just like that!”

But you weren’t stupid.

A certain type of dread infects your brain that leaves your mouth opening in shock; eyebrows peeling back to travel up your forehead. Before you tell yourself that it was better just to leave the house now, while your mind is unbroken, you can’t stop your already moving feet. 

You barrel down the hallway to get to the master bedroom, where you shove on the already partially open barrier with a heavy slam. Rage burns in your gut, spreading like a disease into the thin tissue and bleeding out; proliferating with relentless reach.  

Leon was over a random girl in your bed, half-naked and pants already being dragged down his hips by feminine legs. The woman was already bare, perfect skin glowing in the low light of red candles. 

Your rage freezes with a layer of thin ice, and your heart hammers. Sweat gathers in your clenched palms as the stranger’s scream enters the room. Both were already watching you in horror. Leon halts his actions of being knuckle-deep in the girl – the woman had seen you and snapped her hands to the ruined sheets of your bed to try and cover herself with a desperate scream.

“Leon?!” She yells out, face becoming bright as the scent of expensive perfume makes your nose twitch, “Who the fuck is that?!” 

Blankly, you turn your head to look at your boyfriend – former boyfriend. 

“Yeah, Leon,” You’re surprised by the firmness of your voice, the dead tone hurled out with no remorse. It betrays how you really feel. Tears burn the backs of your eyes, and your lungs hurt when you suck in quiet breaths to help your composure, “Do you wanna explain who I am? Or just how you’re fucking another woman on our bed.”

Leon’s eyes are comically wide, mouth agape and fluttering. Cruel satisfaction brews in your heart as your lips flicker into a dark smirk; anger was better than tears, you decided. 

“Our bed?! You said you were single!” The woman gasps, snapping her head to the man still above her, “Get the hell off me!” 

Shoving Leon, you watch the girl scramble to grab her clothes all over the floor as she apologizes to you. 

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that he had–”

“Just get out, please,” You mutter under your breath, and the lady zips past with her shirt only half on and her bra hooked between her fingers. 

“Baby,” Leon looks like he’s about to cry, getting to his knees on the mattress and you catch a glimpse of his boxers with cows printed on them. 

Before you had found those enduring – maybe even cute in a dorkish sort of way – but now you realized it was just pathetic. He was pathetic.

“Baby, I swear this isn’t what it looks like!” His fingers are glistening, and his pants are stained. 

You blankly stare at the stranger who inhabits your ex’s body and say nothing back; watching as Leon scrambles for an explanation that changes nothing. There was an absence of anything you loved in this house. 

“Hope it was worth it,” Blankly speaking, you turn around and leave, feet slamming into the floor as Leon calls to you pleadingly. 

“Please! I didn’t–” His voice cuts out as a thump echoes over the home, like someone falling out of a bed before a yelp takes its place. Not slowing, you slip your boots on and unlock the front door. 

Just as fast footsteps rush to the foyer you slam the door behind your back and descend the steps, no longer caring about the rain as you walk in a trance-like state. It hadn’t really hit you yet what had happened, but it was starting too. 

Your breath was getting thinner, hands shaking as your shoulders hunched and waterfalls down your face and neck. The bag over your shoulder is now ten times heavier than it was before.

The door slams open just as you exit the black-iron gate and unlock your car.

“Babe, come back inside, let's talk about this!” Leon screams, and his bare feet seem to slap over the drowned lawn, “You just need to sit down and I’ll speak and explain why I’ve been sleeping with Maxine!”

Your hand freezes on the car handle, slick metal stuck under your grip. 

You whirl around with fire in your eyes, lips snarling.

“Sleeping!?” With your face contouring, your loud voice carries over the storm as Leon – who had gotten quite close by now – reels back a step, “As in this has happened before, you goddamn prick?! How long have you been cheating on me while I’ve been risking my fucking life to get back home to you?!”

Leon’s face twists as you look him in the eyes, nose scrunching.

“Oh, don’t stay on your high horse,” He growls, hands animating his words as you try and keep your cool, “We both know you’ve been cheating far longer than I have.”

“Do we?!” It’s past the point of sense now, and the other lights from the once-dark houses begin flickering their outside lights on from all the noise, “I’ve never fucked anyone while I was out, Leon. You can’t say that, can you?!” 

“You don’t need someone to stick their dick in you to cheat. You’re just as bad as me – John Price must be one helluva guy to ruin a relationship that started when we were teenagers.”

Your breath stutters, and after a moment of shocked silence you shake your head in disbelief, “You’re a bastard, Leon…I wish I’d never met you. Wish I’d never wasted my time with a pathetic man like you. Maybe John is one helluva guy, hm? Maybe I’ll have to tell him that myself.”

Leon’s eyes were red, and his lips, just like yours, quivered as he tried to come up with an answer. You turn around before you can sob and reach for the door once more. 

A heavy weight settled on your arm, your Ex’s fingers suddenly squeezing your skin so hard your lips let loose a muted gasp. Trying to rip your arm away, you tilt your head to look back at Leon.

“Let go of me,” You say the words slowly, feeling rainwater travel down the bridge of your nose and splash to your shoulder, “Now.”

Leon’s hand only tightens, and you hiss, feeling blood vessels pop under the pressure.

“You’re coming back inside and you’re going to listen to what I tell you,” Leon leans closer, eyes dark, “I’m not taking ‘no’ for an–”

Your fist connects with his cheek, and a second later you’re nursing your sensitive knuckles, shaking out your hand and grimacing. Whining reminiscent of a wounded duck rips over the night, and, gripping at his face, Leon lays on the ground half-naked and less of a man than he’d ever been – which was an achievement, to say the least. 

You should have broken up with him years ago. John would never treat you like this.

Getting into your car, you sit down and lock the doors behind you as you insert the key, twisting and feeling it jerking to life. With morbid curiosity, you turn to the opposite window and look at the house across the street.

The family was at the window, no longer enraptured by their TV, and the mother had a hand over her mouth. She was in the process of turning her children away from the scene as the other parent stood watching, slack-jawed. 

Blinking, you don’t know if it’s tears or rain that you’re forcing away from your eyes, but the burning tells you which option you should put your money on. Wiping at your face and sucking down shuddering breaths, you press on the pedal and peel away from the white house with a large Oak door. Taking a peak at the mirror, you spy a man trying to get back to his feet but stumbles, falling once more and slamming into a puddle. 

Driving, you only make it to the next street before you park on the side of the road, your whole body shaking and gasping for breath. With the adrenaline dying down, the pain in your arm becomes prominent, making pain spark as you shift it. The area would most likely bruise. 

Your lips twist and a small whimper leaves your mouth. You smack your forehead to the wheel, hands falling like lead to your lap as a sniffle weasels its way out; tears begin to smack your thighs, gradually increasing until you were concerned your car would flood. 

Crying was never your thing. With all the sights you’d seen, tears felt so small compared to every other horror – they meant nothing in the grand scheme of events taking place. All they were good at was making your nose run and your skin get hot. 

John’s seen me cry before, Your thoughts are running so fast it’s a strange circumstance that they stop when your Captain’s name is filtered through. 

Price had found you in the bathroom, covered in dried blood and shaking just as you were in the present. There had been an accident on the recent Op – a kid had gotten caught in the crossfire and had taken a bullet to the stomach. You had held him as he died; seen the light in his eyes leave in one fell swoop as you drowned in his blood trying to stop the bleeding.

That was what led up to you rushing off the Helo, finding the first bathroom on Base, and rushing inside to throw your guts up. John, of course, had followed close at your heels with fast feet.

“Love,” He said from outside the door slowly, “I’m coming in.” 

Shell-shocked, your hands were strained as you gripped the sides of the toilet, not even picking up on the concern leaking from his tone. Wide-eyed, you stare blankly at the vile contents inside the bowl – throat burning with acid as the image of that dying kid plays on repeat. 

The door opens hesitantly as if any major noise would break you, the hinges squeaking. A pair of feet carefully pad over the tile towards your hunched figure. When his hand slides over your back, his shadow comes to encompass you, shrouding you in its comforting darkness. He made it better.

John’s grip slides back and forth over the gear and other objects along your figure. You hadn’t bothered to take anything off, in fact, your gun was still strapped around your chest and weighing you down. It hit against the toilet with a ‘clink’ every time you moved.

“Sweetheart?” John mutters, body curling around yours.

“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” You say the words numbly as you glance at the blood on your hands with muted horror, “I…I…He should have been with the other civilians. He wasn’t…”

“I know,” Price whispers, grunting, watching you as your mind breaks to try and think through this, “I know, Love.”

When he knows your stomach has settled, you feel him carefully grab your shoulders and lean you back against the opposite wall. It was like a ramshackle hug, but the feeling of his body pressing into yours made you fall limp. You were safe here. Protected. His fingers go to your weapon, taking it off of you and setting it on the ground as he knees at your side. Soon after goes the combat vest, John pulling at the velcro with confidence. Your body jerks as he peels it off. 

“Lift your arms for me, yeah?” Doing as he says, the article is set by your gun and pushed aside, “Attagirl, just like that.”

The man keeps a hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth. He was closer than he needed to be, but that was alright. 

Looking down, your thousand-yard stare locks to the blood staining your skin, getting stuck in the grooves and the beds of your nails. Would water even wash it off? You had wondered in silent panic. What if it never came off? John’s other hand gravitates to your cheek and the increased sound of your breath is accented by a sharp inhale.

Blinking to push back the nothingness of your gaze, tears dribble from your tear ducts as your eyes lock with his. 

John looked so sad. 

His expression was pained, lips downturned and eyes painfully narrowed on your form; his eyebrows were pressed in on his forehead, curing in the center and creating creases over his flesh. The beard – still filled with dirt and grime – moved as his lips did.

“Focus on me, alright?” You nod, shakily, and watch his optics flick from one part of your face to another, “That wasn’t your fault.” 

“John,” You whimper, the dam breaking every moment his fingers move and caress your skin. His grip travels to the back of your neck and brings your face to his shoulder, letting you sag into him on a dirty bathroom floor. 

“It’s okay,” He mutters into your hair, lips moving as your hands snap to dig into his vest. His hat was pressing into your scalp – grounding you in the present just as his heartbeat was. The muscle was strong in his chest, pounding, “It’s all gonna be alright, Kid. I need you to know it wasn’t your fault,” John sighs, trying to draw you closer, “You did the best you could. I’m proud of you.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” You sob, and repeat the sentence once more, like, if you did, whatever God out there would bring the boy back to life. Your lips pull back in pain, wails exiting. 

“I know,” John responded, voice so low your sounds of anguish almost covered it up. His grip tightens, and he lays a kiss on the top of your head. 

You knew, then, that John would give anything to take away your pain. But what he didn’t know was that you would replay his words in your mind to stave off the nightmares – use the image of his face to bring you stability when you woke up mid panic attack. 

It was the only time you didn’t hate crying, because John’s warmth had made it better. Had made it mean something. 

You both spend a long time on that bathroom floor.

When you had spent at least an hour collecting your thoughts in that frigid car, you finally checked your phone. 

Fifty-seven missed calls and thirty-five texts from Leon. Chuckling humorlessly and shaking your head in disbelief, you block him with a quick tap; it was over. You’re about to chuck the phone and go back to Base, but then you pause, eyes locking on a single text notification left on the screen.

Soap: If ya change your mind….’Bottom’s Up Bar’… ;)

He lists the address just below, and your eyes bore into it.

“Fuck it,” Your hoarse voice echoes out in the cool car air, “I need a drink anyways.”

—

Price sits on the bar stool in a black woolen trench coat and a dark beanie, nursing a glass of whisky in his hands that rests against the counter. 

“What’s with the long face, Captain,” Gaz sits at his side, the stools under them uncomfortable and threatening to give out from under them if one happens to take too deep a breath. Soap and Ghost are over playing pool, and the TV behind the counter was showing reruns of some hockey game that was absent of watchers. No one else was there beside them, “Whisky not up to par?” 

“It tastes like piss water,” John mutters but still brings the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip, “But I’ve had worse, Sergeant. You?” 

Gaz smirks, “I’ve had worse…Just tell Soap that I’m never letting him pick the bar ever again. Man’s bloody taste buds must be burned off if he calls this quality.” 

John grunts, tilting his head to the side in an affirmative nod. 

The area lapses into silence, the sound of billiard balls connecting to a cue stick loud as the smell of tobacco and cheap beer perforated the air. There weren’t any civvies left in the old-style building, and outside the rainstorm pounded against the front windows deterring anyone from venturing outside. The group probably should have stayed on Base, but Johnny had been insistent to the point everyone just gave in to the Scot’s demands.

After all, what harm could one drink do? They were all tired.

“Do you think she’ll show?” Gaz asks as the TV erupts with cheers; someone had scored, apparently. The Captain was never one for hockey – Liverpool was his go-to for football teams, and that was about it. In fact, he had a game to catch up on later if he could get the hell out of here in a timely fashion.

Gaz’s question makes the man lightly startle, sliding his gaze to his Sergeant with a sharply raised brow. He brings the glass to his lips once more and takes a swig, missing out on the burn that was found in his own Whisky stash back at his flat in London. It’s not hard to tell who Gaz is talking about. 

“Unlikely,” John speaks through a sigh, going back to mindlessly watching the television as the bartender filters past to clean a table in the far corner. Soap cheers from the pool table, “Her…boyfriend’s making her dinner. Always does when she gets back.”

“Hm,” Gaz chuffs, “Lucky sod,” The Sergeant pauses, and John takes a deep breath at the mischievous tone the man beside him earns. It was too late at night for this bullshit, “I bet you wouldn’t mind having the girl in your home while you make her supper, eh, Cap?”

“Garrick,” Price says the last name slowly, fingers tightening over the cup on the table, “You want to be on sanitation duty for a month – two?”

“...Sir?” Letting out a nervous chuckle, Gaz sends a quick glance to Soap whose ears had quirked at the conversation a few feet away.

“Then I suggest you stop acting like a Muppet and mind your damn business. The girl is her own woman and deserves her privacy,” John sends a narrowed glance with a quirked eyebrow and a warning in his suddenly darker eyes, “Copy?”

“Copy, Sir…Apologies.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” John levels, twirling his glass in his large fingers before tossing back the last remnants inside. Swallowing, he stands and fixes the position of his beanie, feeling his bones creak with fatigue. 

To everyone at the bar, Price looked annoyed that you had been brought up, but those who knew him best could tell that much more was going on. The man had kept the side of his eye on the front door the entire time 141 had been at the bar, shoe tapping against the dark wood floors as hours passed. Even more telling, Gaz had noticed that John had only had one glass of Whisky tonight – even if it tasted horrible the Captain was bound to drink at least three when they all went out. 

It was tradition; everyone knew it. Captain Price of the 141 always had three glasses. Always. You would attest to that, considering that when you tagged along you made fun of him for it. 

“You always have three glasses – I’ve never, for the life of me, figured out why it's always three! Do you never think ‘Oh, gee golly, maybe I’ll bloody have another lad, be a merry good Muppet and pour me another, yeah?’’

Your horrendously exaggerated British accent led to a few snickers that night, and Gaz had seen his Captain’s full body laugh for the first time; watching John sputtering as he coughed down the drink he had been sipping from. 

“Love,” The man had stared at you with a deep smile, eyes crinkling, “Whatever just came out of your mouth, yeah? Never do that in my presence again. Accent’s shaken’ more than your hands when you have to stitch me up.” 

“My stitches aren’t that bad, Asshat! You just move too fucken’ much!”

John scratches his forehead in the present and brushes off his jacket. 

“Alright, Muppets…I think that’s it for the–” 

The bell at the front door jingles. 

Snapping his head over, Price freezes just as he sticks his hands in his jeans pockets, the grumbled words dying on his parted lips. 

A figure was standing at the entrance, soaked to the bone and shivering like a sphinx cat in a snowstorm; water dripped from her nose to the rug. John’s jaw slightly slackens, eyes wide and snapping back and forth. 

You were standing there, eyes gravitating from Soap and Ghost’s pool game – which had halted immediately at your sudden presence – until you blink a raindrop from your eyelashes and lock eyes with John. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Your voice sounds like gravel, Price notes, head slowly tilting to try and understand why His legs had to tense to stop him from rushing over, his training alerting him to the redness of your eyes. You had been crying, why? “Storm’s coming down pretty hard, huh?” Attempting a chuckle, it seems to fall flat.

“Holy shit, Love,” Gaz mutters, snatching a rag from behind the counter of the bar and ignoring the complaints from the worker. He rushes past John, who continues to stare at you and fight his own subconscious, “Did you walk here?”

The Sergeant blinks at you in concern, eyes filtering up and down your body as he stands close and holds aloft the fabric.

“Nah,” Price watched you snatch the towel, going to pat it on your face and neck – running it over your hair and gripping, “Was outside for a little bit, but I came in the car…Oh, speaking of that, Simon,” You turn to the large man who bores his eyes into your face, “The brakes are acting up again – you think you could fix it up back on Base in your free time?”

Ghost taps the cue stick against the ground, lips behind his balaclava shifting as he speaks, “You goin’ to make me fix it up every time you get back? What do I look like, Bird? A mechanic?”

A weak smirk flickers over your lips, but John notices a particular bleakness in your eyes. Soap, who thus far had been strangely quiet, looks at him with flat lips and a small shake of his mohawked head.

Enough is enough, Price decides with a stubble tilt of his forehead, I’ve given her the space she needs – she’s telling me everything. Tonight.

His jaw clenches, and he pulls his hands out of his pockets just to cross them over his chest when you respond to Simon.

“I’ll clean your clothes for a month.” 

“...Two.”

“Deal,” Nodding, you smile at Gaz in thanks and splay the towel over the banister beside you to help it dry, “Thanks, Gaz.”

“What happened to dinner with the Stoter?” Soap finally speaks as you make your way farther into the building. You send him a quick glance as you walk closer to John at the booth. The Scot levels you with a heavy stare, feet shoulder-length apart and jaw clicking, “He do something?” 

A tense silence falls, and all the men send each other looks as you slink to the bar, jumping up on a stool and clearing your throat. You itch at the side of your bicep as you lick your lips in hesitation. 

Why were you not saying anything?

John buries his fingernails into the meat of his arms, taking your lack of answer like a knife to the chest. It was like a switch had flipped as he saw your expression drop for a millisecond, layers cracking like you were barely held together. The veins in the Captain’s arms were flooded with blood, and his hands showed white knuckles. 

There was a terrible reality settling behind his eyelids, and the man wasn’t in his job position because he was anything less than an observer. He was angry, that much was obvious by his tight jaw and dangerous eyes on the side of your face. 

But there was something more important than revenge, and she was sitting right in front of him.

Your clothes are still dripping with water, and without hesitating when he spies you shiver, John shakes off his jacket and spreads it softly over your shoulders. When you jerk back in surprise he feels a part of him break, but steadies you with a thin quirk of his lips and pulls the front of the woolen material farther over your form.

What’s that fucken’ prat done to her? He growls internally, Mark my words…

The Captain’s eyes carefully narrow, orbs sliding over your face. His thumb goes to swipe a tear of water from your hairline and breathes out a sigh when your eyelids flutter.

Looking at your Captain with vulnerable eyes, you answer Soap’s question with a muttered, defeated, tone. It was like you were talking to your superior and not the man at the pool table.

“We...uh, I, broke up with him,” A moment of silence. Two. 

John feels like he’s frozen in time, his body stiff, and his lungs shell-shocked. But in the farthest, most forced-down bits of his consciousness, he thinks there’s a part of him that’s…Christ, is he happy?

He nearly has to turn and leave to take a breather – gain his composure at his own disgusting thoughts – but your eyes hold him captive, unblinking despite the revelation.

You had…broken up with Leon. Your boyfriend.

John’s eyes slowly widen. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

—

“Well, It’s about damn time,” Soap interjects into the moment, gleeful, and you feel your eyes slip away from the cerulean blues of John’s widened sockets, in favor of the table-top, “Erm, no offense, of course, but that’s great news!”

“Shut up!” Gaz hisses, going over to slap at MacTavish’s arm, “Can’t you see she’s bloody gutted about it – idiot!” 

“Hey, now. That excuse for a man was in no way worthy of being with a beauty like her–”

“Johnny,” Ghost utters lowly, the only one able to see your quickly deteriorating state besides the Captain who tries to comfort you, “Shut your trap.”

“C’mon L.t, you had to have seen how he…” Soap stops, finally looking at you, and the chuckle that had been building in his throat dissolved. 

A hand settles on your shoulder, and you blink out of your trance, slowly turning your head to look out of the corner of your eye. John squeezes, and you find that his grip over his gifted jacket is warmer than anything you remember. But you don’t look at his face, instead, you tilt your head down and fold your arms on the counter, slotting your skull in the middle of them. 

John’s hand gravitates to your back and rubs small circles, and above you, he mutters, “Talk to me, Love.”

“He…” You interrupt, hands tightening into fists. Your eyes burned something fierce, but you can just blame the shaking of your body on the wet clothes, “I was going to surprise him. He didn’t know that I was back in town yet, anyways. But, uh, he’s been cheating on me, I guess…Found ‘em in bed.”

Price’s hand stutters over its coarse, but he clears his throat and continues as your stomach tightens, 

“Son of a fucken’ bastard,” Simon’s the first one to speak – which would have surprised you if you’d been paying attention, “That prick did what?” 

Gaz murmurs, “Shit..,” off to the side, but your hidden gaze doesn’t bother to move as Soap lets off a string of curses and insults on Leon’s name. 

The hand over your back is intoxicating, and you feel drunk as you focus on it. John’s fingers dig into his jacket, but just enough for you to feel his nails create a light stimulation through the layers. There was a sense to his actions, you know. He was trying to ground you; he wanted you to focus on his caress. 

You didn’t want to admit how well it was working.

But it was a good thing he did because you have a feeling if he wasn’t there you’d be replaying the events of tonight in your mind one after the other like a fucked up movie.

Leon really did that, You suck in a shaky breath that leaves John moving closer, and you hear muttered conversations from above you, All of those years…Did I really miss something as obvious as him cheating on me? 

It couldn’t be helped.

When you came back from deployments your mind let go of the hyper-focus that was ingrained into you – that Price had ingrained into you – and settled into a haze of sanctity. Home meant food, sleep, and a place of comfort. But when the fighting started you suppose a part of that focus came back to you, blocking out everything that didn’t matter. 

Missing pictures, clothes stuffed where they shouldn’t be, your hair products hidden. They were pointless in the grand scheme of things because you were at battle in your own house. It was small compared to your breaking relationship. 

Maybe that’s when I stopped loving him, You reason, and it’s the first time you admit you didn’t care about Leon in that way anymore, When the fighting started. Did I unconsciously know what he’d done?

You had been more irritable when you were back at the house, some fights even instigated by you.

“But how did I miss it…?” You can’t help but whisper, strained, into the woodgrain of the counter in your cocoon. 

“None of that,” John suddenly says, voice low, and his hand over you halts, “That’s a good way to mess your head up, that is, Love. Just stay here.” 

Shivering, you sniffle, lungs stuttering and with a hot face stained with embarrassment, you whimper out, “I’m such an idiot.” 

The stool beside you screeches as it’s pulled out. 

“You say that again I’m leaving you on desk rotation for a week,” John grunts, and from your hiding place your head shifts, one eye peeking out from over your arm. You find the man glaring at you so heatedly you pause as tears start to leak down your cheeks once more, “I mean it. None of that bullshit – you are not at fault – that,” He pauses, and you see his chest sputter as he tries to collect himself. Price’s eyes flash with rage before it’s gone in an instant, “That’s the bloody bastard’s cross to carry, Love. Understand me?”

You stare at him; at his boiling blue eyes as the sound of a hockey game plays in the background of this shitty bar. The warm lights overhead gather in them to flicker like stars when he blinks, creating constellations for you to memorize when his eyelids once more pull back.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He levels, head with that black beanie tilting closer, “Copy?”

“Copy,” You croak out, blinking to clear the fuzziness of your eyes. Reaching one of your hands, you pull the jacket closer around your neck. It smells like John, and whether you notice it or not, the tension in your muscles leaks when you inhale smoke, pine trees, and gunpowder. 

Patting you on the back, the man stares into you, optics stuck on the image of your tear-stained cheeks and dripping hair. His trench coat was most likely going to be soaked, but he found he didn’t care. If it brought you comfort, the outrageous price he paid for it would be made back tenfold. Maybe he’d even let you keep it; didn’t matter if it was his favorite, he would give you the shirt off his back if you asked for it. 

Not able to stop the words coming out of his mouth when you meet his gaze with fluttering eyelashes, John speaks once more as he feels the gazes of his teammates around him. But the words came easily.

“You didn’t deserve to come home to that. That boy doesn’t know what he’s just lost, alright?” When he sees your cheeks move in a small, barely-there smile, and the way your eyes lit with embers at his teasing tone, the Captain let a smirk of his own fall. But he still refused to speak Leon’s name aloud – his own anger was held on a thin string that was fraying by the moment. You? Getting cheated on? Who in their right mind would do that?! The Muppet didn’t deserve to have your perfect ears twitch at his name ever again, “At least tell me you ripped him a new pair, Love? If not, I’ll have to review your training exercises. Maybe add in a bracket for hand-to-hand.”

“...I might have sucker-punched him.”

John’s chuckle is velvet as it slips through your eardrums. 

“Attagirl, I’d have paid to see that, I wager. Everyone knows you throw a heavy hand,” Your giggle makes his heart soar; beat violently in his breast.

He’d give everything to hear you make that noise again. 

“Did it down him?” Your head slowly peaks up farther, perfect chin now visible. Your short-lived tears had stopped.

“Twirled like a dancer on a string.”

“Bloody brilliant, my girl. Bloody fucken’ brilliant.” Nodding, John smiles, beard pulling back to show pearl-white teeth, and claps your shoulder.

You love the way he makes you feel, like everything you do is well-thought-out and not just spur of the moment. Creasing your eyelids, you rub at your cheeks to try and wipe away the heat of them, knowing that wouldn’t work but still trying. John made your brain pump with dopamine, giddiness striking you in the chest like a bullet with a simple smile and his hand on your back. 

…Why was his hand still on your back? 

“This place got any good drinks?” You ask, trying not to look so entranced by the man in front of you. 

John’s grip slips away and you hate that you want to snatch at it; feel the calluses burn your skin and dig into sensitive flesh. Breaking up with Leon had given you an adrenaline spike, one that lasted so long you were still riding it – only just now was the raging of your heart beginning to still.

It was a bad thought, you told yourself, a horrible thought to have right now…but damn it if John didn’t look like the solution to all of your problems, that yearning urge to feel good.

Leon was gone.

“Hm,” Your Captain murmurs, and your trailing eyes snap from his tight athletic shirt to his face. John turns himself to the front, grunting and setting his elbows on the counter, he lifts one finger up into the air to the frowning bartender and sends you a glace, “Unfortunately, MacTavish picked a place before I could verify,” The bartender thumps over and the Captain confidently says, “One Old Fashioned for the lady, and a refill for me, yeah?”

The bartender's eyebrows furrow, “Old Fashioned? What the hell is that?”

John’s body stills, and his face blanks as if he’s been personally offended. Laughing, you move back from the counter, hopping off the stool and going to stand near your Captain. Resting a hand on his shoulder, you tilt your head when his full attention whips to you. 

His eyes glance at your hand before they settle; softening around the cold edges as the pupils widen. You nearly lose your breath at the sight…It made you want to snatch that hat off his head and make him chase you down for it; hold you to his chest and squeeze.

Stop it.

“I think I’m gonna head back to Base,” You say aloud, “Hang out in the Rec room and go to bed early. Maybe get a headstart on reports for tomorrow,” Looking back at the boys, you begin taking off Price’s trench coat, small hesitations in your nerves showing how much you wanted to keep it around you. But you needed to leave – clear your head without John’s scent making you hazy, “Don’t stay out too long, boys, I’m not coming to drag you back.” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” Simon utters, knocking a billiard ball and watching the ricochets. He sends you a guarded look, numb eyes running over you, “Drive safe. Weathers looken’ like it's letting up, but don’t trust it.”

“Right,” You nod. You know what he really means.

Gaz is watching you and sending quick glances to Soap with his dark eyes, and you see the Scot clenching his stick with a white-knuckled grip – blue eyes glaring at the table with a clenched jaw and tensing biceps. Like he was itching to lay someone on the ground and wale on them.

Your lips twitch. Soap had been by your side for four months; watching your back just as you had his. That creates a bond of brotherhood that can’t be overlooked. The stocky man was perhaps more upset about this ordeal than you were, now that you thought about it. The Task Force didn’t even know the extent of your fights with Leon – they’d kill him if they did. 

If you even mentioned your Grandma’s lamp, the boys would rip your Ex apart. 

“Suds,” Calling out, you fold John’s jacket over your arm. Soap whips his head to you, blinking back to focus.

“Yeah, Little Lady. You need something?”

“I need you to stop strangling the Cue Stick. You’re gonna break it before Simon can beat you, and that would just be embarrassing,” Soap stares at you, mouth slightly open, before he snaps to his iron grip and unclenches his hand. 

“R-right,” The Scot’s eyes crease, and he itches at his mohawk with his free hand. A pause, “Are you…alright?”

You hesitate, looking to the floor as your feet shuffle before your right yourself, “I will be.” 

Turning to John, you hold out your arm and feel heat on the tips of your ears when he’s already meeting your line of sight.

“Sorry about the water,” Trying not to let out a weak chuckle, you fail, “It looked pretty expensive just to be ruined by me. I’ll pay you for the dry cleaning bill.”

Price grunts, already shaking his head and lightly gripping you by the arm to push the jacket back to you. He stands up and you suck in a quick breath, nose nearly brushing his peck from how close you both were.

“You’ll need it,” Your eyebrows crease, not understanding, as he smirks at you, “What kind of Captain would I be if I let you drive back alone after all this?” John grumbles, shaking his head and pulling out his wallet, “I’m driven’ that’s an order.” 

He tosses a fifty on the table for the bill and nods to the boys over your head, an authoritative tone leaking out. You don’t move away from him, letting his body heat leave you shivering and taking in shallow breaths. Try as you might, your mouth denies to refuse him.

“Be back on Base by 0100 and up for drills at 0500. It’s your fault if you Muppets only get five hours of sleep,” John lays a hand behind your shoulder blades and you let him guide you to the door, “Soap – you’re due for debriefs at 0800 in my office. I expect you to be punctual.”

A quiet grunt carries over the space.

You slip on the jacket, clearly seeing that John wouldn’t let up on this. Maybe…maybe you wouldn’t mind the company of the large-bodied Captain. Already the pain of being cheated on was dull when he was around. But would you be able to focus if he was right by you like this? You doubted it.

Slapping Gaz on the shoulder as you pass him, he sends you a soft look and utters, “Get some sleep, Love, alright? It’ll all be better in the morning. I’ll make sure the boys are back at Base soon so you don’t have to worry about ‘em.”

“Thanks, Garrick. Means a lot. I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“You bet.”

“Behave, Sergeant,” John makes it to the door, opening it for you and feeling the draft enter, “Ghost,” The manchester man tilts his covered head from where he stands bent over the pool table, “watch these two, yeah?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hey–!” 

“What in the–!” 

Price lets the door slam shut and whispers past your smile-split face, watching through the window as Soap and Gaz level offended gazes out at the Captain through the racing raindrops on the glass. Simon stands a bit straighter and once again scores on Johnny. 

“They’re going to hold a grudge for weeks, John. Putting Ghost in charge of them when they’re on leave? Really? He’s never going to let the two live it down,” You say above the rain as you lead him to where your car is parked on the street, cheekiness littering your words.

“Let ‘em,” Price scoffs, and you feel his hands go to the jacket, puffing the collar up for you. Blinking away the rain, you smile shyly at the action, “not goin’ to change that they still have to get up tomorrow. After a twenty-mile run, I’m sure they’ll be too knackered to care, eh?”

“Hm,” You affirm, envisioning the future in your head with sadistic pleasure, and reach into your pocket. Tossing your keys into the air, John catches them effortlessly with a fast fist, only a small clink of the metal connecting heard.  

You feel his eyes on you as you walk down the street, steadying you with a hand on your back even if he knew you were capable of walking by yourself. Above all, John was a gentleman – whenever you were with him, he always walked near the road, kept a hand in the small of your back, and watched the street with roaming eyes.

This was the first time you’d felt his gaze completely set on you. Had he always done that? No, you knew, but recalled something from the back of your mind as you side-stepped a puddle, moving closer to John unconsciously. His hand’s weight becomes more prominent, angling you into his hold. 

After Madagascar was when he had started looking at you more often...you had thought it was because of the injury, but was it?

Shaking away the thought, you quickly make it to your car and leave Price’s steady side, hand resting on the handle. The familiar sound of the lock clicking open has you rushing inside to escape the pitter-patter of rain on your skull. Snapping the door shut, John in the driver’s seat does the same.

You both look at each other, and can’t help the chuckles at the disheveled looks you both share.

“Wind-swept hair would look dashing on you, Captain,” You tease, nose crinkling as you shake your head. The beanie on the man’s head was weighed down and John grimaces at the feeling, glaring up at it before peeling it off his head. 

His free hand goes to his hair, ruffling it to dispel some of the water. 

“Bloody rain,” He mutters, sparing you a look only to find you’re watching intently with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

A tension grows, and for the first time, you don’t push the feeling away. Your smirk slowly slips, going slack as you watch water drip from John’s nose. The world outside the car seems to blur, and nothing but the pair of you exist in this state of perpetual stillness. John’s eyes are such a shade of blue you have to wonder if you could ever look at the ocean again and not think of him, or even smell smoke on the street and not search him out. 

You shouldn’t be feeling like this about him, but how could you not?

“You’re staring, Love,” John mutters, and you blink, shocked, but the man makes no move to stop looking right back at you in turn. His beard shifts as his jaw moves, bristles accented by the light of the street lamps.

“Well, so are you,” Teasing, you send a nervous smile before shifting away to clip your seatbelt in place. 

His hand stops you halfway, covering your own with a large grip as his fingers glide over your skin leaving white-hot sparks. Freezing you watch as Price’s hand squeezes yours and helps you lock the seatbelt into the clip. The man’s hand stays there a moment longer as you, wide-eyed, feel your fingers twitch under his; memorizing the feel of them.

“Thank you, John,” You breathe, and your grip moves, turning to capture his own and curl his fingers into yours. He flinches, before loosening and he studies your face, cerulean blue jumping from one spot on your visage to another, “For everything.” 

The man’s body stills and he blinks down at you. His breath is shallow, rattling in his chest. Something was in his eyes you couldn’t name.

“...Anytime, Dear.”

Price’s hand falls from your hold and leaves to gravitate toward the keys in the ignition. He twists them, and immediately the shaking of the car tells you it’ll survive one more day. Settling farther into John’s jacket you nuzzle your head into the fabric, curling your arms around your middle and resting your eyes. You try to calm your raging heart as the car peels out into the road, breathing through the stuffy air that smells so much like the two of you.

The ride to Base is quiet, but not at all like the kind of silence that had suffocated you on the journey back to Leon’s home – this was a comforting silence. Once you might not have understood what that meant. After all, how could a lack of sound leave your eyelids heavy and a floating feeling in your head? 

When the parking garage gate opened, you had blinked awake. 

Did I fall asleep? Rubbing at your eyes, the crick in the back of your neck told you all you needed to know. Groaning, a small chuckle to your side leaves you turning to face John, who carefully drives down the ramp as you swallow down the dryness of your throat. 

“Sleep well?” He raises an eyebrow, observing out ahead of him.

You scoff in retaliation and don’t answer as John picks a free spot and parks.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” Your ears twitch at his low tone and the rumble like a lullaby in his chest. Was he trying to put you back to sleep?

He gets out of the car and goes to your side as you continue to wake up, opening the door and unclipping your seatbelt. 

“Steady,” John whispers, taking your hand and helping you out as your yawn, “I’ll give your keys back tomorrow afternoon, eh? You’ll lose ‘em like last time if I hand ‘em over to ya’ now.”

“Will not,” You retaliate, stumbling over nothing and causing your face to heat when John smiles, eyes crinkling in a tease.

“Will…You’ll get them back tomorrow. That’s that,” Grumbling, you huff but stay by his side as you both go to the main entrance, sliding past the door and nodding to the guard posted for watch duty. 

“Captain, Ma’am,” The guard greets and a second later you’re both striding down the dimmed hallways with John sending you glances every so often.

“What is it, Captain?” Asking after it becomes too prominent to ignore, you send him a small smile, “I know I look like shit but I can’t be that bad to the point you have to ogle me.” 

John’s face snaps forward and he clears his throat, hands going to slide into his pockets. You pull his jacket closer, eyes turning to silk. 

He’s cute when he’s flustered.

“...Just makin’ sure you’re not going to pass out before you get back to your Barracks,” He blinks, and a blush hidden under his beard makes his ears turn red. You notice with a start that he had left his soggy hat in your car and that his messy hair made him look like he had gotten into a catfight. It was…an attractive look on him, to say the least, “...and you don’t look like shite, Sweetheart. You’re a beauty no matter what happens. Don’t say that about yourself.”

Your breath catches, and in that moment of struggling to breathe, you can only let out a tiny, “Oh, o-okay,” and try to walk straight as butterflies litter your stomach. 

Did…did he call me beautiful? John called me beautiful.

A true, giddy, smile flickers over your lips even as you try to force it down; and just as simple as that, any hurt that Leon had left behind disappears. Everything is replaced by John’s large frame, blue eyes, and grunted words.  

You get to your room and open the door, standing in the opening with dizzy thoughts. Turning around with a content expression, you’re forced to take a deep breath when your nose almost connects with a firm chest. Standing straighter, you snap your head up to find John towering above you, body heat melting into you and causing a reactionary shiver.

“John…?” You ask, head straining to stare at his down-turned face. Something lies hidden behind his eyes, flashing every so often as his gaze narrows. It was the same look as the one in the car, “What are you…?” His lips are thin, and something swirls in your gut when you see how his muscles tense. He’s holding something back.

If you moved any closer your breasts would brush against him, and under your water-heavy sweatshirt, your nipples harden at the idea.

Stop it, You warn yourself, but when he’s looking at you like that – bathed in the hallway light with wrecked hair and widened pupils – you can’t help the way your body reacts to his. Not anymore. 

Leon was gone.

“You mind if I come in, Darling?” Your Captain’s raspy voice sings to your heart, pulse skipping a beat, “Wouldn’t want you to be alone right now, understand me?” 

Taking a shallow breath, your hands at your sides start shaking, subtle actions making it all the more apparent of the growing fire. 

You should say no. Tell him it wasn’t appropriate. But…there was no hiding the attraction you had for Price, not when your boyfriend was out of the picture. You should be mourning the lost relationship of your high school sweetheart, not just hopping into another confusing situation with your fucking superior! 

Frowning, your shoulders hunch. If you said yes – which you really wanted to – that was the final signature on your self-respect and dignity. It would mean a whole stack of paperwork and many late nights. You could lose your job, get John kicked off the Task Force and demoted, the list was endless. 

“Your thoughts are too loud,” Price comments, and he smiles down at you as your eyes widen, tension leaking away as you focus on his words like law, “It’ll be alright. You can say no if you want. You know that. It won’t hurt me.”

But it would, wouldn’t it, because it would hurt you too.

It was more than what was on the surface – the tension in the car that had festered ever since Madagascar told you already what would happen if you let him in. This had been the result of a number of years of pinning building one day after another into a mountain of need and lust. But there had always been a barrier in the way. Leon.

But Leon was gone now; where did that leave you with this stone in your stomach and a want to be with a man you now knew wanted you back?

And John was still giving you an out if you wanted it. A layered warning that this wasn’t the smartest decision for either of you. 

“John,” You breathe, “I shouldn’t.”

“No, you shouldn’t. Neither should I.” 

So that was ultimately why you grabbed his shirt, dragged him into your room, and finally smashed your lips to his. 

John’s arms immediately wrap around your body and peel back his jacket from your form, kicking the door behind him closed so hard the wall rattles. You help, letting him grab the cuff and rip it off as your lips dance in needy kisses that leave your teeth clacking together and air falling from fast breaths. 

His tongue runs over your lip and you open your mouth readily, not caring about how the floor’s going to form a puddle from the soaked jacket or the other water-clogged clothes when they inevitably hit the floor as well. John’s kiss was so intoxicating that when you first felt his hands steady you around your waist you pulled back in surprise, a trail of saliva leaving the two of you connected before it broke. 

“John, we shouldn’t,” You say, breathless as air is sucked back into your red, shiny, lips. It was useless trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t what you wanted since you met him. Maybe Leon was right. Maybe you had been cheating this entire time. A traitorous, cheating, heart.

“No, we shouldn’t,” John growls out, accent far more prominent at that moment than ever before as his eyes darken; boring into your tissue to peel back the layers of your mind until all that remains is him. His lips were so red and shiny you wanted to bite them, “But I couldn’t bloody give a damn.” 

His face once more slammed into yours, and one hand travels to the back of your head, firm. But, if you wished for it, it would leave in a millisecond and you could pull away without a word. All of this could end in a second and John or yourself would never bring it up again; forgetting the unprofessionalism and the way your body reacted to the swipe of his tongue over yours. The sounds you two were making were enough to make you cum right there – the panting, wet kissing. It was improper, dirty, but, beyond all of that…utterly addicting. How high he made you feel needed to be studied, you reasoned, no one could be like this. 

Your hands snapped to his chest and you dig your nails into his shirt, dragging down and feeling his body jolt and squirm. John’s hand on your head tightened as you devoured each other, weaving into your hair as your fingers fall to latch onto his side, feeling the muscle tense and the man groan into your gasping mouth. His pelvis thrusts involuntarily, hitting your thigh.

The way he shutters against you leaves your legs rubbing firmly together as a pounding echoes in your navel. John drags you closer to him.

It seemed you made your decision, but you had a funny feeling you won’t regret it.

Heaving like a wounded animal, John peels back to twist you around, back connecting with the wall as his lips immediately hook onto your neck, saliva dripping down your pulse point in a long, slick, path. A wanton whimper leaves when you feel his beard scrape over your sensitive skin, leaving sparks in its wake that travel directly to your lower body. Using his right foot, the man shoves your legs apart, where you had them previously clenched together and pooling in hot, contained, desire.

“Don’t worry, Love,” He whispers, biting at your ear as your eyes flutter when he slides his thigh in between your splayed legs. You can’t help the loud moan you make when he snaps the thick portion of him up into your core and even through your pants you feel the instinctual, animalistic, urge to roll your pelvis. Fuck, you wanted to ride his thigh, come undone while he watched with those unwavering blues of his, “I’ll take care of you. Make you forget all about that poor bastard. Bloody prick doesn’t even know what he’s lost, but I nearly should thank him for it, yeah?”

“John,” You don’t know what you want, mind a hazy mess as one of your hands snaps to his head just like how he held yours and pulled at the strands tightly. Are you drunk? You feel drunk?

His hand on your thigh forces you to press down into his knee as he grunts in approval of your deteriorating state when you writhe with pleasure at the sensation.

“That idiot just gave me the best damn woman he ever could. Fucken’ fool, he is,” He’s muttering into your ear, head pressed into the wall, as your self-respect flies out the window at his next words, “I’ll fuck you better than he did, Love. C’mon, use me like I’ve wanted you to,” Your hips rut over the substitute for his dick with desperation to stimulate your needy clit, head rocking to the side in a heavy trace of puffing breaths. 

Already the room was heating up, beginning to lose the scent of cinnamon from your old candle and reeking of sweat and carnal urgency.

“Just like that,” John whispers, words slow as the sensation of his tongue licking a stripe over your skin makes you pant and keen. Small jolts of pleasure run from the hard bud hidden behind wet layers, “Steady…Keep your head still.”

He goes back to leaving hickeys on your neck, and through your haze, you know he’s not thinking about how you’ll have to try and hide them tomorrow. John wants people to see the love bites, how they bruise purple and blue all over your throat and under your ear. He lays one on the junction of your shoulder and neck, and your eyes roll at the caress of a hot tongue and immediate sharp teeth digging into flesh a moment later; shuttering.

You hope he leaves some beard burn behind.

That's when you rip his head away by gripping his hair like a vise and then slam it into yours, shoving your tongue so far down his throat you listen to his chest rattle with shock at the action. 

His knee jerks up, and you gasp with nerves that sizzle with lighting and a pool of slick in your core that leaks like a river before a strained plea is said into John’s maw, “Do that again.”

Your Captain doesn’t say anything, but his body shakes with need before doing what you ask. You could feel how hard he was through his pants as the weight digs into your stomach. The knowledge that you would get to feel him inside of you, stretching you open, served to confirm the fact that you would have to throw these panties away tomorrow. 

God, he felt huge, thick, and firm.

John begins to jump his knee up and down, jolting your body as he pulls back to watch with awe at your body’s reaction; setting his forehead against yours. Whining, your back arches, and your shoes brush against the ground every other motion. Every movement sends your nerves alight. It was almost too much – oversensitivity threatening to pull you under with every perfectly angled jumping of your Captain’s knee. 

You slick was staining his pants, completely soaking all layers. 

“Fuck, look at you work, Love,” John was entranced as you got off on him, “Can’t believe that Bastard was getting this when you came back. See how soaked you’ve made me? Shit. Bloody temptress, you are.”

“Need you,” Your lips gasp out, legs shaking violently, “F-fingers. Inside. A-anything! Been wanting you for so long, John.” It was difficult to speak and focus on the pleasure at the same time, but you think he got the point. 

Your pants were too tight, clothes grating to feel on your flesh. You want John’s hands on you. Now. 

“Hm, what’s that?” Price grunts, still watching you move your clothed cunt against him with added fever. 

Annoyance swirls.

“John,” Your mouth snarls, and his face shifts to look back up at you, noses squished together as you breathly sigh at another well-angled jump. Price’s chest rumbles with satisfaction, “Fuck me like how you stroke your cock to the thought of me.”

A moment of shocked silence at your vulgar language.

“Copy.” At once his knee is gone, and you’re squeaking as he grabs you by the waist and the world spins and dances around you. 

John tosses you over his shoulder and the tension in your lower abdomen that had been building turns from a boil to a simmer. You’re about to complain before fingers begin working your shoe laces, tossing the boots off as the man strides to the bed in the corner. 

He lays a heavy slap to your ass that makes you yelp out and hit his back in return. The sparks left behind make your legs clench and your stomach tighten; your hands tear into his back. John chuckles, smoothing over the spot before his grip travels, grabbing onto the waistband of your cargo’s. Ripping them down to your ankles, you moan at the sudden cool air on your cunt and shutter. Anticipation pools to produce a second pulse inside of you, getting louder and more ruthless by the second.

You were so horny it physically hurt to have his grip on you and not inside of you. 

John tosses you to the bed and watches your tits as you bounce on the mattress, looking up at him with black-consumed eyes and a euphoric expression. He wastes no time – the man shucks off his boots and grips his belt with a veiny hand, ripping it from his pants and tossing it to the side. You had the best view of the large tent in his pants, violently straining the fabric in a way your hand can’t stop itself from clenching into the bed sheets. 

“Touch yourself for me, Love, let me see you work that cunt of yours before I eat you out, yeah?” 

Licking your lips, you moan, “Yes, Sir.” 

“Ah, look at my good girl, listens so well to her Captain,” Your fingers aren’t as long or as thick as his are, so they can't do much as you slip them under your underwear and play with your weeping slit as you clench at the comment.

Your fourth and fifth fingers enter you, and your thumb presses into your stiff clit, moving in a tight circle as you stare into John’s eyes. Involuntarily, your lower body rocks in a steady motion as your eyes drink in the man and his heaving lungs... 

You want him naked. 

“Bloody Fucken’ hell,” Price throws off his shirt, and palms at his erection through his pants as his dog tags hit against his scarred and formed chest. 

The sharp ‘V’ of his lower abdomen immediately draws your eyes downwards over the impressive physique, a trail of small dark hairs going lower and lower just to be shielded by the rough material of his pants. John’s skin glistens with sweat, and you want to lick it off of him. If possible, you get even wetter.

You smirk, hips jerking as you send a heavier motion on your nerve bundle; head rolling to the side and mouth opening as you feel yourself tighten around your fingers. That knot was returning, forming as you curl your digits in your slick heat, making your eyelids flutter.  

When you open them again and force them to stay still, you find a heavenly sight beside you. Your eyes widen, and your slit tightens so violently your movements stutter and struggle like a noose had been tightened around your neck. The lungs inside of you gasp.

John’s pants and boxers were gone, leaving nothing on him besides his tags that clink and clatter as he jerks himself off at the sight of you. His sizable dick was red at the tip, lit with fire as precum dribbled out and splatted to the mattress right by your free hand – which clenches the sheets so hard you faintly hear a tear as your ears twitch. But your eyes don’t leave the magnificent sight in front of you watching like a hawk as John’s abdominal muscles tighten with every twisted motion of his hand. 

He was so violent with himself, the exact opposite of how you were playing with your own body. That wasn’t to say the image was anything but fuel to the fire, though.

You whimper and writhe, wrist burning and palm completely soaked with natural lube. 

“Ruining the show, Dear,” The tendon in Price’s neck flares, and a bead of sweat falls down his peck. Inside your sweatshirt, your breasts ache to be squeezed and abused.

Not processing his words for a moment, you pause your fast breaths to let out a high-pitched sound of confusion.

John doesn’t answer, because he moves his free hand and grips your panties, which stretch over your ministrations. He tears them down your thighs, and his touch is like a drug. 

“There we go, Princess. Now I can see that pretty cunt of yours.” Keening at the praise, your back lightly arches from the bed, watching John continue to work himself and matching his pace, imagining him inside of you instead of your fingers, “You like that, yeah? You like when I speak to you like that, dirty girl?”

You bite into your lip, knot so tight you want to grab a pair of scissors and cut it before it tears you up. Fuck, you were so close, the erotic sounds of the both of you fucking yourselves are so wet it increases the pleasure spiking your veins.

A wet hand snaps to your wrist stopping you just seconds away from a release. 

Gasping out in shocked desperation, your mouth releases a strangled plea of, “No, John, please.”

“Answer me when I speak to you,” You stare at your Captain’s bearded face as his hand keeps a heavy weight on your skin. He tears your fingers out of you and keeps them away from your core as you try and ferally move them back. John’s jaw is clenched – he holds you with the hand he was touching himself with not a second before, and you tense at the thought, “I asked you a question, Princess. I expect an answer if you want to cum.”

Tears of desperation form in your ducts. You were so close, but now the sensation was leaving again. 

“Yes!” You yell, voice high, “Yes, John I like it when you tell me how good I am! It gets me wet for you… m-my cunt fucking needs you in it, please! I need you to fucking ruin me, Captain! I want your dick stretching me open like–”

His lips silence your rant, shoving the back of your head into the pillow and moving his body to shadow above yours. The action leaves you moaning so loud at the sensation of his athletic body you forgot the walls were thin and that you were sounding like you were in a pornographic film. 

John smirks above you and replaces your fingers with his own, making your legs shake and twitch at the sensation of his callouses against your walls and his large digits burning as they enter you. He thrusts quickly, sopping wetness quickly making it easy, and the pleasure increases.

“Just had to say yes, Love,” His cock jumps and you feel it brush your lower abdomen, so painfully close but not quite. The man’s dog tags connect right above your face, swinging back and forth as he moves.

You gasp when his fingers curl, squelching echoes over the breathy chants of his name that you release. 

“Look at how fucken’ wet you are,” John praises you, and your walls flutter, as he watches his fingers move in and out of you, “Gotta’ get a taste of that, Love…Take off your top for me so I can see those pretty tits bounce.” 

Fuck you were on fire.

Your shaking limbs don't hesitate, hands snapping to throw the sweatshirt and your bra from you without a coherent thought in your brain. Completely bare before him, John’s expression darkens and swirls with lust. His fingers leave you and he moves down the mattress, leaving back on his knees and grabbing your thighs. Your chest heaves with adrenaline and bare need. This was better than any gunbattle – more thrilling than a training session, and far better than anything Leon had done to you. 

John was focused on you. Entirely. The man was forsaking his own painfully erect cock just to go down on you; to taste your wetness like it was nectar. 

Price hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, and your ankle digs into his back to bring him closer to your cunt. 

“Easy there, Princess. I’ll give you what you need,” His breath spreads over your slit, and your hips jerk before his hand splays over your navel, thumb just brushing your throbbing clit. You try to buck again, whining, “Steady.”

He stares at your face as his tongue goes down to kitten licks your pussy, beard bristles poking your skin and leaving the flesh lit like a glowing ember.

“John!” You moan, and one of your hands snaps to your breast, squeezing as John explores your body, groaning deeply as he collects your slick on his tongue. 

The man’s thumb goes to run circles around your nerve bundle, stimulating you as your body tries to move under his tight grip. But he has you under a tight rope, and the pleasure of it was nearly like being electrocuted over and over again. Your leg over his shoulder traps him there – eating you out like a man starved as his own hips begin to careen into the mattress. The pleasure of seeing you reduced to a blubbering mess that can only chant his name did primitive things to John’s mind. 

And the way you were playing with your breasts…? Fuck, he was addicted to you; the way your body was perfect enough to devour.

John moans into your cunt, the vibrations biting every corner as the tension begins to shatter inside of you when his fingers go to assist his tongue. Your back arches as the muscle and digits work in tandem, pace increasing as the Captain curls over that perfect, spongy, spot that leaves tears falling down the side of your face.

“Fuck, just like that!” You wail, fingers flickering over your hardened nipple, “J-John just like that!”

The words were slurred, coming off as drunk as his beard leaves skin red and scraped on the inside of your thighs. Your cunt tightens, walls closing in around John’s tireless lapping and fingering. His thumb on your clit moves faster, and he lets your hips careen into his face over and over again as his large nose bumps against that same spot. 

Tension builds and builds like an infection, and your free hand snaps to grip your Captain's hair, jerking his face farther into you and ruthlessly twisting the locks.

John whimpers into your slit, cock stuttering in its harsh rutting into the mattress, and your eyes erupt into stars, white light blowing up as your release makes time stand still. 

Gutturally moaning into the hot air, you pant as you come down just to feel a tongue cleaning up your thighs, slurping up cum, and playing around with your sensitive flesh. Fingers still pump inside of you, helping you ride out anything that’s left.

You can’t speak beyond small whimpers and gasps at the movement, but when you look down you’re met with John’s ruined face.

His entire beard was stained, dripping cum down onto your navel as he licks at your clit once. Your hips jerk and you cry in protest at the oversensitivity of the abused area, eyes fluttering.

“Just as I thought,” John’s voice is velvet, dripping just like his beard and nose do as he licks his lips with a demented sucking noise “Boody perfect, doll. Could eat that cunt for hours, just to see you squirm when I’m fucken’ you with my tongue. Better than Whisky.” 

You swallow as his hands caress your thighs, the grip traveling as his body slides up yours. His cock is heavy and leaking as it slides over your drenched slit. Thrusting up into it, the both of you gasp out. John lays drenched kisses all over your sweat-drowned body, leaving a trail of saliva and cum behind him as his own slots over you perfectly. 

“Speak to me,” He groans, and your fingers still in his locks lightly pull as he pushes your still hand over your breast away with his nose. His hot mouth latches onto your nipple and sucks before laying a deep bite around it. 

Writhing, he continues his expiration as a bead of sweat falls down your neck to pool at your bitten collarbone. John licks it up and continues like it’s nothing.

“F-feels good,” Is all you can say, not used to this type of treatment, “R-really good, Captain.”

“Yeah?” He sounds cheeky as his head pulls up to be above yours, hands pressing into the pillow beside your head, “Hm, think my Bird can take a cock? Want me opening that lovely cunt of yours up?”

Your heart pounds, hairs standing on end. The words were so vulgar, but you feel your arousal increase. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Y-yes, Captain.”

John lays a gentle kiss on your bruised lips, and you taste your own release as he sighs into your mouth; connecting your foreheads together when he pulls away. 

“I want your eyes on me the whole time, yeah?” He grunts, one hand going to grab at himself as he shivers above you. Chest bursting with anticipation, your free hand goes to intertwine its fingers with John’s beside your head – the other still gripping his hair, “I wanna see the way you lose yourself on me.”

You can’t answer before he’s filling you up.

Your eyes widen at the stretch, embers of pain bordering on the ledge of pleasure as the man pauses at your expression, going to play with your clit. On your face, your nose scrunches, hesitance floating in your orbs as you let out tight breaths even as his finger does wonders.

“S’alright,” John whispers to you, squeezing your hand and feeling the mewls your lips let out at the sensation of deep callouses, “I’ll be careful, Love. You can take me. Breathe.” Muttering paise as his cerulean blues bore into you, he resumes moving. 

How could you even fit him all inside of you? The tip already burned to take so far into your womb.

But you were plenty wet, the squelching sound resumed, and John tilted his head down to see the way he disappeared inside your cunt like magic. Your thighs have to move farther up his own to help, one locking around his waist as a ring of milky liquid forms over the joining.

The man’s eyes widen when he spies the bulge forming in your lower body, the indent popping out like a hole that’s been repacked with too much dirt. For the final last push, the man forces himself to look away and back up at you – he wants to see how you react. But at the last seconds, John’s eyes roll back into his head when he finally hits the base, a throaty groan mixing with your high-pitched moan as he bottoms out. Your chest flutters against his, and both of your hearts are going so fast they can be seen through your flesh.

You were so full, stretching around him so wide it was a miracle you hadn’t torn something. Both of your stay there for a moment, feeling your walls spasm around him and panting. Sweat falls from Price’s chin, splashing to your skin as your eyelids threaten to close at the stranger inhabiting your most sensitive area. It felt so good.

Your mind completely blanks, eyes glazing over with rapture at the feeling of John’s cock curving so far into you that you know he’ll push into your cervix when he moves. Every minute movement – even the deep breath John takes to steady himself – leaves you needing stimulation as the veins of his dick press into your soft walls.

“M-move, please,” Your numb lips flutter, and John’s eyes open from above you, jaw clenched and one orb more squinted than the other. 

“Yes, Ma’am,” He whispers, expression soft as your hand in his hair tightens to ground yourself. 

John begins slowly, letting you get used to him and the burning that he brings to your insides when he retracts and re-enters. His thrusts are measured, at first.

“Such a good girl,” He says above you, and your eyes refocus, body loosening as your form gradually adapts. But you were right, he’s hitting every corner of you as easily as he breathes. So thick it's like nothing you've ever felt. Your hips are canting up to meet his shallowly, but John does most of the work. He wants to. He wants to please you like Leon never could, to treat you right, “Taken’ me so well. See you grippin’ me, Dear…t-that’s it,'' Your pussy throbs, and you feel him move a little faster, “You’re gettn’ it down, eh? There’s that pretty little face of yours – all screwed up ‘cause of me. Hm, don’t go cock-drunk on me yet, Lovely.” 

“John,” Is what you chant as he begins to fuck you in earnest, pelvis slamming into you as you feel him brush your cervix, “Oh, John.”

“That’s it,” He pants and angles his thrusts up. The action makes you yowl, head tossing back as Price goes to bite into your neck again, dog tags cold against your skin, “There’s that sweet spot, yeah?”

He hits it every single time, marksmanship training telling him to keep attacking the most important part; tears blur your wide sight, back arching as his hand at your clit goes to hike your leg farther up his waist, the limb uselessly flying out behind his back. The deep press of his blunt nails into the flesh adds to the overstimulation, and you can’t keep up if you tried. Too pleasure drunk, you let him do what he wants, as long as you can feel his veiny cock hitting that spongy spot again. His dick thrusts into you with such devotion, ringing out pleasure like how one does to a rag.

“Fuck…” He muttered into your neck, “Won’t last long with you squeezing me like that. You’re so bloody tight.”

The snake was coiling in your gut, tail rattling as John throbs inside of your heat, moving over your skin like he was water over a rock. Loosening your hand from his hair, your nails go to dig into the fletch of his back, raking down his spine as he growls under you; sending a sharp thrust up that has you seeing sparks in your vision. It was building so quickly you couldn’t properly speak, only moan and wail and wine.

You were sure your nails were biting into his skin, leaving long red scratches behind as some sick form of proof. Maybe they were even drawing blood. A sadistic part of you wanted them too. 

“C-close,” Your gasp enters the thick air as your legs shake. John bites your earlobe, lifting his head from your skin to look at you from the side of his blown eyes. 

“W-where do you want it, Love?” He gasps, his beard scraping your skin until it’s raw. You hoped you had lotion in the bathroom for tomorrow, “C’mon gotta tell me before I lose myself.”

“Inside!” You yell, not even knowing what you’re saying anymore. If you did a part of you would have died from embarrassment. The man’s eyes snap fully to yours, widening; you feel his body shaking above you, hands clenching too tightly around your thigh and embrace as the flesh turns a different shade, “Please, Captain, fill me up. I wanna feel you dripping out of me for days! Please, I need your cum! Please, please…”

Price only sputters for a second before he begins to move like a man possessed. He pistons into you with heated movements and you gasp out in response, not sure how much more you could take but please don’t stop it feels so good. So, so, good when you move like that. Fill me with your seed.

“Made for me, you were,” John growls, ferally kissing you as you try to do the same back as he relentlessly pounds away, “I said it before, bloody fucken’ perfect. Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need. Make you so full of me you’ll be leaking all over the damned sheets.” 

The coil snaps and you clench around Price’s cock so hard he moans into your mouth as you do the same. 

“Fuck..!” His hips jerk one more time before he spills into you, hot spurts of his seed coating your walls and leaking out of the ring you two had made. 

Shaking, John lets you ride it out as he continues to shakily thrust into you, but it isn’t long before he has to stop and his dick softens inside of you. After a moment of violent deep breaths, he has to shift, exiting from your reddened and leaking hole. Shuttering at the feeling of his ridges once more leaving, the foreign emptiness finally settles into your bones, you feel his cum pooling from you to collect on the mattress; your lower skin feels wet to the touch as the liquid follows the lines of your body and sticks to every part available. 

Lungs desperate for air, your body heaves and shivers; your eyes stay locked onto the ceiling above you, where you wished the metal was the same shade of blue as John’s eyes. You didn’t even notice the man himself had gone into your bathroom to receive a damp rag to clean you up until the rough material was leaving you flinching away from it. 

“Careful now,” John speaks lowly, and you hear his dog tags below you as he swipes at your folds. Your eyelashes flutter, legs tensing, “Need to clean you up.” 

He lays a kiss on your knee and continues for a few minutes, muttering compliments and kind words that you miss as your ears ring; he cleans your combined fluids from your spent cunt delicately, completely different from how he was abusing it a short while ago.

John leaves, and when he returns a second time, he slips into the bed in front of you, taking the wrecked covers and arranging you carefully so you were covered by them.

A moment of hot pressing bodies passes, and your head is pressed into the man’s raging chest, drawn back to consciousness by his heart when he shifts, “...Didn’t hurt you, did I, Love?”

“Hm,” You groan, and moving your legs results in needles digging into the fine tissue, “No. But you’re going to be carrying me tomorrow.” 

Your Captain has the audacity to laugh, his hand going to rest on your ass, rubbing the skin as he draws you closer.

“Wanted to do that for a long time, Y’know,” He whispers, laying kisses to your hair, “Long time.”

“Me too,” You admit, sighing as your eyes flutter shut, “Since Madagascar, I think.” 

John lightly flinches, “Madagascar?” It’s a question, but he already knows the answer, “What about…”

He trails.

“Leon?” You ask and Price grunts, knocking his nose down into your scalp as he draws circles into your skin. He didn’t like you saying that man’s name, “I think I wanted to break up with him…finding him with someone else just gave me an easy out, I guess,” You think over the event. Had you been relieved slightly? Perhaps, but it was easier to tell now than earlier, “It was just…”

Stopping you hum, and turn your head to lay a kiss on a scar on John’s chest in your vicinity.

“Easier.” 

It’s not a question your Captain poses, it's a statement.

“Less complicated, yeah.” He breathes a sigh into your hair and fatigue leaves your lids falling quickly.

“We’ll talk more in the morning,” John mutters, “Copy?”

You don’t answer, because you’ve already fallen to sleep, body bruised and yet feeling far better than you had in years. John wanted to be with you, Leon was out of the picture – it was all turning up. But there was still that part of you that ached with betrayal, that bled when you poked at it with a finger; a wounded heart would do that. It bleeds for a bit.

Though, you knew John would be there with a bandage, to put pressure on the wound and catch the spills. Maybe that was selfish, but maybe you had a right to be for a little while. Your Captain certainly didn’t seem to mind. 

John fell asleep quickly after, content for possibly the first time in years. He gets to hold you in his arms and wake up with you right by his side, even if the paperwork was going to be atrocious.

There was no doubt people had heard them, but it wasn’t like the Captain cared. 

—

“Little Lady?” The knock wasn’t what woke you, John did. Looking up at him, he holds a finger to his lips and has a pleading look on his face. You raise a brow, about to go back to sleep before Soap’s voice makes you freeze, “I know you’re in there – you wouldn’t happn’ to have a clue where Price is, would you? Man missed the debriefing.” 

Your wide eyes stay locked with Johns, Maybe If I don’t answer he’ll go a–

“That’s it, I'm coming in!” 

“Wait!” 

But the door was already opening – John hadn’t locked it, too caught up in the stupor of finally getting you into his arms and wetting his dick. 

“...Steamn’ bloody Jesus!” Screaming and a quick rustling can be heard echoing out into the hallway, “...Well, well, well, Cap finally got the girl, did he? Bout’ time, I’d say! Tell me, now, how good was he in bed for an old man?” 

“Stop lookn’ at her, you Muppet! I’ll hang you by the fucke–” 

“How can’t I – her fucken’ tits are out and you’re about a bawhair away from her! Where else am I supposed to look, man?” 

“Out!” 

Soap rushes out, smiling wider than anything with gleaming eyes before stumbling and nearly careening into the wall as John Price rushes after, face red and snarling. The Captain had nothing more than a wrinkled, thin, standard white bed sheet around his tapered waist with dog tags fastened around his neck. 

John’s clenched hand connects with the door frame and the rageful man leans out down the hall and yells, “When I find you, MacTavish, It’s your fucken’ neck under a goddamned rope! You hear me, Sergeant?! Your fucken’ neck!”

Vibrating laughter can be heard from the figure already disappearing down the corner of the woman’s Barracks.

“Wait till the boys hear about this!”

The door closes so loudly behind John that the wide-eyed bystanders in the hallway miss the lock being clicked into place with savage fingers. But the loud, chest-tightening, feminine laughter that forms moments later is none the clearer.  

Well, secret’s out. 

[lev1hei1chou]

Caught

Dad!Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Words: 551 Synopsis: Gojo lies about his location Masterlist

The latest mission had been really intense, adrenaline-fueled, and downright exhausting. But for you, the thought of finally getting home to your little family kept you going. With a quick check-in, you called Satoru, hoping to hear the comforting sound of your husband's voice and perhaps a few adorable ramblings from your little child.

"Hey, babe, how's it going?" you greeted Gojo over the phone, hoping to hear the familiar warmth in his voice.

"Hey there baby, everything's good here. Just putting C/N to bed," Gojo replied casually.

Relief washed over you. "Oh, that's great! I miss you guys so much. I can't wait to get home."

"Yeah, we miss you too," Gojo said, his voice slightly distracted.

You frowned. "Are you sure everything's okay? You sound a bit off."

"No, love, everything's fine. We're just here, at home, all rolled up and cozy in bed," Gojo reassured, his tone a tad too chipper.

"Well alright then! I'll see you guys soon. Love you."

Something didn't add up. You glanced at the map on your phone, which showed Gojo's location tagged in a cafeteria nearby. Suspicion crept in, and you decided to investigate.

As you entered the cafeteria, you spotted Gojo sitting at a table, chatting away with someone you couldn't see from your position, far from the cozy confines of home as he claimed. Confused, you dialed Gojo's number again.

"Hey, Satoru, where are you?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

"At home, of course," he replied without missing a beat.

You narrowed your eyes, your gaze fixed on Gojo. "Really? Because it looks like you're in a cafeteria."

Gojo's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly regained his composure. "Uh what are you talking about? Must be a glitch in the GPS or something. Definitely home, just enjoying some quality time with our little one."

You sighed, not buying Gojo's flimsy excuse for a second. Determined to catch him red-handed, you made your way quietly behind him. As you stood behind your husband, your child caught sight of you and froze, their eyes widening in panic.

Gojo continued chatting, unaware of your presence behind him. "You know, your mom can be so strict sometimes. Always making sure everything's in order, no room for fun."

You couldn't help but roll their eyes at Gojo's comment. But before you could confront him, your child subtly signaled towards your direction, prompting your husband to turn around.

The moment Gojo laid eyes on you, his expression morphed from nonchalant to downright mushy. "Well, look who's here! Isn't it my favorite person in the world?"

"Gojo Satoru, what are you doing here?" you asked, trying to feign seriousness, but couldn't fight the urge to smile at his sudden change in demeanor.

Gojo grinned sheepishly. "Okay, fine, you caught me. We may have wanted a little break from bedtime duty."

"And you thought hanging out in a cafeteria was the best way to do that?" you raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"Well, when you put it like that..." Gojo trailed off, scratching the back of his head. "But hey, since you're here, why don't you join us? We were just about to grab some snacks."

You couldn't help but laugh at Gojo's antics. "Fine, but only because I missed you guys too much."

[harmoonix]

☾ Night - Diamond ☽

• Astrology Observations •

🌆 - Is very Risky trying to lie on 8th house placements or Scorpio Moons, because when they trust you, they do it 100% if you break their trust, hardly you take it back..

🌆 - Venus/Mercury and Sun or Saturn in the 10th house can have a great reputation and can be seen as a "role model" for others

🌆 - Mars or Pluto in the 7th house can attract jealousy in their relationship, and with that can also come people who may try to break up the natives

🌆 - Libra and Gemini Venus/Moons can be very flirty when you try to know then more/deeper, sometimes it can happen to flirt without noticing

🌆 - Something I observed about the Venus/Moon in the 6th house is that they need reassurance when they are in love or in a serious relationship

🌆 - Sagittarius Sun/Moon/Mercury are the best to have around for their great humour and their unique jokes

🌆 - Mercury at 6°. 18° degrees may like to talk about mental health issues, they may also be the people who help others with opening up about their issues

🌆 - Sometimes Saturn in the 5th/7th house can experience rejection. In case you do, that is a sign from Saturn to be more aware of something

Is not the right time for that

That person may not be the one for you

The rejection may help you to discover things about that person

🌆 - People who don't really believe in astrology do not have not their 3rd eye open enough or they don't trust the higher plan enough to believe it

🌆 - Juno in Aquarius/11th house are the cutest when it comes to making a good relationship with their partners. Because they rely on free expressing and freedom

🌆 - South Node in your 8th house may experience a lot of deja-vu in their current life and aswell can experience states of being very intuitive about it

🌆 - Scorpio Risings are the best when it comes to hiding their true emotions/feelings so they would not get hurt in case there is someone who has a bad eye upon them

🌆 - Saturn aspecting Chiron can indicate issued with their father or with the older authorities in their lives

🌆 - Neptune at 1°, 13°, 25° degrees may doubt themselves a lot, they think that they are not enough, you are good in your own way, and you don't have to doubt yourself you are worth it.

🌆 - Sun/Moon in the 11th house can find gaming or games as a hobby, a thing that gives them a good vibe and a good state of mind

🌆 - Virgo Moons may need to practice a lot of self - healing if they need to recover from any traumas they had experienced

🌆 - When someone with Cancer or Leo Placements acts like a child around you, don't judge them, probably their inner kids feel safe with you

🌆 - Taurus Venus/Moon/Risings may like to make a lot of physical contact with their lovers/partners or in their relationship

🌆 - Capricorn Sun/Moon/Rising are having the stereotype of being an "old soul", so they may have really good advices or tips when it comes to life lessons

🌆 - Mercury in Sagittarius/Pisces may have captivating voices, they are giving poetic voice, someone who may be poetic/artistic/dreamy in the terms of voice

🌆 - Asteroid Eros (433) aspecting Mars is an indicator of being very erotic. Very sexual,sensual intimate and intense, ofc the tighter the orb the more intensely you feel these

🌆 - Asteroid Eros at 4°, 16°. 28° degrees may give an flow of innocence when you first met them, you can be ethereal with these degrees on your love asteroids. Also their eyes make you to fall more in love

🌆 - Try to make your Uranus persona chart to see what unexpected things you can experience in your life, for example having Venus in your 7th house in your Uranus Persona chart can mean you can have unexpected relationships

🌆 - Aquarius/Aries and Pisces Moons may have different taste in music 🎵 and they can also listen to multiple music genres like one second you catch them listening to pop, the next second they can listen rock or other genre of music

🌆 - Lilith in Libra Degrees (7°, 19°) charm people with their beauty, is giving femme fatale vibes with these degrees+ Lilith combined, you may also have gorgeous hair

🌆 - Gemini/Scorpio in the 6th house can have more 1 pet, I feel like most people with this placement can have more pets in their home or the desire to have more than 1 pet

🌆 - People with their Mercuries in Aries Degrees (1°,13°,25°) can talk really fast, like they put a lot of energy in this and can end up with everyone saying "sorry can you repeat? you talk too fast"

🌆 - Having Uranus - Juno aspects feels is having a vibe close to this "I never knew there was someone so special like you out there in the world" - They can find their partner/spouse so so so special and is so cute

🌆 - Neptune - Venus aspects can sometimes indicate getting in a state of delusion when you are in love, you can even create fake scenarios in your head about your crushes/lovers

🌆☽ - It's a new day and that means a new post for me to you 🦋, I hope you have it good and you're fine 🦋 🌆☾

☽ I hope everyone who reads my notes has a good day full of light and good vibes, and the most important. To love yourself ☾

🌆☽ Yours truly, Harmoonix ☾🌆

[risuola]

▶ CATORU — stealing Suguru's clothes just feels natural, they're comfy and cozy and they smell like him, but thing is - his hoodies are black... and Satoru's hair is white.

contents: fluff; college!au, roommates, polyamorous relationship — 1k words

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

“Geez, you really need to brush that cat out,” your best friend commented, plucking a white hair off your black hoodie once you dropped down onto the couch next to her placing the wine glasses, totally not regular glasses, and a bottle on the table. You invited her for the first time after you moved into the new apartment. It was a celebration of your new place, successfully passed exams and just a nice opportunity to catch up on life.

“Cat?” You looked at her; confusion apparent in your eyes and she pointed at the hairs in her fingers, few short, snow-white strands that she collected from you and surroundings. It wasn’t unusual – you had a habit of stealing Suguru’s clothes (and they are usually black), and Gojo has a habit of nuzzling into you, demanding head scratches so it’s only natural that his white hairs stick to you and are quite visible. “Ah, that cat. Yeah, I really need to brush him out. Or maybe I’ll just shave him, I don’t know yet.”

The thought made you giddy inside, it really cracked you up. Before that, you never realized that your friend had no idea what kind of relationship you are in. You never hid it from her, you openly told her about the three of you doing things together, but somehow, the possibility of you sharing your life with Suguru and Satoru at the same time flew over her head. You also are quite openly affectionate with both of your boys, but it’s possible that once your friend saw you kissing Geto, she automatically categorized your interactions with Gojo as purely friendly. You were not even sure if she ever had a chance to see you with your white-haired princess.

“It’s cute you and Geto took a white kitten. It’s because of Gojo, right?” She smiled cutely, throwing the hairs away as you poured her some of the cheap prosecco.

“Yeah, the kitten is definitely reminding us of Satoru.” You laughed softly, taking your own glass to your lips. “Our little Catoru.”

“Awww, that’s adorable,” she squealed, savoring the taste of pinkish liquid. “How is he dealing with it, by the way?”

“Dealing with what?”

“You know, how’s Gojo dealing with the fact you stole his best friend? I was wondering, is he okay with you being and living with Suguru? They are pretty much joined at the hip.” She was curious, genuinely, and you can tell she really has no clue, so you decided to play along.

“I mean, Satoru is doing great, you don’t need to worry.”

“’ts good,” your bestie exhaled with some kind of relief, and you couldn’t shake off the amusement off your shoulders. You wondered how she would react to the revelation of your polyamorous relationship. Would she be surprised? In your eyes, it was only natural to accept both Satoru and Suguru into your life, the boys are inseparable, you couldn’t date one without dating the other. That was just the way it is, the packaged deal, the law of nature if you will. “Is your boyfriend home?”

“Sugu? He has martial arts training today. Will be back later. Don’t worry about it, okay? You’re my guest,” you reassured her and the conversation went smoothly from that point. You talked a little about everything, about college, about teachers and recent exams, about love life and your recent dates.

“Is Gojo always third-wheeling you two?” She asked when you were telling her about your last movie night. The one that got all three of you deadly backpain afterwards because you all fell asleep on the couch in a position that even got Suguru and his super trained, stretched and fit body suffering. It’s better not to recall how you and Satoru felt.

“Sometimes I feel like I am third-wheeling them,” you laughed, “but yea, we’re actually–“

“Can I see the cat?” Your friend cut you off, suddenly all excited. “God, I completely forgot about him, can I see that fluffball?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure the cat is sleeping and you know, that fluffball gets grumpy when woken up.”

“Pleeeaaaase, I promise, I won’t wake it up. I just want to see the little Catoru, he must be adorable.”

With an exhale you decided to give in. You knew Satoru had a rough night, he got back home in the morning after a visit at his parents’ house and you know his family can be pretty distressing. Now he’s probably sleeping it off, but just a quick visit shouldn’t hurt. With that thought you took your friend to your bedroom.

“Just please, don’t scream, okay? He’s dead tired.” You half-whispered, before opening the doors. She nodded and you peeked inside, just to make sure the cat wasn’t sprawled naked on the bed or something and once sure that it’s safe, you walked in, carefully placing your steps to make as little noise as possible.

Satoru was sleeping, tightly cocooned in blankets with only his head visible from the nose up. He was really worn out, you could tell by the way he was breathing, so deeply and heavily what only happened when he was exhausted. You crouched next to the bed, gently running your fingers through his hair and he purred something, automatically leaning into your touch. Satoru could be at his death bed and would still search for your warmth.

“Do you need something?” You asked quietly, brushing little circles onto his scalp. He made some kind of noise that sounded a little like a no, and you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “If you do, just call me, baby, I’ll be next door.”

Satoru purposefully uncovered the lower half of his face so you could give him a peck, and once he got that, he turned back to his cocoon. You whispered him a little love you, got up and left, leading your visibly stoked friend back to the living room. She was shocked, but at the same time it looked like a realization was hitting her hard and you saw in real time how her expression was changing.

“That was the cat?” She whisper-screamed.

“Yup.”

“So you and Geto and Gojo—?"

“Yup.”

“Like, all three of you?”

“Yes,” you chuckled, pouring her more wine. “I actually had no idea that you don’t know. I thought we’re quite obvious.”

“Now as I think about it, you kinda were… I’m gonna need more wine.”

“I’ll text Suguru.”

taglist: @gojos-thot-patrol-main , @chuluoyi

[satorusugurugurl]

Heyyy👋 can you write reader catching modern au! Sukuna masturbating🫣 and she helps him out

Come Home

Summary: With his brothers at school and a day off work, Sukuna is alone in bed when his thoughts trail off to you. There's only one reasonable thing to do.

Pairning: Modern AU! Sukuna x FAB! Reader

Word Count:1,657

Warning: Masturbatons, oral sex, horny sexy sex.

A/N: Yes! Y’all know how I love self-pleasure!! Woot Woot!

“Lunch?”

“Check!”

“Phone?”

“Check!”

“Gym clothes?”

“Double check!”

“Awesome, cool,” Sukuna shoved his younger brother towards the door. “Go on, get the fuck out.”

Choso and Yuuji glanced at each other before looking at their older brother. He was in a poor piss mood. He had been all week. The two brothers shared a glance before Sukuna narrowed his eyes at them. It was probably because you were on a week-long girls’ trip. And while he would never admit it, his brothers knew how much you meant to him.

“What?” He asked, running a hand over his face.

“Nothing! Have a great day!”

As soon as they were no longer visible, Sukuna slammed the door shut. He'd been so annoyed every little thing ticked him off. Work, his brothers, everything! He'd been blowing his top, more on edge than usual.

If you had been here, you would have been able to ease his stress. You could talk him down from any edge. From the way your hands massaging his shoulders, working the tension out. By the way, you took over whenever the boys would give him a hard time. He hated to admit it, but you made him a better person. And what was even worse was that he liked it. Damn, fuck, he like the person he was becoming because of you.

You, all of you. Sukuna groaned, shutting his eyes tight as you invaded his mind. You soft Y/H/C, how your eyes lit up, how your smile could melt him. Everything about you was perfect in his eyes. Your voice, the way you smelled, the sound of your voice.

“Sukuna!” The joy in your voice when you came over.

The firm but gentle “Sukuna.” You whisper in his ear when he starts to lose his temper with his brothers.

“S-Sukuna~!” The way you would moan his name when he was balls deep inside your perfect pussy.

With a frustrated sigh, he peered down at the tent in his sweats. How was it you could be hundreds of miles away and still make his cock hard? Damnit, he had it bad for you, and he had a raging boner.

“Fuck it. I have nothing better to do.”

Padded across the floor, Sukuna plopped down in bed, his hand slowly reaching into his sweats. Sukuna grabbed his cock, causing a sharp hiss to pass through his clenched teeth. The velvety skin was hot, throbbing under both his touch and the thoughts of you. It always amazed him just how fucking hard he got whenever you were involved. Either participating in the fun or when you were just at the forefront of his mind.

Which was constant anymore, yet you were nowhere to be found to help with the predicament he currently found himself in. You were probably sippin’ on mimosas or some girl shit. When Sukuna would much rather have you sucking on his cock.

”Fuck.” Spitting into his hand, Sukuna wrapped his fingers around his cock. Imagining it as your hand, which barely fits around his girth length. “Suck it.” He rolled his head back, resting it against the pillows as he imagined images of you. Crawling up the bed on your hands and knees. “That’s right, mhmm fuck you look so fucking sexy.” You were naked, tits bare, lacey underwear hugging your hips as you kissed up his thighs.

He squeezed his shaft before slowly dragging his hand up and down. His spit lubricated the soft skin of his cock, but it wasn’t nearly enough, not enough to even begin to mimic your mouth. You were always so messy, gagging up and down, taking him as deep as you could until pretty tears stained your cheeks. Even if he told you not to push yourself, that you neednt worry about him, you gave it one hundred and fuckin’ fifty percent. So, one could only imagine his disappointment that his hand felt nothing like your tight, wet mouth.

The way your pretty lips kiss swollen wrapped around the tip, your tongue teasing his slit in slow, calculated licks. He knew you liked it. You loved sucking his cock. You hummed around him as you tasted his pre-cum, making your tongue move harder against his tip. Eventually, though, you grew tired of the pre-cum and wanted the real thing. So you would gag, bob your head, hollow your cheeks, doing everything and anything in your power to get him to cum in your mouth.

You were such a whore for his cock.

”That’s it, suck it, suck it, my fucking beautiful girl.” In his fantasy, you hummed, sucking faster as his hand tried and failed to imitate you. “Come on, baby, you can take it.” His brain was screaming at his hand to do what he was seeing in his head, but it was to no avail. Despite his hand being a cheap knockoff, it would get the job done. Just not in the way he wanted.

“Fuck, Y/N, come home soon.”

As Sukuna continued thrusting his cock into his fist, you opened the door to his apartment. You were giddy, kicking your shoes off, searching for your handsome boyfriend. You had told him you were coming back on Thursday, which was a lie. A lie you were proud of! You knew he had the rest of the week off, so you took it upon yourself to take the week off yourself. This way, you could make up for your time away from him.

When you couldn't find Sukuna anywhere in the kitchen or living room, you grinned mischievously. Knowing him, he fell asleep after sending his little brothers off to school. That meant you could wake him up in the naughtiest way before getting your guts rearranged. Tip-toeing to his room, you tilted your head to the side as his groans and curses could be heard from his room.

When you peeked inside to see what he was doing, your breath caught in your throat. Sukuna was flushed. A light sweat had begun to bead over his toned muscles while he fucked his hand. His face was contorted with frustration as his hand moved up and down faster. Your poor baby was so close, but he couldn't get past the edge. His thick, girthy, perfect cock throbbed red with anger while it cried beads of pre-cum.

“Y/N, fuck Y/N, don't stop, so close.” Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you fought back a pleased giggle. Poor Sukuna, he must be missing you so badly. Jerking his cock off like a horny teenager. Desperate for release, for a mediocre orgasm.

Well, it was his lucky day. Because you, you were going to suck his would out. Using his shut eyes and heavy breathing to your advantage, you stepped inside his room. You made sure to hold your breath as you approached the edge of the bed. From up close, you could see the pained expression on his face. Poor thing, his cock must be so hard it hurts. What kind of girlfriend would you be if you just allowed him to suffer like this?

Bending over, you kitten licked the slit of his leaking cock. Sukuna’s cock throbbed hard before his body seized up as he pulled his hand away. “What the fu — oooh fuck.” You wasted no time, getting on the bed, body hunched over as you took the tip of his monstrous cock in your mouth. “Fuck, holy, Y/N?!” His disbelief melted into a gravely moan.

Seeing as your mouth was full, you hummed, looking up into his eyes. “Mhmm~” you attempted to wrap your hand around him, slowly stroking him in time with your sucking.

“Oh, fuck feels so good!” Sukuna wrapped his hand in your hair, tugging at the Y/H/C locks.”That’s it, just like fuckin’ that!” He shoved your head down, making you take his cock down your throat. The sudden action had you gagging as tears blurred your vision. “So pretty, fuck you're so fucking pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock.”

His praises had you sucking him down deeper. More tears streamed down your cheeks as you ran your tongue down the vein on the underside of his cock. Sukuna gasped, thrusting his hips up and into your mouth. Looking at him with blurry eyes, you gagged harder as he fucked your throat like he was fucking your tight pussy.

“Fuck, fuck, gonna cum, I’m gonna fuckin’ cum.” having him hold your head in place as he ducked your face was so arousing in the most intimate ways. You loved making him feel good. You got off on this. “Take it,” he gritted, “take it, suck it, fuckin’ fuck! Y/N!!” he threw his head back, back arching off the bed as ropes of cum filled your mouth. It was thick, hot, and slightly bitter.

You were determined not to waste a drop, so you swallowed and sucked, repeating the process until Sukuna pulled you off his softening dick. His chest heaving, cheeks flushed, the man looked like he ran a marathon. Seeing him in a state like this had you smirking as he gently caressed your head.

“Oh my fuck, I was not expecting this.”

“Mmm, surprise, I came home to spend time with you.”

Sukuna slowly pushed himself up on his elbows. “Good,” he grabbed you by the waist, easily lifting you, positioning you to straddle his neck. “No, why don't you take a seat here.” His middle and forefinger tapped at his lips. “And tell me all about your trip.” you ripped your underwear off, tossing them across the room, before holding your dress up in your hands.

“Well, you’ll never guess what Minami did.”

“Fuckin’ hate that bitch, tell me everything.” He muttered into your pussy as you gasped out in pleasure. Yeah, he felt a million times better now that you were back, right where you belonged.

[writerswall26]

My Sweet Cairo (Part 1)

Synopsis: The Ravens' Soccer team Captain fell in love for Cairo Sweet

Warning: Slight cursing, other than that, none that I know of (but feel free to correct me)

Words: 3.1k

Masterlist | Next Part

A/N: This is the first time I'm posting here, I hope you enjoy it. Happy Reading

Final year of high school was somewhat a bliss for a student athlete like Y/N. Everything should be perfect from then on. Grades, soccer games, even soccer practice needs to be perfect. If she wants to go to her dream university in California, she needs to do everything by the book. Be a model student, win games as a Captain of the soccer team, be everything. Being strained in a small town in Tennessee after moving a couple years ago, she did not expect to be where she is in life right now. It's too early to tell but she knows what she wants and she will get there however means necessary.

She was not rich by all means but their family got by. Her mom inherited a huge house in Tennessee from her father, then an incident happened and next thing she knows, she's flying from Australia to a place she's never heard of.

"Great job, guys! That's all for today, now go wash up and go to your class." Coach Boris Fillmore dismissed them.

Y/N was the first to the locker rooms. She has literature with Mr. Miller and she's somewhat excited when it comes to that class so she did not want to be late. Unfortunately for her, she's a few minutes late.

"Good Morning, Mr. Miller. I'm sorry I'm late." She said, panting while she sat beside her classmate Winnie Black, a girl from last semester.

Their teacher, Jonathan Miller turned to her with a smile.

"I was just starting, Ms. Y/L/N." He said, and he started the class.

"You smell nice." Y/N heard Winnie whisper beside her. This girl has always been a flirt, especially with their coach.

She turned to Winnie with a smile before flicking a paper in her face. "Stop hitting on me, you creep." She joked, hearing the girl giggle before their attention went to the front to focus on whatever Mr. Miller was teaching them.

"That's all for today's class, I expect your reviews on my desk first thing in the morning before our next class." Mr. Miller dismissed them, clapping his hands together to remove the remnants of the chalk that were stuck in them.

After Y/N finished putting her things inside her bag, she stood up and went to the front to speak with their teacher.

"Hey, Mr. Miller?" Y/N called out, making their teacher turn to her with a smile, he was always smiling.

"Yeah?"

"Here's an excuse letter for all the soccer team. Game's on the night before passing. I can pass the assignment earlier." Y/N said, handing out a paper to Mr. Miller who scanned it.

The older teacher nodded as he raised his head to look at her. "I'll be here. You can pass it before or after you win us that game. Good luck."

"Thanks, Mr. Miller. Have a great day." Y/N said before she started to walk back when she bumped into someone, making their things fall to the ground.

"Holy shit, I'm so sorry." She apologized but immediately stopped when she saw who she bumped into.

Short girl, tanned skin, freckles on her face, brunette hair, and her captivating brown eyes. Cairo Sweet.

"I'm sorry." Y/N said once again before she stooped down to grab all the books down the floor.

She heard a small giggle before Cairo stooped down to help her pick up the books that fell. "Better watch where you're going next time, superstar." Cairo said, smiling as Y/N handed her the books.

Y/N couldn't help but smile. She's had the biggest crush on Cairo since she's first seen the girl walking to school. Their houses are just a few blocks away. Since then, she would always ride her bike to school, hoping to catch a glimpse of Cairo before she got to practice. And without fail, she would pass by Cairo on the road and that would make her entire day.

"We have a game on saturday night. Do you think you could come and watch?" Y/N asked, getting all shy.

Cairo smiled. "I'll check in on my schedule."

Y/N nodded before she walked back, still smiling as she stared at the brunette girl and ended up bumping into someone again. Y/N immediately apologized before turning to Cairo who was already giggling.

"See you saturday night, Cairo." She reminded before she ran off to save herself from further humiliation.

"You're all smiles and shit." Jasmine, a friend from her soccer team said as she sat down in their physics class, taught by their coach Mr. Fillmore.

"I finally talked to her." She informed her friend, her smile not leaving her face.

"With who?"

"Cairo Sweet."

Jasmine howlered before slapping her hard on the arm which made her groan as she rubbed the soar place. "You finally did it!"

"I finally did, huh?" She said, grinning like a crazy love sick girl.

"Y/L/N, Smith, eyes up front!" Coach Fillmore called which made them straighten themselves up, but their knowing looks were there.

Before saturday, Y/N is back in Mr. Miller's classroom to pass her essay. She wanted to be a good student and not take advantage of being a star athlete. Her father always told her to focus more on being a student than being an athlete and she kept that in mind until now.

"You're early." Mr. Miller greeted her as soon as she stepped inside his classroom.

"Good morning, sir. I'm gonna pass my essay since Coach would excuse us the entire day for training. It's semis and it's a huge deal." She said, handing the teacher her polished essay.

Mr. Miller nodded. "Make sure you win us that championship or I'd fail you and tell Coach Boris to do the same in your physics class."

She chuckled. "No, you won't."

"Yes, I will."

"No, you will not."

"Yes, I will."

"Nah, you don't have the balls to do it, sir." She jokes which got her a howler from the incoming Coach, with coffee and biscuits in hands, and a laugh from their literature teacher.

"Training starts in ten, what are you doing here Y/L/N?" Coach Fillmore asked, handing Mr. Miller his coffee and laying down a biscuit on the front table.

"Mr. Miller here is threatening to fail me if we lose the championship, he's dragging your ass out to do so."

Coach Fillmore gave his friend a look before laughing. "That's not gonna happen."

"That's what I'm saying. Because I'm gonna make sure we win that championship and wave that cup in Mr. Miller's face together with my MVP cup." She said confidently and jokingly, making the two older men laugh.

"You're a cocky one, get your ass out here." Coach Fillmore said to which Y/N nodded. "And get a biscuit on the way out, you're gonna need that."

Y/N did get a biscuit and smiled at her two favourite teachers. "Later, Mr. Miller. Be ready to be humiliated when we get that championship."

"She's still not done?" She heard Coach Fillmore say.

"I'll be waiting here in my classroom." Mr. Miller followed.

By Saturday night, Y/N's nerves are on the roof. Their opponent is one of the strongest in the high school league and they're legacy. They've won 4 back to back championships and they were hard on Y/N since she came.

"I'm gonna go get some air before we start." Y/N told Jasmine who nodded.

While she was out praying and pacing, she felt a small tap on her shoulder. And what greeted her made her forget the nerves, only her smile and the presence of the person mattered from here on.

"You came... and you dragged Winnie with yah." Y/N said, glancing at Winne who had a teasing smile as she waved her fingers.

"Actually, Winne dragged me here with her, I did not intend to come."

"Why are you here?" Y/N asked Winnie who rolled her eyes.

"She wanted to watch Coach Fillmore in action." Cairo was the one who answered.

Y/N turned to Cairo with furrowed brows. "Coach Fillmore's not playing."

"But he will be out there frustrated and hot." Winnie finally spoke, making Y/N roll her eyes.

"Lay off him, will you? He's happy, contented."

"He hasn't had me yet." Winnie said with a flirtatious grin, her brows wriggling.

"That's disgusting. How about I hook you up with some of my jock friends? That's more appropriate."

"Mm-mm." She heard Cairo, making her turn to the brunette. "She doesn't like smelly cocky jocks."

"They're all rough and sweaty. I want something delicate and gentle."

Y/N made a face of disgust. "That's incredibly disturbing. And you're public enemy number 1 for me."

Winnie snorted. "You're just saying that because you don't want Cairo to have the same thinking as me."

Y/N kept quiet about that statement. But Winnie just laughed. "Oh boohoo, everyone in this school knows you're whipped for Cairo. Since sophomore years."

"Hence the reason you're public enemy number 1." Y/N said, not caring if Cairo's staring at her with this new found information. The shyness and shame is far out of her body at this point.

"Whatever you say, superstar. Go back in there, I can see my man looking for you." Winnie said, staring at a distance.

Sure enough, Coach Fillmore is out there seemingly looking for her.

"I gotta go. You two look for seats. Thanks for coming, Cairo." Y/N finally said, starting to jog back to the dugout.

"You're whipped!" She heard Winnie shout.

"And you're on my hit list!" She shouted with a smile.

"Good luck!" She heard Cairo saying which made her giddy inside.

"Where the hell have you been?" Coach Fillmore said as soon as she got to him. "Get your ass inside."

The two of them walked back to the dugout for a motivational speech from the coach. When Coach Fillmore was done, she got her stage.

"One thing, I got a girl I really really want to impress seated in one of those stands. And if we lose, I will make you all regret it." She threatened, which got her a whistling and howling from her teammates.

"That's not our problem, Cap." One of her mates said, chuckling.

"Oh, but it will be. If we lose this game, you're gonna get it from me." Coach Fillmore said, making everyone groan. "Now, get your ass out there and get us that win."

"How come you have coach on your side?!" Jasmine whined as they got out to start their game.

Y/N just shrugged as they focused. The announcer called both teams to the field and even without going out, they could hear the loud cheering and stumping. They all lined up side by side with the opponent team to have the anthem before the game started.

The first 30 minutes was a play of getting the ball and staying on the field for sheer amusement. It was boring for most people but for some, they can feel the heat starting to as the halftime comes.

"Y/N!" Jasmine shouted and passed the ball towards her. It's a free goal, she got the ball, ran her ass out and kicked it for the goal.

"And that's the first goal of the night from the Ravens' team captain Y/N Y/L/N!" The commentator shouted as the stands erupt in cheers.

She slid her way and did her celebratory dance with her teams, the cheering getting louder.

"Come on, come on!" They heard Coach Fillmore shouting as well.

The rest of the first half was them defending their post until halftime.

"That's was a great job, guys!" Coach told everyone as they cheered on the locker room for their ten minute halftime.

"They're seething. I saw them glaring at us before we went back." Y/N told their coach who nodded.

"That is why you're gonna be subbed out." He said.

There was a series of complaints but the Coach blew his whistle and they all shut up.

"Coach, you can't let her sit this second half down, they're gonna chew our asses out! We barely managed to defend them!" Jasmine said, as a matter of fact.

"Do you trust me?" Coach asked them, looking at them one by one.

There was a series of humming and yesses.

"Then you have to let me do what I do best. That is to coach you." He assured them.

"We're gonna get our asses handed to us in the second half." Y/N told their coach who walked to her.

"Do you trust me?" Coach Fillmore asked one more time but Y/N turned her head away from the older man. "Do you trust me, Y/N?"

The Captain looked at this coach, reading him. Then she nodded. "Yes, sir." Her Aussie accent coming out.

Coach Fillmore nodded as he tapped her shoulder. "Now, this is going to be the longest 40 minutes of your lives. They're gonna play whatever play they can to win and get back that point. And I want you all to give it your best shot to defend that goal post and that point you all so painfully got."

They did their team hands before they went back to the fields where Y/N sat her pretty ass down, or not. She was standing beside Coach Fillmore, watching her teammates struggle to defend the ball.

"And that is a goal for the Sharks! Great play from their team captain Trish Hudson!" The announcer exclaimed which Y/N groaned in annoyance. It was an easy goal.

The team was right, they did get their ass handed to them not less than 20 minutes in the game. Y/N was pleading to their coach but it fell on deaf ears.

"And that's another goal for the Sharks!" The commentator said.

Y/N was about to go all Lucifer on it when she noticed something from the other team's captain.

"She's limping." She said, making Coach Fillmore turn to her.

"What?" He asked curiously.

"Their star scorer, she's limping. Look." She said, nodding at the other team's captain and sure enough, she was celebrating but she was limping on her right leg.

"You're right. Why is that?" Coach asked, turning to her with furrowed brows.

"Someone rough housed her."

"One of our own? Why do you think so?" He was sceptical

"I know so. They're kinda holding out on a thread out there. An accident maybe?" She said, shrugging her shoulders.

"What did I tell yah?" He said, smiling widely at her.

"Call for the time out, then." She said with a smile and he did call for a time out.

"Alright! We're subbing Y/N back in." He informed their team with a smile.

"Finally!" Jasmine cheered as she let her head fall back.

"What made you change your mind, coach?" One of the teammates asked.

"She's limping." Y/N answered.

"What? Who?" Someone asked.

"Hudson, she's limping. Who rough housed her?" Y/N asked, looking at them one by one. "Come on, no one's blaming yah, she's a machine."

"How would we know? They're boxing us out, if we happened to kick their sheen, it would be an accident." Jasmine reasoned.

"Point taken. Now, go get us that win!" Coach said after the time out and in goes Y/N again.

She was defending the other team's captain and when the ball got to her foot, she immediately ran to the post, was about to kick the ball when she felt a sting on her left leg, making her fall. It was a bad slam.

She immediately stood up but it was still stinging from the cleats. The player got a yellow and a free ball was given.

"You got this Y/N/N!" She heard her team shouting as she closed her eyes, focused on the post, AND GOAL!

"What a wonderful hat trick from the Raven's captain Y/N Y/L/N! This seemed like an overtime coming up!" The commentator said as they celebrated.

"Let's go!" She shouted despite the aching on her left sheen but she did not mind that one bit.

Then the game continued, with 3 minutes remaining on the clock and everyone was doing their hardest to keep the ball alive, no one scoring and the defence was tight.

It was in the Ravens' possession and they were trying hard to get to the post but they were being boxed out. So when Y/N found a hole, she got the ball from her teammate and ran it like there's no tomorrow. She was being chased by 2 players but she mind nothing. The next thing she knows, her left leg was being slammed on, her face was bleeding and the ball was in Jasmine's possession...

"And goal! Right before the clock! The Ravens' take the win for the semi finals! What a goal from Jasmine Smith!" The stands erupted as everyone cheered.

Cairo has been holding her breath since the last five minutes, she's seen how the other team was playing dirty and they're aiming at Y/N. Her heart almost stopped when Y/N fell to the ground right before Jasmine scored. Even with the loud cheering and all, her eyes never left Y/N who pushed herself up and limped to her teammates, her face bleeding.

"That seemed like a bad cut." Winnie said worriedly, but Cairo still never left her gaze on Y/N who got body slammed by her teammates.

When everything was calmed, Cairo pulled Winnie with her to the lockers to check on Y/N and sure enough, she was just done getting patched up.

"That looked like a bad fall." Cairo said, walking towards Y/N who had an ice bag on her left leg and a few butterfly band aid on her right eyebrow.

Y/N's face immediately lit up as soon as she saw Cairo standing in front of her.

"Hey. Did you like the game?" She asked, fixing herself.

"It was boring." Cairo answered with a shrug.

"She was holding her breath the entire time you were out on the field." Winnie chimed in, making Cairo glare at her.

"You were?" Y/N asked, her smile widened at the thought.

"Don't be all cocky, now." Cairo rolled her eyes.

Winnie let out a playful gagging sound before she walked out. "I'll leave you two lovebirds in here while I go find Coach Boris."

"Lay off him!" Y/N shouted again but it fell on deaf ears.

Y/N shook her head before she turned to Cairo who was watching her with a small smile.

"So this is what you do huh?" Cairo said, walking towards her until she was in front of Y/N who was looking up. Despite her sitting down, she's still almost as tall as Cairo. What an adorable sight.

"Since I could remember, yeah."

With hesitation, Cairo held a hand on Y/N's cut, caressing it gently. The taller girl leaned in to the touch, her body relaxing despite her heart pounding in her chest, she thought it was gonna jump out of her body any time soon.

"Is it bad?" Cairo asked softly, making her open her eyes to look at the lovely brown eyes staring at her.

"Nothing I can take." She whispered.

Cairo smiled sweetly before she let her hand fall on her side as she stepped back. Y/N was disappointed and aching to bring that warmth back but she stayed quiet.

"Congratulations on the win. You did great out there." Cairo said with a smile, her cute dimples showing leaned down to give her a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Y/N watched as the brunette turned around and started walking. "Will you be watching the finals? I could use a little energizer."

Cairo turned her head to her with a smile. "I'll think about it." She said and she was out the door in a blink of an eye.

"You're gonna be the death of me, Cairo Sweet."

[sxcret-garden]

Yunho ღ NSFW Alphabet [M]

ღ Ateez - NSFW Alphabets ღ Ateez Yunho x gn!reader (some parts might work better with fem-bodied!reader) ღ words: ~3.5k ღ genre: smut ღ warnings: none

A = Aftercare (what he’s like after sex)

He’s soso sweet :( oftentimes he already thought of preparing the essentials beforehand - some water, towels, some snacks,... and he won’t hesitate to provide you with anything else you might want or need after having sex. Takes especially good care of you if you’ve been going at it for a long time and/or if he got a little rough with you. He enjoys staying up with you afterwards, holding you close while just talking about literally anything, and he always wants to know whether you enjoyed yourself, if there’s anything you want him to do differently next time, and so on.

B = Body part (his favorite body part of his partner)

Your waist. He just loves the shape of it, loves tracing his fingertips along your sides, and though he’s trying not to make it obvious at first, it really just is obvious. Blushes a little when you ask him why he likes it so much and just tells you it’s pretty before pressing a kiss to your lips. Even when he’s looking at you from afar he can’t help but let his eyes trace your shape over and over again, and when he’s finally alone with you, you will catch him marveling at your beauty, wishing he could spend all day mapping out your shapes with his lips and worshipping your body.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum)

Your pleasure is his top priority when having sex with you, so it’s likely you’re gonna cum more often than him overall. And of course he eventually wants to chase his own high as well, but he just can’t stop searching for all the different ways in which he can get you off because he gets so addicted to the way your body reacts to him. His favourite is having you cum around his fingers, showering you with praises as if he got drunk on the feeling of your contracting around his digits. As for him, he loves it when you simply let him cum into your fist as you’re giving him a handjob. Idk, something about seeing his cum dripping down your fingers just really does it for him.

D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret or secret desire of his)

That time he caught you getting off by yourself and he just couldn’t bring himself to walk away. He didn’t even see anything, he just walked into his apartment, not knowing you had already come home, and he didn’t seem to be the only one unaware of the other’s presence. Because even when he deliberately closed the door loudly, your moans didn’t stop. And so he stood there, frozen up, and feeling himself being very much affected by what’s unfolding in the other room. And he just can’t stop himself from getting painfully turned on by the sounds falling from your lips as you’re bringing yourself closer and closer to your high.

He’ll keep this a secret from you for a very long time, because he knows he should’ve just walked back out and returned a bit later instead of listening in on you. But eventually he’ll tell you about it, once you’ve been dating for long enough to be sure you wouldn’t feel awkward about this anymore.

E = Experience (how experienced is he?)

Average I’d say? He’s had sexual partners before, but not that many. He doesn’t seem like the type to jump from relationship to relationship, and I also think one-night-stands are more of an occasional thing for him, but overall I think he has at least some experience!

F = Favorite position 

Depends on what mood he’s in, but usually a kind of position where he can observe you well. An all time favourite of his has got to be you having your back against his chest, while you’re standing or sitting in front of a mirror. He wants to see all your reactions and watches your reflection with great interest as he touches you. Plus, there’s just something very hot to him about also seeing himself taking you from behind in a mirror… When he’s frustrated or being rough with you however, he’ll prefer to bend you over the nearest surface and to have his way with you like that.

G = Goofy (is he more serious in the moment? is he humorous?)

There’s definitely gonna be the occasional giggle when you’re sleeping with him. He’s super chill about embarrassing situations, and will always want to convey to you that everything’s okay - sometimes you’re just gonna be clumsy about something and he actually finds that endearing more than anything. But even then, especially when you’re having very sweet sex, he will make you laugh time and time again to keep a lighthearted mood. However, if you’re being more rough and having kinky sex he’ll be more on the serious side, because he wants to make sure everything that’s happening is alright with you, and that you’re feeling good at all times!

H = Headspace (how much does he think about it/you during the day? how elaborate are his fantasies?)

I think he actually doesn’t think about sex super often? But when he does it’s usually deliberate. He’s very good at keeping his self control in case a sexual thought does pop up in his mind every now and then at an inappropriate time, so it’s also very hard to get him riled up if you’re trying to tease him in public for example. However, when he’s in the comfort of his own home he will let his thoughts wander from time to time, indulging in his own fantasies (whether it’s about a specific person or just anyone in general) and he will usually end up getting off to his own thoughts in the end.

I = Intimacy (how passionate or romantic is he?)

I think he’s both very passionate and very romantic deep inside, though the passion-side doesn’t always show very obviously. He’s responsible and more concerned about your pleasure than his own most of all, so even when you can undeniably see the passion burning in his gaze, he’ll stay in control most of the time and not let it take over - especially if you’re having rough sex. Though that might just make the times when his passion and need for you break through that much hotter… As for his romantic side… that will show most if not all of the time, he just can’t help it. Whether it’s in the way he communicates with you, always making sure you’re on the same page at all times, or in the way he gazes at you lovingly whenever he has the chance, or how he whispers sweet nothings to you throughout. If one thing’s for sure then it’s that this guy will make you feel loved at all times! He might get a little shy about classic romantic acts, you know, like putting on some background music to get in the mood, or candles or rose petals scattered all over the bed, but if you mention to him that you’re into that kind of stuff he’ll definitely one day surprise you with it!

J = Jack off (how does he masturbate and how often?)

I don’t think he gets off all that often? Though he seems like the type to use it to let off some steam at the end of the day, but then it’s really just a quick orgasm and nothing more. As I mentioned above, he will sometimes let his mind wander, and if he’s caught up in his fantasies he might just end up taking more time with pleasuring himself sometimes. But I think that especially when he has a partner, he’d choose having sex with them over masturbating any day.

K = Kink (one of his kinks)

Gonna go with a choking kink here because… if Yunho then hands, and hands around throat just makes him soso horny even when he’s just thinking about it. He occasionally likes having your hands around his throat too, whether you’re just resting them there or actually applying some pressure, but he definitely prefers it the other way around. So if you’re into that too, he will do it quite often. Just the image of his big hands wrapped around your throat is so pretty to him, and he’ll be very responsible about the power that gives him over you. Loves having you watch yourself in the mirror as he’s getting you off with one hand, the other hand around your throat keeping you in place and forcing you to watch as he whispers dirty praises in your ear, but he also loves simply having you underneath him in missionary, fucking into you as he applies pressure to your throat, watching as you’re slowly losing your mind.

L = Location (favorite places to do it)

The comfort of his or your home is definitely by far the nr 1 for him. He’s not a public sex type of guy at all, like the most public he’s willing to go is in the car usually. If you like the thrill of it, he’ll sometimes be willing to get you off in a semi-public space, but in the end he’d really rather be somewhere the both of you can get comfortable and won’t have to worry about being caught or being too loud, etc. However, that doesn’t mean y’all always have to go at it in the bedroom. If you’re both very horny he’ll take any surface available - the couch, the dinner table, the kitchen counter, even the floor. There’s actually something very enticing to him about taking you on the dining table and making you moan his name where he knows friends or family will sit and have a meal with you on another day, without even so much as suspecting what he’s done to you in that very same place.

M = Motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)

Praise! I think praise has got to be his biggest motivator. Hums at you when you tell him how good he’s making you feel and then somehow manages to make you feel even better. This guy could spend all day just getting you off in various ways, fuelled by nothing but the way you praise him, and how he can feel your body reacting to his touch. Even the subtle things, like you melting into his touch or leaning into his hand at the small of your back will make him go crazy about you. And the tension is undeniable when he’s coming closer and closer, not yet giving you that kiss you’re craving or his sweet touch you’ve been longing for all day - it’s his way of riling you up and making you need him, and once he succeeds in making you almost beg for him he’ll be all over you in no time.

And even when the tables are turned, and you’re the one taking care of him, every praise falling from your lips will sound like heaven to him. He WILL blush as you keep praising him while bringing him closer to the edge, and the sounds you can get out of him as you continue sweet-talking him towards his orgasm will be so sinful and perfect, and yet not something he’d ever let you hear otherwise.

N = No (something he wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Receiving pain can be a big turn-off for him. Unless done right, he’s just not into it, and actually finds it kind of awkward? It just doesn’t feel right to him most of the time, and will ruin the mood so fast. However, in certain situations, when he’s about to cum, that definitely changes, and a slightly painful sensation like you pulling his hair a bit roughly or digging your fingernails into his skin might serve to enhance his pleasure!

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s pretty decent at giving oral I’d say. And though his favourite way of getting you off is simply using his hands, he’s more than willing to give you head rather often as well. There’s just something so intimate and sexy about the way his eyes will be glued to your face the whole time, checking for even the slightest reaction to his touches. This helps him figure out what you like and what drives you crazy very quickly, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t put that knowledge to good use. Loves the taste of you and how it feels when you cum into his mouth. 

The other way around he’d never say no to receiving oral from you, and prefers it when he can just lean back and enjoy the ride. Won’t really do much except telling you how well you’re doing, until he’s coming really close or if you’re edging him. Then he’ll eventually reach the point where he can’t take it anymore and he’ll buck his hips up into your mouth or grab your hair (if possible) to keep you in place and fuck your mouth until he reaches his high.

P = Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Yunho is naturally more on the sensual side, with everything. Whether he’s giving you just his fingers, head, or his dick. But the thing with him is also that he’s pretty versatile and is willing to adapt to his partner’s likes quite a lot. So if you’re into a fast and rough pace, he’ll give you exactly what you want, and he’ll definitely end up enjoying it too! Though if it were entirely up to him, he usually prefers going slow and taking his time worshipping your body and mapping out all your favourite places to be touched. Only when he’s very desperate or his very dominant side comes out he’ll become rougher, but even then he tends to still be slow, to savour every single moment, every sound coming out of your mouth and every sensation flowing through your bodies.

Q = Quickie (his opinions on quickies?)

He’s the type who would rather take his time with his partner usually!! However, at certain times a quickie is an appreciated change of pace so to say. If having sex with him normally is all about your pleasure, then a quickie is usually more about him, and so he tends to get a bit rough during them (unless you tell him you don’t like that of course). He just needs you right here and right now, and if you’ve been out or one of you haven’t been home, there’s a chance the frustration has been boiling deep inside for a while, and now that he finally has you to himself, all of that will come bursting out of him at once. You can tell how much he needs you by the way he kisses you impatiently and how he manhandles you into the exact position he wants you in. It’s not rare for him to cum quickly in a situation like this, and not leave enough time for you to reach your high as well. So if the situation allows for it, he’ll slow down once he’s caught his breath and make sure you get your fair share of pleasure as well. But then it’s not really a quickie anymore so alksdöfjs yeah, he really is the type to want to indulge properly after all.

R = Risk (does he like to experiment or take risks?)

He’s not a risk-taker at all. That said, he prefers having sex when it’s guaranteed there’s no risk of getting caught in the act (it kinda ruins the mood for him ngl). However, I do think he loves the sight of watching his cum dripping out of you, so if it’s about not using a condom he’s down for it, so long as you’re using some other form of protection instead.

S = Stamina (how long does he last?)

Has A LOT of stamina. He doesn’t really need a long recovery period until he can go again after cumming once, but even then he knows more than enough things to do in between - whether that’s making out with you or going straight to getting you off again. I think he can last several rounds, and he knows just what to do to make sure he’ll have the energy to keep going for as long as possible.

T = Toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)

I do think he’s a fan of toys! Might have one or two for himself, but definitely has a few to use with a partner! Loves getting them out for in between rounds, so he can continue pleasing you while he rests. Toys to him are mostly about enhancing your pleasure, so he’ll pick them accordingly and discuss with you what you want him to use on you. He likes watching your reaction to them, and tbh he also enjoys that they allow for him to have a lot of control over you while being able to give you multiple orgasms once you’ve figured out what works best for you.

U = Unfair (how much he likes to tease)

Yunho isn’t much of a teaser originally, it’s really not something that needs to be a part of sex for him. He’s more of a praise kinda guy, but if you like being teased he’s up for trying! And seeing the reactions he can get out of you with it, it’ll quickly become something you do often. Vice versa, it can go two ways. If you’ve established a dynamic where he takes on a very dominant role he’ll definitely make you regret teasing him by teasing you back harder and maybe even going as far as not to let you cum until you’ve begged for it. However, if there’s no such dynamic between you two he’ll probably be super flustered if you tease him. Especially if your teasing is verbal while you’re going at it, he’ll be blushing so hard and won’t know how to respond cjxnxnxn

V = Volume (how loud or vocal is he? what does he sound like?)

He isn’t really loud. He definitely talks a lot - ongoing communication while you’re having sex is very important to him, plus he finds it hot too. Some dirty talk certainly gets him going! Otherwise he’s pretty quiet, but you will hear him moan as he gets closer, and then sometimes he’s just gonna let out the most unholy sounds you didn’t think he’d be capable of producing…

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

Your mind clouded by pleasure and your knees weakening, you’ve melted fully into Yunho’s touch. He has his arm around your waist, and if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re coming close to your orgasm you might’ve been embarrassed about your fucked out expression you find in the mirror right in front of you. Yunho has his face buried in your neck, kissing and nipping at the skin there, his slender fingers ghosting just above your core as he mutters a praise.

“So pretty for me…” he breathes and you arch your back just a little more, immediately feeling him hitting that sweet spot inside you.

“Y-yun… ‘m close…” is all you can whine, and you hear him hissing a curse below your ear. 

“Fuck, me too,” he growls through gritted teeth, all while never taking his eyes off the mirror. “Wanna see your pretty face when you cum.” You let out yet another desperate whine at his words, and when his fingers come in contact with your core for some extra stimulation, you know you won’t last another ten seconds. 

“C-coming… Yun… I’m-” Your high crashes down on you, and you feel yourself shaking violently in his hold as he lets out a strained groan and releases inside you, muttering once again how pretty you look in the mirror.

X = (X) as a mark (does he like marking you/being marked? where?)

While he doesn’t want any marks on his or your body to be visible when you’re wearing clothes, he does quite enjoy the sensation of getting marked. You marking him actually activates his possessive side, and is one of the ways to make sure he’ll get rough with you afterwards. Might mark you back, though he prefers doing it with his fingernails dragged across your skin than giving you a hickey. As mentioned before, he’s overall not the biggest fan of being made to feel pain during sex, but if you’re both very close and you end up biting or scratching him in the heat of the moment, that will very much add some more pleasure for him!

Y = Yearning (how high is his sex drive?)

Somewhere in the middle I’d say? Not suuuper high, though his sex drive definitely increases when he has a partner, especially when you haven’t been together for long. He’s not the type to want sex everyday - he’d much rather do it only a few times a week, on days where you can really take your time and enjoy yourselves. But don’t let yourself be fooled, once he does get horny he gets reaaaaally into it!

Z = Zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterwards)

As I already mentioned, he’s really big on aftercare, so most often he will stay up with you for another while after having sex. In general I don’t think he’s that easily tired out, so won’t be the type to blackout right away.

[leqonsluv3r]

nsfw alphabet

an: happy valentine’s day my lovelies!! i’m working on the oneshot currently but i thought i could get this out to tide you guys over until then. :,)) but ily all mwah mwah xx have a great day my loves. also imagine whatever leon u want, i just used re4 for aesthetic purposes <33

masterlist taglist

MDNI BELOW!!! 18+ only, istg.

A — aftercare (what are they like after sex?)

leon is BIG on aftercare, especially if he was rough with you. he’ll caress your body and make sure your doing okay. he will even sprinkle your face in kisses and tell you how good you did afterwards. he loves making sure you know that he enjoys these moments with you. also cuddles, just know this man needs it after the trauma he has endured.

B — body part (their favorite part of their partners body)

leon loves your lips and your tits, know this man loves every inch of you. but if he had to choose, it would definitely be your lips and your boobs. he’s definitely a boob guy, i just have a feeling.

your favorite part of him, his arms and his back, you love coating it in scratches (and he lets you). and you love how safe you feel when he holds you, not just during sex but all the time.

C — cum (what do they…do with it? or think of it?)

leon loves coming inside of you, manz cannot get enough of it. he loves watching you beg beneath him to fill you up. but if he had to have it his way, he’d cum all over your pretty tits and lick them clean of his spend.

D — dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

leon hates to admit it, but he loves those special times when he’s too exhausted and you just take control in the bedroom. he doesn’t like to admit it, but it gets him hard to think about you being dominant with him.

E — experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

leon is definitely experienced, he uses that to his advantage when he pins you down, bends you over, etc. he knows what he’s doing and he’s not afraid to show you that if your testing his patience.

F — favorite position (do i even have to explain?)

leon loves any position in sex with you, hell, the man is practically addicted to you. he takes you from behind, in missionary, etc. but if he had to pick, it would be when he puts you in a mating press and hits that spot that makes you see stars and makes your pretty face fall into moans and whines. he just loves seeing you fall apart and this position is perfect for that.

G — goofy (are they serious in the moment? or are they more goofy?)

leon is definitely serious at times when he has sex with you. but there are times when he’s kissing you and hears you let out little giggles that make his heart melt and he can’t deny how wide his grin gets. so therefore, he has his silly moments.

H — hair (how well groomed are they?)

leon is definitely groomed. he has hair where it counts; a small patch above his cock, beautiful and trimmed and a happy trail. he doesn’t have hair on his chest but he has some hair on his arms, a beautiful feeling when you run your hands over it. you don’t find it gross, it’s just the right amount of body hair on a man you want. he has some stubble when he doesn’t shave for a few days and when he’s eating you out, it definitely adds pleasure. (he doesn’t shave until afterwards for this reason entirely)

I — intimacy (how are they doing during the moment? the romantic aspect)

when leon first had sex with you, it was something that he took with intimate care. making sure you could take him in his entirety, checking on you and pressing kisses to your neck. he would keep his eyes on you the entire time. he still has moments when you guys have sex, his eyes finding yours and practically melting at the way you fall apart beneath him.

J — jack off (do they masturbate?)

when your not home; out with friends, working, etc. he does jackoff, he fists himself to the thought of you. imagining his hand is your mouth, your hand, or your pussy. he has no qualms, he doesn’t care. not even if you catch him doing it.

K — kinks (how many kinks do they have? what are they?)

leon definitely has a breeding kink, especially if you guys are married. he thinks that if he fucks you enough times, that it’ll finally take and you’ll have his kid. he doesn’t know where this kink came from, but you definitely don’t mind it, if anything it’s one of the many things you like when you have sex with him.

L — location (favorite places to do it)

leon loves fucking you in the bed. on the couch, anywhere really. he will find a spot and fuck you. even when your out in public, he’ll take you to a bathroom with a lock on it and fuck you, let you suck him off or even eat you out like a five course meal. mans has no chill when it comes to you, public sex or not.

O — oral (do they prefer giving or receiving? are they good?)

speaking of man’s eating, he loves giving you head. absolutely adores you. the sounds you make, the way you fist his hair, your eyes squeezed shut and dripping tears of pleasure, your back arched. he loves making you fall apart.

but he also loves receiving it, letting you get on your knees and suck him off, his hand going into your hair and holding you there as you make him fall apart. the way your eyes look up at him, all doe eyes and innocent, makes him cum in your mouth every single time.

P — pace (are they fast and rough? or slow and sensual?)

leon is fast if he wants to be. if you’ve been a brat all day, teasing him, he’ll take you as soon as your in the door. he’s fast and efficient. but there are mornings when his morning wood digs into your back and he just lazily fucks you from behind, slow and steady but still making you fall apart effortlessly.

Q — quickie (do they like quickies? how often if they do?)

leon loves quickies, especially in the morning after you both wake up. before you both have to wake up, and he has his morning wood. he loves to just lazily slip it in from behind you and pound into you from behind until you both fall apart. (goes hand in hand with pace 100%). but if he’s impatient, he’ll bend you over the kitchen table and just fuck you right there. he doesn’t even care if the window in his apartment is open.

R — risk (are they interested in experimenting? if so how far do they go?)

leon is open to experimenting, anything you wanna try/are open to trying. leon definitely wants to try anal with you, knowing you’d be open to it. any of your holes he can fill, he will. definitely is an ass man/tit man equally and wants to do anything with you.

S — stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

leon can definitely last longer then most, he has undeniable stamina. it’s gotten worn down over the years and it’s hard for him not to just cum the moment he enters you. but he definitely has stamina and can last three or four rounds before tapping out. definitely has something to do with all those years of training.

T — toys (do they own toys? if so, for their pleasure or their partners?)

leon didn’t add toys into his sexual encounters until you, he didn’t have the use or the need. he would just use his fist. but with you, he has a couple vibrators, a butt plug and a remote control vibrator. he loves teasing you with it when your being a brat, making you whine and beg for his cock.

U — unfair (do they like to tease? how much?)

leon loves to tease, especially when your being all whiny and desperate. basically clawing and pawing at his clothes like a wild animal. it’s a little ridiculous how much you want him, he’s so keen on teasing you, kissing your neck, biting down and marking the skin. he loves sucking on your tits, hearing your little sounds. it makes him hard as a rock, he does it until your absolutely begging for his cock.

V — volume (how loud are they? what do they sound like?)

leon is absolutely not above making sounds when he fucks, when he snaps his hips into yours. he can’t help but release a groan or a loud noise of some kind. but he’s not as loud as you, your definitely louder then him and he thanks god that his apartment walls are not so thin.

W — wild card (a thing you wouldn’t expect from them? in bed or otherwise)

when leon fucks you, especially from behind, he loves pushing his thumb into your ass (manz loves anal for some unknown reason), and it makes him audibly groan at the sounds you make while he snaps his hips into you. knowing that you love what he’s doing more then he lets on. he also loves fucking in the kitchen??? (again, for some unknown reason).

X — x-ray (what goes on beneath the clothes? what’s beneath the surface?)

beneath the surface leon was a soft six pack, it’s gotten less defined over the years as he’s slowed down a little in his missions. his facial structure definitely changed but he’s still as handsome as he ever was. he has muscle’s from all the running, heavy lifting and missions he goes on. his dick, very different story, he’s very thick and (i like to personally think that) it’s maybe seven or eight inches long, girthy, and does enough to satisfy you.

Y — yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

leon has a decently normal sex drives. but there are times when he feels like he just has to fuck you until he can’t feel his cock anymore. normally it’s about 5 times a week but when he’s really aching for you it’s about 9 times, it gets up there.

Z — zZzZ (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?)

if leon’s comfortable and he usually is after he has sex with you, he curls up in your arms, cuddling with you and holding you. he definitely is protective over you considering his job, so he takes these moments in your arms with gratitude. but he drifts off when you do when he knows your safe and content. he considers it an honor to fall asleep in your arms after you guys have sex, a very intimate moment.

[inuyashaluver]

hi! can i request a leila ouahabi fic where laia exposes that reader is her celebrity crush in a man city video and it blows up online and reader sees it, they start talking and then start dating!

celebrity crush - leila ouahabi

leila ouahabi x reader

description: in which leila says you’re her celebrity crush in a q&a video, how will you react when you’re in her rival team

warnings: suggestive if you squint

a/n: hiii, hope you enjoy the way i approached this, thanks for the request!

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, leila have to thank the manchester city and manchester united media teams for your relationship blossoming out of silly, mutual crushes.

you play for manchester united, being signed to them for over 6 years, you first met leila during a derby match in 2022. you have to admit, she left quite a good impression, first of all - she was gorgeous, she carried herself well and was an amazing player, you couldn’t help but feel intrigued by her.

leila found you extremely attractive, and so, during half time, she asked lauren hemp about you with flushed cheeks. lauren was your national teammate, she immediately smirks at the girl asking for you. “she’s a good friend, ouahabi, what, do you need me to put in a good word?” leila’s eyes widen, “no no no” she protests with a nervous laugh, “i just think she’s a good player” she rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. “hm okay” lauren says unconvinced.

you played in the midfield, occasionally, leila would come up to defend you when the ball was in play, always placing a gentle hand on you. you couldn’t help but grow a little distracted but snapping out of it when you realise the situation. that doesn’t mean you don’t miss the contact when it’s gone.

the game had finished in a draw, girls on both of the teams having frustrated expressions. you walk around the pitch, shaking hands and exchanging small conversations with the people you knew. you ran up to lauren and jumped on her, giving her a tight hug. “hempo!” you exclaim with a bright smile, you hadn’t seen her in a little bit. esme bolts over to wrap you both up in a hug, the three of you jumping around in a circle. you laugh as you all pull away, catching up with your teammates about random parts of their lives.

lauren couldn’t help but notice leila lingering with laia in the corner, watching them whispering. she excuses herself for a second and grabs leila despite her protests, pushing her into you, causing you to stumble forward, esme catching you. “woah” you laugh, turning around and making eye contact with the brunette.

“oh hey, leila right?” she nods and smiles at you, surprised when you pull her into a quick hug. “great game, had me panicking a couple times, i have to say” you grin at her and she smiles back brightly (she didn’t need to know exactly how she made you panic) , “you’re really good, you had me panicking a bit too” she says, matching your energy. you hear ella calling for you and you turn.

“well my rivals, lovely to see and meet you, but duty calls” you tap the logo on your heart and individually pull the three into a hug, saving leila for last, you were immediately engulfed in her scent, vanilla. how did she smell good after playing a full 90 minutes? - she was thinking the exact same thing about you. you send her another quick smile before running off.

there wasn’t a day that didn’t go by where the both of you didn’t think about each other constantly. immediately following each other on social media the day of your interaction.

—

you hadn’t seen each other in a while, only on derby days. every time you saw each other, it was just enjoyable, the two of you got along really well, embraces getting longer, and conversations came more freely and comfortably.

you had a day off for once, deciding to sleep in..well you tried, until your phone was blowing up with notification after notification. you immediately think the worst and see that everyone is telling you to check twitter, seeing that you're trending. you let out a sharp exhale before clicking on your name.

the first video had leila on the front and you quirk your brow, pressing play:

interviewer: “leila, who is your celebrity crush?”

leila smiles shyly and rubs the back of her neck and pauses for a moment.

leila: “well i have someone on my mind”

she teases

interviewer: “could you share it with us?”

leila lets out a chuckle, nodding her head with a soft smile

leila: “now don’t kill me for this but (y/n) (y/l/n) in manchester united is very cute, i like her a lot”

interviewer: “is this like a friend crush?”

leila: “oh definitely not, it’s a regular one”

she smirks at the camera, sending a small wink.

your throat goes dry, the girl you had been crushing on felt the same. embarrassingly, you watch the video again, smiling shyly at hearing your name come from her mouth. you hate to admit that you replayed the video multiple times that day.

—

you arrive at training the next day and are immediately teased as soon as you come in. mainly lucia, knowing the girl personally from her national team. “enough” was definitely used by you at least 100 times in reply - but not without your bright, pink cheeks on full display.

it seemed to have completely slip your mind that today was media day. you groan as you get pulled for a q&a video, already knowing what was coming.

interviewer: “i’m sure you know what questions we're going to ask you?”

you nod your head with a smile and a laugh, gesturing them to continue

interviewer: “who’s your celebrity crush?”

you smile shyly, feeling your face get warmer by the second. letting out a laugh, you lean forward, using one of your hands to cup the side of your mouth.

(y/n): “between you and i, leila ouahabi, i like her a lot, she’s very cute and talented”

you lean back cheekily, proud of yourself for making the bold move back, you definitely need this girl’s number instead of flirting over the internet

interviewer: “and is this a friend crush?”

the interviewer mocks the manchester city interviewer

you let out a bright laugh, wiping a few tears of laughter out of your eye.

(y/n): definitely, definitely not, a regular one for sure

you hold out a phone gesture to your ear and match leila’s wink at the camera

and of course, the video absolutely blew up, both of them getting edited together and posted literally everywhere. leila saw your video and had the exact same reaction you did, replaying it constantly throughout the day just so she could see your pretty face say her name so sweetly.

you made the move and asked lauren for leila’s number and immediately texting her.

from: (y/n)

hello my crush

from: leila

ahh hello my crush!

from: (y/n)

can i see you soon?

from: leila

you can see me whenever you want, amor (love)

the two of you had started texting, calling and facetiming for weeks, meeting up in manchester to go to lunches and other small dates. your ‘friendship’ was really just the two of you flirting and touching each other, it quickly developed into a romantic relationship, both of you decided to debut it during another derby day.

both of your teammates had known all about it, constantly prying into the both of you for details. and so, 20 minutes before you’re supposed to line up in the tunnel, you go and meet your rival team girlfriend. you knock on their change room door and esme answers it. “why hello!” she smirks at you, “ouahabi, it’s for you” you see your girlfriend perk up in the corner, her beautiful smile gracing her features. she hurriedly walks up to you, placing a hand on your waist and closing the door, directing you down the hallway in an empty spot.

“mi amor (my love)” she smirks, her eyes flickering between yours and your lips. “hi pretty girl” you move to place a kiss on her cheek but she moves her head quickly so you kiss her lips. she grabs the back of your head with one hand while the other squeezes the flesh of your waist, you cup her face with your hands and run your thumbs over the apples of her cheek. she gently pushes your back onto the wall and kisses you more passionately, her tongue infiltrating your mouth and pulling you closer so your chest was flush with hers. she dips her head to place a three kisses on your neck before pulling back to take in your appearance.

“so pretty” your lips were kiss swollen with blown out pupils as you smiled up at her. “you’re so pretty” she places a kiss on your nose and whispers in your ear, “be a good girl and let us win, bebé (baby)?” she presses a kiss to the tip of your ear. you grip onto the collar of her shirt and bring her towards you, “let us win and i’ll make it worth your time?” both of you look at each other challengingly, your competitive sides coming out.

“now you’re not my girlfriend, you’re the enemy, go away!” she lightly shoves your shoulder, but not before giving you another quick peck on your lips, “aw really?” you mock her with a pout, “yes really, i still have a crush on you though” you laugh at her words, sending her a wave and a wink before walking back to your change room, leila shamelessly checking you out as you walk away, only you could make her heart beat out of her chest in a manchester united kit.

—

the game was going well, you and leila played professionally for your teams and not letting your relationship come into play. manchester united were in the lead by 2-1. leila was marking you with a hand on your waist, you lightly press into her with your back before running from her and shooting the ball towards the net, securing another goal and making the score 3-1, your team huddle around you to congratulate you on the goal, you return to your position but not without leila squeezing your bicep as you walked past her. the final whistle blows just two minutes after your goal.

you exchange hugs and smiles with your teammates and make your round with the city girls. finding esme and lauren and giving them tight hugs before they push you towards you awaiting girlfriend. she opens her arms out to you and you step into her warm embrace. your arms thread around her neck as you holds you round the waist, lifting you off the ground and smiling when your legs wrap around her.

you look down at her with a soft smile, “sorry, baby” she shakes her head lightly at you, “you deserved it with that goal, mi amor (my love), i believe you said something about making the win worth my time?” she smirks cheekily at you, slightly breathless from playing a full 90 minutes. “oh did i?” you act confused before she lightly pinches the side of your stomach, letting out a laugh together. she places you on the ground but the two of you don’t remove yourselves from the embrace.

“can i say congratulations?” she questions, smiling when you nod at her. she places a finger under your chin to point your head upwards at her and places a sweet kiss on your lips. you smile into it when you hear the number of fans and your teammates cheering for the both of you. she pulls away reluctantly, keeping it relatively tame for both of your sake, knowing the two of you got carried away quickly and frequently.

“i’ll see you later?” she whispers against your lips placing a quick peck there, you hum at her words, mind gone completely hazy and only focusing on her. she smiles at you, pulling you into another quick hug before waving goodbye sadly - the both of you would meet with each other in about an hour.

every second you spend with your girlfriend, you feel eternally grateful for the manchester city and united media teams for making you both so bold.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by lauren_hemp and 44,232 other:

leilaouahabi: my celebrity crush everyone, @/yourname

view all comments

yourname: my celebrity crush is hotter

↳ leilaouahabi: mine’s hotter

↳ yourname: do you want to make a bet?

↳ leilaouahabi: name your price bebé (baby)

lauren_hemp: this was all me, you’re welcome

↳ yourname: thanks hempo!!

↳ esme.morgan: what! me too!

↳ leilaouahabi: thanks es!

[toruro]

i just think….toxic ex bf!dino who starts hoeing out to make you jealous.. he fucks any random girl at any random party but only thinks of you, making sure his hickeys are visible enough for you to see them, posting pics with randoms on his socials 💭

nectar of the gods

tags: smut (18+), angst, toxic chan (duhh), pet names (baby), creampie

w/c: 1.4k

a/n: this concept is insanity actually anon i am in love with u (WINK WONK WINK WONK WINK WONK) ..,,, pls visit my inbox more often :3

thinking about your toxic ex chan.

it's funny when you say that, because he was the one who said he wanted to end things on good terms; told you he wanted "none of that drama ... none of that petty shit." chan had said it so casually that you're now having a hard time trying to figure out if you're going crazy.

crazy, because just three nights after you two ended things, he was posting on his finsta (which, by the way, he demanded you stay on for the sake of keeping peace and not cutting ties) at some party you weren't invited to with some girl you didn't know dancing—no, grinding—on the same man whose lap you were bouncing on just a week earlier.

crazy, because two days later you go to hang out with your group of friends and of course chan is there (because when isn't chan there?), and you swear you haven't seen him wear a shirt with a collar that low in ages and ... is that a hickey? you might go crazy.

crazy, because you aren't sure if he expects you to stare ..,, crazy, because you swear you see his lips curve upwards into a smug smirk when you turn your eyes away, bashfully heating up in the cheeks. "you good?" he asks casually, when you choke over your water a little when you decide to glance back at him and catch second and third splotchy, bruising mark under his collarbone.

crazy, because you aren't sure why your stomach bubbles up with some nasty feeling of ... anger? uncertainty? jealousy?

crazy, because how could you be jealous? you broke up with him—told him you've got too much going on in your life, and while chan was great and all, you don't really have the time for a boyfriend right now. so really, you have no right to be jealous, isn't that correct?

fuck, you've gone crazy.

it doesn't help that you try to avoid him. the next week, you don't sit next to him in the lecture you have together, and you don't think chan'll make a fuss about it. after all, it seems like he's moving on just fine, so you hardly consider the fact that he might be just a bit bothered by the fact that you choose to sit next to seungcheol instead.

you don't expect him to walk up to you afterwards with a frown etched deep into his lips as he scoffs, "already throwing yourself on my friends?" to which you'd like to respond with: "aren't you doing just the same?" ... 'cept you don't say that, because that would mean you're jealous, right? and you're not jealous ... no way!

so you just shake your head softly and say that you're sorry for causing a fuss. that you'll sit with him next time. that you'll start talking to seungcheol less. chan grins at you and nods his head, and as he turns away to head to his car, you catch the fading mark on his neck from a few nights before, and wonder if you should say something.

you don't, of course.

that night you go home, and you're scrolling on your insta and then there's that bright ring around the chan's finsta and so curiosity undoubtedly kills the cat. maybe you tear up a little at the sight of a an obviously faded chan who's got his cheek pressed up against another girl's, both of them grinning as people party in the background.

and so you call him, and he's sweet at first. asks you, "hey what's up ... hey are you crying?" to which you respond with more sniffles. and you wanna hang up, you wanna hang up so bad, but then you think that if you cut the call he's just gonna go off and talk to that girl—or worse, he'll fuck her—and you're totally not jealous but you also totally can't let that happen.

and so you cry a bit harder—you replay the image of those stupid, big fat hickeys on his neck—and you let your tummy churn while you wallow in your own self pity.

"what's wrong baby?" chan asks you from the other side, and in the background you faintly hear the blaring techno and you briefly consider telling him you miss him, which is odd because you don't miss him ... do you? you just don't want him to go off with what's-her-face ... right?

and so you're silent, tryin' to figure out what you should say but then you hear this voice and it's too high pitched, too bubbly, too girly to be chan's, and suddenly your heart sinks right down to your stomach.

"channie, c'mon! let's have some fun?" the voice of a girl calls in the background, and you're just about to open your mouth and say something when chan beats you to it.

"i gotta go," he tells you in a rush and oh the sound of the line being cut will be you're undoing, because now the image of chan fucking this random ass girl burns into your skull and for some reason, you can't seem to shave it down.

and so you drown yourself in your tears, pressing yourself into the cushions of your couch and your sobs rack through your empty living room while chan is probably in some strangers room fucking the living daylights out of a cunt that isn't yours.

you think you might just fall asleep like this—alone in this dimly lit room with nothing but your tears dropping onto your lap; and so when you hear chan's voice you think this might be a dream, but then you look up and suddenly you see him.

he stands in front of you in all his glory, face flushed and faux blonde hair brushes just over his eyes as he walks closer to where you sit on your couch. chan shushes you when you ask him why he's still got your keys—tells you that isn't important right now—and he cups your cheeks and wipes your tears, asks you why you're crying, why there are tears in your eyes when "channie's right here ... channie's not gonna leave you ..."

and then he's kneeling in front of you, askin' you again why you're crying and so you cry even harder ... his hands are all over you, stroking your cheeks and then rubbing your shoulders, then one hand's on your hip and kneading the soft flesh and you think he's just trying to comfort you and so you cry even harder because you wonder whether he had his hands on that girl just moments earlier.

but then he's whispering in your ear, tellin' you he's gonna "make you feel better ..." but only if you'll let him.

his hands feel so nice all over you, rubbing up and down your thighs and—fuck, when did he slip his fingers between your legs? not that you care anyways, because even with your mind deluded with tears, you find the want to slowly hump your hips into his touch until he's slipping his hand down your pant, asking you if this is you letting him "make you feel good."

of course, you whine through your tears, nodding dumbly when he slips his rough fingers into your soaked cunt, murmuring into your neck 'bout how "channie's always gonna be here to make you feel better ... channie's never gonna leave ..."

he fingers you for a bit, and then he fucks you into the couch. it's hot and sloppy and heavy and messy, and it has you crying and panting—hands all over each other because you can't get enough of him.

your lips run all over his neck, his chest, collarbone—all of it, because you are in no way jealous, you just enjoy marking your territory. and chan fucks you so deep, groaning, "this pussy's made for me—just for me, you hear me?" and you are not a jealous person but you grin to yourself in this fucked out haze because chan is right.

you wrap your arms around his neck as he fucks you missionary, raking your nails into his back, tugging at the roots of his hair—doin' everything you fucking can to show chan that he might not be yours but he is yours, and you are his.

the thought that this might come and bite you in the ass crosses your mind briefly, but chan is quick to fuck your worries away, tellin' you "no one's gonna fuck you like this ..." and so you moan, and chan takes that as an agreement, so he fucks you harder until you're choking over your own sobs of pleasure.

"this pussy's mine, you got that baby?"

[princessbrunette]

kinktober : october 4th

anakin skywalker x breeding

tw: mentions of fertility — i hate this it’s so bad

anakin never really cared much for children, but god did he wanna knock you up.

as imagined, they didn’t offer great education on pregnancy at the jedi temple — so any knowledge anakin had picked up had been scoured for and researched meticulously by himself almost obsessively. he was fascinated with ovulation in particular, yours in particular — and when that incredibly fertile time of the month came, he was on you like a fly stuck in honey.

you certainly had no complaints, as ovulation period had you so horny you were convinced you could cum just from his strong hand gently brushing a knuckle over your cheek. anakin seemed extra focused during this period, a line forming between his brow, lips tucked beneath his tongue. he holds your thighs up so that you’re practically wearing your own knees as earmuffs, making sure your body drinks every last drop of him.

each plap of his pelvis meeting you inspires a whiny whimper to be forced from your body, staring up at him helplessly as he holds you in place, fucking you hard and deep. he adjusts his grip, eyes jumping between your own and your cunt.

“taking me so good my love, so fucking good.” he praises between grit teeth. your pussy was swollen and sore, and he’d already fucked several loads into you — but anakin had to be sure, and given his bounce-back time was incredible, he was ensuring that his balls are totally drained inside of you. pearly white seed spilled and squelched from inside you, gathering at the base and stringing against your folds everytime he pulled back. you felt completely stuffed with him.

“ani, c-can’t take another — i don’t know—” you whine, weak hands gripping at his strong wrists where his hands pinned behind your knees.

“i know you. i know you can. been so good for me this whole time, you can take it baby c’mon.” he groans and you know he’s getting close. despite your disbelief in yourself, your body betrays you and locks your ankles behind his lower back, forcing him as deep as he can go. your mouth moves without your permission.

“want your babies ani, please!” you beg, it’s dirty and desperate and it works— because he’s tensing up — a beautiful warm moan ripped from his throat as he collapses his weight on you, more of his cum shooting up against your cervix. you whine at the feeling, thighs trembling violently as he curses into your shoulder, slurred praises mixed in. eventually he pulls back, pushing tousled blonde curls off his face.

“maker.” he pants, and you sleepily giggle, stroking a hand up his sculpted stomach. sitting back on his feet, he pulls out— fingers quick to catch any seed that tries to follow, easily slipping them inside you. you groan, and he massages the cum what he thinks is soothingly into your sensitive clit to sedate you.

“shh, shh.” he counteracts your noises and you jerk, closing your thighs around his hands with a whine. “alright.”

leaning forward, he encases your cheeks with his hands, forcing your hazy gaze on his dilated fucked out pupils. he inhales, taking a moment before speaking. “you’re so beautiful. my sweet, sweet angel. how are you feeling?”

full, was the word you were looking for. totally full.

requested tag ! : @hanasnx

[britany1997]

Hey bestie

If the slot is still open can I have any form of Dwayne fluff. I’m back on my bullshit again and that bullshit is just the lost boys once more 🧡

Each Night Before You Go To Bed

(I really don’t do song based fics, this song just gives the vibes of what I’ve written, enjoy)

Of course I can write you some Dwayne Fluff! Hope you love this!

Dwayne x GN Reader

Warnings: some mentions of future child raising (but intentionally “raising” instead of “having” so reader could be whatever sex)

Dwayne’s arm hung around your shoulder, his finger laced loosely with yours. His thumb rubbed gently over your skin, a gesture so natural he barely realized he was even doing it anymore.

You spent every night together nowadays. Neither of you could stand being apart for very long. Dawn was agony, but you were thankful for every dusk that came with the promise of your lover gracing your doorstep. You’d never understood the “madly in love” cliche before Dwayne, but you got it now. Truly, madly, deeply.

As you walked along the boardwalk, intertwined, a thrift store caught your eye. You nudged your shoulder gently, prompting Dwayne to gaze down at you, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Can we go in there?” You pointed with your free hand and Dwayne followed the path of your finger before nodding. “Sure baby.”

You smiled softly, tugging him along with you as you entered the store.

You’d been meaning to check out Artifact for ages on Marko’s recommendation, he’d always had great luck with the pieces here.

You squeezed Dwayne’s hand gently as you disentangled from his embrace, leaving him to browse as you flipped through the racks.

A couple minutes later, when you’d found some things to try out, you glanced around to check on your boyfriend.

Your eyes scanned the store, and once they settled on Dwayne, your face twisted in confusion. He was starring intently at something, you couldn’t quite see, on the shelves.

Curious, you crept around quietly to catch a glance of what he was so fixated on. When you peeked over his shoulder, your heart melted.

Dwayne had been starring at a pair of baby tennis shoes. He didn’t even notice you come to his side he was so lost in thought as he stared.

“Whatcha thinking about?” You asked, resting your head on his shoulder and whispering in his ear.

He tensed for a second, then blushed. Actually blushed. You’d never seen him do that before.

“Nothing baby, just uh…got a little distracted,” he smiled sheepishly before taking the clothes from your hands. “Did you want to try these on?” He’d brushed off the subject but you weren’t quite ready to move on.

You gave him a knowing look before reaching around to pick up the shoes. “Let’s get these too,” you suggested.

His eyes widened as his cheeks flushed again, “what would we do with them?”

You grinned, “I don’t know, I just thought we might need ‘em someday.”

The corners of Dwayne’s lips turned up into a bright smile, causing you to smile as well. How had you never noticed he had dimples before? For a tall, dark and handsome creature of the night, he was adorable. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss his nose, causing his cheeks to flush for the third time that night.

He grabbed the shoes almost reverently, smiling to himself and wrapping his arm around you.

“C‘ mon baby, I wanna see how these look on you,” he gestured to the pieces you’d picked, still held in his other hand, as he led you towards the fitting rooms.

After leaving the thrift store the two of you wandered to your favorite spot on the beach.

It was completely deserted, save the two of you. Just the way you liked it.

You leaned against his bare chest, his right arm snaked around your waist in a comforting embrace.

When he’d told you he was a vampire, back before you’d started dating, you’d thought he’d be freezing. No blood circulation and all that.

But every time he held you, you never felt more warm. You leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, looking up at him fondly.

He smiled softly, leaning down to press his soft lips to yours.

“I love you you know?” he whispered.

You smiled brightly, “don’t get all soft on me because I’m gonna raise a kid with you one day.”

He frowned slightly, his brow furrowing as he shook his head.

“I don’t love you because of that,” he started, “I’d love you no matter what you wanted.”

He moved his head to rest against yours, “I don’t love what you can do for me baby, I love you.” He sighed, his eyes closing blissfully, “I love you more than anything.”

Your eyes watered and you turned your head to kiss his cheek. “I love you just as much,” you assured him. “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I wish I couldn’t,” he mused, his brow furrowing “had to wait a long time for you to come around.” He nudged you, “good thing you were worth it.”

You giggled, “no more lonely nights for either of us hmm?”

He nuzzles your nose with his, “never again,” he kissed your cheek, “what a privilege it is to be yours.”

You could feel your entire face flush bright red. “What’s with you tonight Mr. Romantic?” you teased.

He laughed softly, your favorite sound. “Just happy,” he told you.

You moved to loop your arms around him, “me too.”

Dawn was quick approaching as Dwayne dropped you off at your apartment. Your least favorite part of the night.

When the two of you reached the front door, his hands slid to your waist. He pulled your hips in gently as your hands snaked around his shoulders.

He leaned down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. You mewed into his mouth, one of your hands moving to tangle in his gorgeous hair.

You felt him smile against your lips as you stroked his hair. His hand moved up from your hip to your back, pulling you impossibly closer as his tongue slid into your mouth.

After awhile, you pulled away reluctantly. You wished you could keep going, but you’d hate to find yourself making out with a pile of ash.

You reached up to caress his cheek softly. He turned his head, his eyes closing as he kissed your hand.

“See you as soon as the sun goes down?” he asked.

You pressed one last chaste kiss to his lips, “and not a moment later.”

Taglist❤️ (comment to be added):

@6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @gothamslostboy @crustyboypix @ghoulgeousimmaculate @sad-ghost-of-garbage @anna1306 @chiefdirector @dwaynedelight @dwaynesluscioushair @its-freaking-bats @kurt-nightcrawler @ria-coolgirl @solobagginses @vampirefilmlover @vxarak @arenpath @bitchyexpertprincess @lostboys1987girl @arbesa-mind @softchonk @f4iryfxies @walmart-cereal @rynsfandomsfun @katerinaval @fraudfrog @memphiscity69

[rivatar]

Can I make a request for dilf!JakexFemale! Omatikaya!reader?

While Neytiri is out hunting with the kids, jake makes his way to readers hut. And let’s just say reader is shorter than Neytiri so size kinkkkk🤭

Guilty Pleasure

MDNI!🔞

Pairing: Dilf!Jake!Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings/content: SMUT, jake cheating(sorry Neytiri), size kink, stalking/obsessing, some roughness/power over reader, oral/face sitting (Jake being a pussy eating king), p in v, cream pie, dirty talk, a sprinkle of angst at the end

W/c: 3.2k (holy shit-)

A/n: thank you for this request anon!!💖 I am a SUCKERRRR for dilf Jake! I got a lil carried away heheh but I hope y’all enjoy this! Comments, likes, and reblogs are SO appreciated! Muah 😘

“We will see you later, ma’Jake,” Neytiri sweetly said while motioning for the kids to go out of the hut, holding up the flap of fabric for them to walk by. Neteyam and Lo’ak went first, throwing a hand up and bidding a short “Bye, dad,” with their bows in hand.

“Come with us daddd!” Tuk whined and ran up and clung to his side. He chuckled at her.

“I’d love to, kiddo, but I gotta take care of something. Ya know, all my boring adult responsibilities,” He smiled gently.

She frowned up at him but had no choice but to accept he wasn’t coming.

“Bring me back a big ‘angtsìk(hammerhead titanothere)!” He joked while bending over and ruffling her short braids in an attempt to cheer her up. She giggled at his absurd request and ran off to catch up with Lo’ak and Neteyam.

Kiri came moping out and rolling her eyes like usual, she was not excited that she was being forced to go hunt with them. It just wasn’t her thing. She gave Jake a quick “Bye” and walked out without looking at him.

“I love you too!” He laughed, “You’ll do great!” He cupped his mouth and shouted to her. She looked over her shoulder and couldn’t suppress her small little grin of amusement. She pretty much always blatantly disrespected him but he loved her to death.

Neytiri smiled one last time at him before ducking under the flap, following her kids to go off to their hunt.

Jake’s smile faded from his face once they were out of sight.

He had a lovely wife and an amazing family—everything he could ever want and dream for. But unfortunately for him, his heart yearned for someone else. Someone who occupied his thoughts day-in and day-out, consuming his entire being.

He started to resent you for how bad he wanted you. But how could he blame you? You’ve done nothing. Nothing but just be utterly and effortlessly perfect. He felt like you casted a spell on him, damning him to be desperate for you. You were quite the sight to see; young and beautiful in all your glory. He could worship your body all day— the stunning curves of your hips and the rounding of your breasts. You were short in stature, not tawtute short but very much on the short side for a na’vi girl. But that just made Jake be drawn to you even more. During his endless daydreams involving you, he would have some particular thoughts of you. Images flooded his mind of getting to manhandle you around. He was bulkier than the average na’vi due to the combination of his human DNA, so he had no doubt in his mind he could toss you around effortlessly in several different positions. He also inevitably thought about how much tighter your smaller pussy probably was. And fuck, it wasn’t just your stunning appearance— it was also the way you were so damn sweet and compassionate to others. You never did anything wrong, it was like you really were perfect.

He longed to touch you and pleasure you, he would die a happy man if he could just watch you cum for him. It wasn’t even that he wanted the pleasure for himself, more than anything he wanted to pleasure you. So many scenarios have ran through his mind of imagining how your pretty face would scrunch up as an orgasm wracked through your petite body. He felt like he was loosing his mind, he hasn’t had this many vulgar, horny thoughts constantly since he was probably 17. It was like you made him young again. He wanted to show you how good he could make you feel. After all, he was experienced. Whether it was keeping Neytiri’s needs satisfied or previous lessons from his sexual partners back on earth, he’s learned a thing or two over time. He wondered if you’ve let any of the omatikaya boys fuck you. He hoped not, but he was sure they were all throwing themselves at your feet. I mean who the hell wouldn’t?

Jake had been stalking you for quite some time now. He pretty much had your daily schedule memorized and he’s even learned all your little mannerisms. Like how you looked down at the ground when you laughed, or how you quietly hummed to yourself when you were weaving. Sometimes throughout the day you would make eye contact when passing by each other. He noticed you would give him a little smile. It was like you knew you were torturing him.

But watching you from a distance and stalking you wasn’t cutting the mustard anymore for him. Sure, it satisfied the itch at first but it left him only wanting more. And stroking his cock to you felt good, but not as good as your soft, dainty hand would feel doing it.

He knew Neytiri was taking the kids hunting today to let them practice. And at this time of day, you were usually in your hut. He decided there wouldn’t be a more perfect time than now to approach you. He couldn’t let this keep eating him alive, he had to do something about it. So, he gathered up the courage to start his way over to you.

…

You were in your hut, cooling off a little. It was a hot, sunny day in Pandora and you always take a midday break around this time. Right before you were going to sit down, you seen a figure in your peripheral vision. It was… Jake?

“Jake.. I-I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” you stuttered and shifted to face him respectfully, caught off guard by your leader entering your hut. “Is something wrong?”

He stood confidently, almost like he owned the place— I mean he was the Olo’eyktan. Which was why you felt concerned and surprised to see him, surely it must be something important if he took the time to come here.

He surveyed you as you stuttered and slightly fidgeted with a hint of amusement in his eyes. His piercing gaze burned right through you, making you feel small and embarrassed. But he was the one coming into your home, so why were your cheeks heating up in embarrassment?

He finally broke the silence and breathed out a sigh. “Yeah, I’m afraid something is wrong,” he spoke with that low, sultry voice of his and once again burned holes into you with his eyes. He took slow steps towards you, casually.

Your heart dropped to your stomach and the blood left your face. “W-What is it? I’m sorry if I’ve done something wrong, sir-“

“Don’t play dumb and innocent. You know exactly what it is.” He cut you off sharply.

You were taken aback, eyes widening in offense. “Excuse me?” You scoffed.

He kept inching closer and closer to you and you backed up in return, scowling at him. But unfortunately you backed up against the wall, having no more room to back up.

He was eyeing you down fiercely, power and authority exuding from his aura. But you weren’t a pushover, and you gave it your best effort at holding his eyes and not cowering.

He swiftly grabbed your wrist and shoved your hand on his hard erection covered by his loincloth. You gasped, once more taken aback.

“Understand?” He quipped.

You snatched your hand back and hissed at him. You were unable to form any words, so shocked at this predicament. Your scowl deepened and your breathing picked up, feeling the intensity in the atmosphere.

He let out a single chuckle of disbelief and shook his head.

“You do this to me. It’s your fault” he snapped, “You’ve been torturing me night and day and you know it” he accused with his pointer finger in your face.

Your mouth dropped a little, eyebrows scrunched in anger. “What?? I’ve done nothing! You’re fucking crazy!”

“You are such a little brat. Sounds like you need that attitude fucked out of you,”

You couldn’t help the coil that twisted in your stomach to his words. The obscenity of them made your body react with a mind of its own. Slick trickled out of your hole, making a little wet patch in your cloth.

His nose twitched and he grinned menacingly at your new smell of arousal. “Is that right? The lil’ slut needs her pussy stuffed with cock?”

Your cheeks heated up, making a purplish color on your face. You were losing this battle quickly. You blamed your body for betraying you so shamefully.

“Fuck you!” You finally said. It was your last attempt at trying to get the upper hand.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “That’s the plan.”

You scoffed again, still trying to make it seem like he was crazy and you didn’t want this. But in reality, you don’t think anything has ever piqued your interest more.

He put his fingers inside the band of your loincloth, tickling the soft area below your belly. Your heart thudded hard inside your chest and more waves of arousal coursed through you.

He slowly and lightly teased the area, making your breath hitch slightly.

“Not stopping me, I see,” he quietly mocked.

Your let your eyes fall to his chest which was right in front of you. You didn’t want to see the smug grin on his face.

“Now what if I touch your little pussy? Is she gonna blow your cover?” He taunted some more. You swallowed roughly as his fingers traced further and further down into your cloth until he got to your soaked cunt.

He ran a finger up your slit, eyes dilating as he basked in the incredible feeling of your slick pussy. Your legs parted on their own, giving him easier access and you whined softly, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, seemingly losing his control.

Your half lidded eyes met his again as he ran his fingers through your folds. You knew you were at the point of no return.

“Please..” you mewled quietly.

Trying to regain control of the situation, he straightened up and cleared his throat, still continuing his touching. “Oh so the brat has manners now?”

“Mhmm” you hummed shamelessly, pride be damned.

He licked his lips and looked down at your pretty lips, just waiting to be kissed. But he had other things in mind.

He yanked down your loincloth and it fell to your ankles then you kicked it aside. Then suddenly he knelt down and hitched one of your legs over his muscular shoulder, much to your surprise. You gasped hard at the first stroke of his tongue on your pussy lips.

“Oh!” You cried

You grabbed his dreads for support because your knees already felt weak. Looking down at him, the sight was purely sinful. He lapped, licked, sucked, and kissed all over your cunt, slurping up all your juices and making a complete mess on his face. He hummed and moaned on it, creating vibrations which elevated your pleasure.

He pulled back only for a second, your juices falling down his chin and painting his blue skin with white and clear shimmer. “You taste so fucking sweet, even better than I imagined,” he groaned in near disbelief. Then he continued working his mouth on your pussy.

You felt so good, feeling the most ecstasy you’ve ever felt. You’ve had a few partners and of course masturbate when needed but nothing and nobody has ever felt like this. He knew exactly where to go and how much pressure to apply and suck at.

He stuck a finger in your hole while he continued lapping on your clit. You moaned and fought to keep yourself standing up. He caught onto your struggle and swiftly moved to reposition you both. He laid himself back against the ground and had his hands hooked around you, bringing you down with him to then plop you right on his face.

Sitting on his face was much more comfortable and you tried to hold yourself up to hover some, but he grabbed your ass and pushed all your weight down on him. You switched between watching him do his thing and throwing your head back, closing your eyes and welcoming all the sensations. All his sounds were muffled but looking behind you and seeing his still rock hard erection and watching his feet curl and his legs dance around told you that he was very much enjoying himself.

You knew your orgasm was about to come. The pleasure was coming to a peak and you relaxed and let it happen. You came with a loud and drawn out moan, thighs shaking from the intensity. His humming got louder as he licked up all your essence, drawing out your high but letting off before you got overstimulated.

You rose off and scooted back a little to sit on his chest, looking down at his absolutely soaked face.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed out roughly, trying to catch your breath, “you didn’t tell me you were a pussy eating expert”

He chuckled with that deep voice of his, making your pussy flutter. “You thought the old man wouldn’t know how to eat pussy? Baby girl I am very experienced,” he winked.

You rolled your eyes at his cockiness, trying not to smile. Before letting you fully catch your breath, he sat up and effortlessly carried you with him, you were like a little rag doll in his huge, bulky arms. He hung you over one of his shoulders, ass up in the air. He smacked it and you let out a little yelp of surprise and smacked his back in return.

“You are so tiny, ya know that?”

You rolled your eyes once again. “Yes, everyone loves telling me how short I am” you complained.

“Mhmm well I think it’s hot as fuck”

He set you down on the table and you were facing him, legs spread out and pussy on full display. His eyes drank in the sight of your most intimate part, being fully captivated by you. You then took the reigns and slipped off your skimpy top, leaving him even more speechless. You smirked in satisfaction at how pussy whipped he was already.

He didn’t fail to notice your shit-eating grin and quiet laugh. “Oh yeah? You won’t be laughing much longer,” he threatened while untying the strings of his loincloth, letting it fall to the floor.

And it did in fact shut you up. He was huge. Your jaw hung low like an idiot and he laughed at you.

“You’re not that big. I’ve had bigger.” You lied, trying to sound confident.

He narrowed his eyes and felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of someone else getting to fuck you. “That so? Well then you should have no problem taking me,” he taunted.

You were nervous about how it would hurt but you put on a brave face. You spread your legs wider and gave him doe eyes as an invitation to go ahead.

His bigger body hovered over your small frame as he positioned his cock at your entrance. He teased your folds and your opening, making you buck your hips up in an effort to get him inside of you. His cockhead breached into your hole and you gasped in unison. He was so thick and girthy, the stretch against your walls was one you’ve never experienced this intensely.

He sank in deeper, thrusting a little to help break it in. You winced and moaned but stayed relaxed and let him keep going. He finally bottomed out. Then pulled back and started thrusting.

Your eyes widened and your jaw fell slack. The drag against your walls and the pressure his dick provided on your cervix made you nearly see stars, clouding your vision in a bit of a haze.

“Mmmm!! ‘s so good!” You slurred drunkenly, choking on your moans and cries.

He grunted and moaned above you, keeping a steady rhythm as his balls slapped against your ass.

“Holy shit” he gritted between his teeth, slightly baring them at you while he got caught up in the passion. He squeezed his eyes shut and his head slumped down, hanging from between his shoulders. “You’re gonna make me cum too quick” he panted.

You moaned in response, loving how you were breaking him. He cupped both your tits and gave them a squeeze, edging both of you on more.

“More!! Please!” You didn’t really know what you were asking for but he seemed to know right away.

He pulled out quickly and swiftly flipped you over, pulling you from the hips to scooch your ass up against him. He entered you again easily and plunged all the way in making you moan loudly.

“Cum on this dick, baby,” he grunted as he then started a fast and hard pace, increasing it from the previous pace.

His dick was now reaching so far up into you and satisfying all your sweet spots. He was fucking into you like a bunny in heat, hiking up one of his legs and placing his foot on the table to have a better grasp on you and a better angle to fuck you.

“Fuckkkk!” You screamed, getting your cervix pounding into over and over again. You felt your walls convulsing around him and knew you were getting close.

He pushed your head down into the table, his enormous hand pretty much engulfing the entire size of your head. Your hair fell around your face and was scattered in a complete mess.

“Shit baby, you’re close, huh?” He groaned.

“Yesss! Don’t fucking stop!” You begged and whimpered.

And then you felt your coil snap. The waves of sweet release spread throughout your whole body. Your pussy’s grip on his dick tightened, making him cum right after you.

“Nghh- gonna fill you up” he moaned while still bringing your ass back to meet his hips, slowing down and milking out both your orgasms. His hot cum spurted into your womb, filling you up just like he said.

He finally stopped his slow thrusts and pulled out gently making you whine as you felt some of his cum seep out.

He stepped back to admire his work, taking a mental screenshot of your cream pied cunt. He used his thumb to gather what had dripped and pushed it back into you.

“Your pussy looks best with my cum in it,” he admired.

You rolled over to your side, completely exhausted. You looked at him expectantly, wanting him to lay with you now.

He got your message by the look in your face. “I’m sorry baby but I gotta leave now. As much as I’d rather be stuffed inside you, I gotta get back to my place before my-“ he paused, looking physically pained, “before my family gets back home.”

Of course, you thought to yourself, how the fuck could you forget? Guiltiness flooded your heart, making it physically ache for his wife and kids. You felt terrible. You never liked a homewrecker and now you were a complete hypocrite and felt like a whore.

“Yes, o-of course… I’m sorry,” you offered weakly.

He weakly smiled as a response, pain still in his eyes as the post-nut clarity washed over him and guiltiness attacked his conscious as well.

“I’ll see you later, y/n.” And with that he left your hut.

Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @anemonelovesfiction @property-of-neteyam @luvv4j4ybe11 @loakstahni @fluorynn @zafrinaxyz @live-laugh-neteyam @nonamevenus @inolaphoenix @ladykat73 (if you wanna be added or removed, just lmk!)

[cl3fairyyy]

˗ˏˋ routine // edward nashton x GN! reader ˎˊ˗

summary // edward has always gone through life in solitude. he has the same routine, day in and day out, and he doesn't change that for anyone. he doesn't have time for friendship and looks down on his coworkers; their shallow gossip and strained smalltalk isn't worth his time. his way of thinking is soon flipped on its head when KTMJ hires a pretty receptionist to greet him every morning before work. what starts as innocent pining (as innocent as it gets for edward, anyway), soon spirals into something more, faster than he can control. alternatively, you score a cushy receptionist gig and start crushing on your cute coworker lol.

warnings // very brief mention of healed sh scars. edward and the reader smoke- reader is GN but is described as "pretty" multiple times. eddie is a little strange in this but that is just customary for him atp lol. a little angsty but mostly fluffy coworkers to more bc eddie deserves more soft fics :c no use of y/n!!

word count // 4.5k

notes // I haven't written a fic since my wattpad days so my apologies if this isn't great </3 I have been pining after the green man for far too long and have so many ideas in my system that need to come out !! I hope Edward isn't too OOC and would love any feedback on how to write him better :)) I might do a pt 2 if anyone is interested hehe

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Edward has never found any substance in socialising at work. He has never found the tedious break room small talk and uninteresting (probably fabricated) gossip that floats around the office to be very meaningful, and for the five years that he has worked at KTMJ, he has never had so much as a conversation, let alone friendship, with any of his colleagues. 

His daily routine is fairly simple: wake up, go to work, come home, eat (if he remembers), and sleep. All without interacting with anyone. Edward lies to himself, convinces himself that he prefers, even enjoys, living like this. He has crawled through this city, through this life, in solitude, and he has always been fine. 

But the ache in his heart and the lump in his throat when he lies awake at night, running calloused fingers over faded scars, say otherwise.  

Edward is lonely. 

His mind tends to wander when he turns in bed to look out the window. He watches groups of friends, drunk and stumbling down the old, cracked streets of Gotham, their rapturous (and rather obnoxious, he thinks) laughter echoing through his open apartment window. He imagines himself drunkenly walking alongside them, sharing inside jokes and funny anecdotes that make their cheeks red with laughter, and when he drifts off to sleep, he dreams of waking up in another body, another life, where he simply belongs. 

He wakes up on a day like any other, in his cold, empty apartment, alone. He begins his routine, shoving a piece of expired bread in the toaster as he neatens his tie and pulls on his loafers. He is happy with this routine. He eats alone at the table, checking his watch, mindful of the 8:15 bus. He leaves his apartment and catches the bus just as it arrives at his stop. The driver, an older lady, offers him a smile. He keeps his head down. He is happy with this routine. He enters the office earlier than usual, hoping to get in some extra work to avoid staying any later than he must. He is happy with- 

He pauses. 

The receptionist, a woman far too old to not be retired, does not greet him with the flick of her pen as she completes the morning crossword. 

The routine is disrupted. 

His coworkers are crowded around his boss' door, straining to see through the tiny window separating "us" from "them." Edward's mind is clouded with confusion as he catches the eye of one of his colleagues, a man named Will, a man he can't stand, a man who acquired his position (as Edward's supervisor) straight out of college, through daddy's money and connections. 

The routine is disrupted. 

"Word is that we have a new receptionist." He fills Edward in. Edward wonders if he only tells him this through some feeling of obligation, rather than wanting to share the latest office gossip with him. He simply nods, making his way to his desk.  

Back to the routine. 

After possibly the most intimidating introduction to a boss you have ever experienced, you are given a brief tour of your new office and shown to your new desk. You are given your new tasks and set to work on your new job. 

To be honest, it isn't entirely difficult. You are certainly overqualified, but you can't complain about being paid above minimum wage, in Gotham, in your twenties, for such a simple job. You remember reading that the best way to make a good first impression at a new job is to introduce yourself to your new colleagues, and, despite the anxiety welling in your throat, you put on a bright smile and set off to do just that. 

For the most part, your colleagues are nice, a bit bored, but they seem interested in you and that surely must be a start, right?  

The girl whose desk you're currently standing in front of (her name is Kate, you think?) perks up suddenly, seemingly remembering something. She gestures for you to sit next to her, and you do just that.  

"You seem nice. Like, really nice. But you seem like the kind of person who is so nice that it borders on naiveté." You tilt your head in confusion but nod for her to continue. "I want you to, y'know, actually have a chance of fitting in here. So let me give you some advice." 

She glances around inconspicuously before lowering her voice and tilting her head back ever so subtly. "That guy over there. Glasses. Yeah- okay, try not to make it so obvious that I'm talking about him. Don't bother trying to get a word out of him. The guy doesn't talk to anyone, and believe me, we have tried getting him to. I don't know if he's shy or thinks he's better than us or what, but he seriously is, like, mute. All he does is come to work and go home. He even eats his lunch at his desk." 

You try and mimic her subtlety, glancing up to catch a glimpse at the desk tucked neatly in the corner, and you're met with eyes behind glasses staring right back at you. You quickly look away, your cheeks burning at the embarrassment of being caught talking about someone. 

She smiles sympathetically at you. 

"I know this schtick you've got going on. Introducing yourself to the office so that we all like you." 

She snorts at your expression and continues. 

"Hey, chill out. It's seriously endearing. I was the exact same when I started and, to be fair, it seems to be working for you. I just don't want you to get offended or anything trying to talk to Edward over there, and getting nothing out of him, y'know?" 

You offer Kate a grateful smile and rise from your seat. 

"Thanks for the warning. I think I'd like to at least say hi to him anyway." 

All she offers you is a shrug, as if saying, "don't say I didn't warn you," as you wander over to Edward's desk. 

You smile at him, introducing yourself and holding out your hand to shake. Okay, he's actually pretty cute up close, you think, with big green eyes concealed by glasses that have slipped slightly down his faintly freckled nose. He meets your enthusiasm with a blank stare and a readjustment of his glasses, and your shoulders deflate a little.  

"You're, uh, you're Edward, right? That's what it says on your name tag, anyway."  

Silence. 

You giggle nervously. 

"Well, I- anyway, I'm the new receptionist. I'm really happy to be working with you." 

You're surprised at the sincerity in your tone, and Edward must be too, because you swear you notice his stoic expression falter for a second. 

Your hand begins to shake as it remains in front of his face, and the air grows thick with awkwardness. It feels like every single pair of eyes in the office is on the both of you. You begin to retract your hand when Edward gingerly reaches forward and shakes it limply. His bored expression doesn't change as he does so. 

"Likewise." 

With that single word uttered, he carries on typing away at his computer, completely ignoring you. Your legs seem to work at their own volition as they carry you back to your desk, your cheeks pink. 

Unbeknownst to you, Edward has been observing your every move since you stepped out of the boss' office. His desk is at the perfect angle, giving him a direct view of your own, and he had watched you approach all of your colleagues to give your little introduction speech. He had seen you chatting discreetly with Kate, and he had caught you peeking up to look at him. He had figured Kate had warned you to steer clear of him, and the thought had made his stomach sink. 

He thought you were very pretty, and since he had first caught a passing glimpse of you, his mind instantly had began to wander to thoughts of him approaching your desk, introducing himself confidently and charming you all within your first interaction. 

He had shaken his head at that, embarrassed by his little fantasy. He has never known the feeling of confidence in his life, and he had quickly resigned himself to thinking that you would be yet another coworker he would never interact with, besides a quick "good morning," and "good night," at the beginning and end of each day. 

The routine continues, and he is happy with that. 

The routine continues until it doesn't, until you meekly approach his desk and smile at him, and oh God up close you are so much prettier, he thinks, and then you're extending your hand for him to shake, that same dimpled smile on your face fading when he doesn't even acknowledge the action. 

Of course he manages to make you uncomfortable within the first five seconds of interacting with him. Before his mind can catch up with his body, he is shaking your hand and uttering the first word he has spoken in this office in a long time.  

He instantly has to break the intense eye contact he has held with you, pretending to type numbers into his computer, praying the colour of his cheeks doesn't betray him. 

When you walk away he feels guilty, he wishes he could will you back to his desk so he could play off his awkwardness as a joke, so he could pretend he is someone much cooler and much more interesting than Edward Nashton. 

But he can't. 

He has to watch you walk away, back to your desk, your head down to hide your embarrassment. 

When 5pm hits, you stand from your desk, stretching. God, that spinny chair does something awful for your back. You're packing up your things when Edward passes your desk. You offer him a smile as you wish him goodnight, fully expecting him to ignore you. 

Instead, he pauses and turns to give you a small nod before exiting the building and all of a sudden it feels like your face is on fire and your heart is pounding like you've just ran a marathon. 

Oh no. 

Of course you get a crush on your first day, and of course it has to be on the one person in the building that has uttered one singular word to you. 

You lie awake that night, tossing and turning in bed as thoughts of your colleague cloud your mind. Sure, you've always had a thing for nerdy guys, but nerdy guys who have a reputation around your office for being a complete recluse? Seriously? 

But he had spoken to you, he had acknowledged your existence. So what the hell does that mean? You sigh, rubbing your eyes before popping a melatonin. Your mind is racing a thousand miles a minute and you know there is no way you're getting to sleep otherwise.  

Edward's mind swarms with thoughts of you as he lies in bed, willing himself to fall asleep. He picks up his phone, reading the time, and sighs, opening up your social media page for seemingly the thousandth time that night.  

He has already scrolled through your entire account, has already studied every single photo and video you have posted until he has them memorised. He swipes through pictures of you at bars with your friends, videos of you dancing on vacation with tan lines and pink cheeks, and the countless selfies you have with your dog on your page.  

He imagines you introducing him to your friend group and him befriending them over drinks in your favourite bar. He imagines taking you away on lavish trips to Europe, Asia, South America, all the places you have on the bucket list posted on your profile. He imagines a domestic life built together, sharing an apartment with you and your dog, and he falls asleep with an unfamiliar warmth in his chest, hope rushing through his veins for the first time in a long time. 

Over the next few months, you grow closer with your colleagues- close to the point that you even see them outside of office hours. Close to the point that, when deadlines are met and the entire office throws a party to celebrate, Kate always manages to convince you to tag along. Close to the point that, after a long week, you and the small circle of friends you have made go out for drinks to unwind- and you have even found yourself inviting your other coworkers to join you. 

All of your coworkers, except one. 

The guilt consumes you every time you pack up to leave, smiling and laughing with your colleagues, when you catch a glimpse of Edward hunched over his monitor, ready to log even more hours of overtime. You have always considered inviting him along, but the only words he ever utters to you are quiet greetings every morning and the occasional "good night," when he leaves the office before you do. You don't even know if he likes you. 

You certainly like him. 

You're sure the blush on your face is undeniable every time you accidentally lock eyes with him when you swivel absentmindedly in your chair, or when you hand him his mail (which is rare for him to receive, you've noticed). You always try and find excuses to talk to him, and every time you do, you're left stumbling over your words and pink in the cheeks while he remains completely unfazed, unbothered and silent. 

You're determined to at least invite him for drinks. At any rate, if he says no, you can comfort yourself with the knowledge that you tried to develop some kind of friendship with him (while secretly hoping for more).  

It is such an easy task, one you have discussed frequently with your coworkers many a time, who have repeatedly encouraged you to offer an invitation to Edward- so you don't understand why it feels like lead weights have been tied to your feet and sandpaper has dried out your mouth when you mentally prepare yourself to go and speak to the infamous office recluse. 'It's no big deal! It's just drinks with colleagues!' you remind yourself, but the rapid beating of your heart does nothing to comfort you. 

You finally internally berate yourself enough to stand up and, as casually as you can, wander over to Edward's desk, a friendly smile on your face. Your shadow over his desk forces him to acknowledge you. 

You clear your throat somewhat awkwardly before saying with as much (casual) enthusiasm as you can muster, "me and some of the others are gonna head out for drinks pretty soon. We'd love for you to come!" 

You notice his eyes subtly squint behind his glasses as he sizes you up, before shaking his head, his gaze flickering back down to his monitor. 

"Can't. Got some messy paperwork here that needs correcting, and it can't wait until Monday." 

Your smile falters slightly and you manage to nod in understanding. "That sucks. We would've really liked you there. I wouldn't want it to eat up too much of your evening, so I won't keep you from it. Have a nice weekend, Edward!" 

His head lifts at your mention of his name, and when you smile at him, turning to leave, he clears his throat. quietly 

"I'm, ah, I'm sorry about that. Maybe some other time..." 

You nod in agreement, giving him one last smile before heading out with your colleagues. Oh well. At least you tried. 

Edward screams at himself internally for being stupid enough to turn you down, for having so much work on his plate that he has to reject an offer to spend time with you. His logic tries to argue with him that you are just a distraction from his greater plans, but for the first time in his life, he finds himself listening to his heart rather than his head.  

The routine is disrupted. 

The following Monday, instead of clocking in at 8:30am, Edward finds himself in the office at 7:45 that morning to begin his work day. When you enter the building (earlier than usual, he notes), you manage to shake off the shock of seeing anyone else here at this time, and give Edward a little wave. 

You sigh as you sink into your chair, lazily replying to the emails that have piled up over the weekend. While this cushy job has its benefits, God, the actual work is boring.  

You catch yourself repeatedly turning subtly in your chair to watch Edward work. Even though he's so far away, you recognise that concentrated look he has on his face when a particularly messy set of fraudulent taxes have him stumped. Before you can register what you're doing, you're walking across the empty office right up to his desk and Jesus, your hands are sweaty as hell. 

You manage to discreetly wipe them on your slacks before he looks up at you, his stressed expression all the greeting you need to begin talking. "I know we usually say good morning at my desk, but you were clocked in even earlier than me this morning." Your sentence ends with an anxious giggle, and when he narrows his eyes in confusion, you continue. "I, um, couldn't help but notice that you looked a little stressed... can I get you something to help? Water, coffee, anything? I'm all finished catching up on my emails so..." 

You trail off a little awkwardly and you swear you see Edward's lip quirk up in a tiny smile before returning to his usual poker face. You mentally slap yourself for expecting to get anything out of him; it's not even 9am and you've already annoyed him. Great. 

"If it's really no bother... I take my coffee black, one sugar. Thank you." 

He says the last part quietly, looking down. You smile, and head for the break room to get his drink, your hands shaking giddily. You have somehow gotten more words out of him in five months than any of your colleagues have in five years. You see that as a win. 

Edward sees it as the complete opposite. His brain is in chaos trying to focus on work but constantly wandering back to new daydreams of you. Daydreams of living together in your shared apartment, where you make him coffee every morning and bring it to him in bed. He can't help admiring you from afar, the way your well (tight) fitting slacks cling to you in the best way, and he has to physically rest his head on his desk to remind himself of where he is before his thoughts get too carried away. 

You place the styrofoam cup down in front of Edward and he nods gratefully. You take a sip from your own cup, watching him work, before you realise you're being weird, still lingering around his desk like some creep. You cough awkwardly. "I'm, uh, going to go sit back down now, let you get back to it. I hope the coffee isn't too gross." 

It's perfect, Edward thinks as he watches you wander back to your desk, and well after 5pm, when everyone has left, he fishes through the trash can uncer your desk and retrieves your styrofoam cup from that morning, placing it in a ziplock bag and taking it home with him. 

This is Edward's new routine. He comes into work early every day and sits in the empty office, doing as much work as he can so that he can muster up the courage to one day, finally join you after work instead of being swamped with tasks. For weeks, every Friday, you invite him to come drink with your little group, and every Friday he finds some flimsy excuse to flake on you, anxiety tightening his throat and dampening his forehead. 

You begin thinking you must be bothering him- he hasn't once accepted your invitation, and you tell yourself after each awkward encounter, 'this is the last time.' Yet, each week, you find yourself stood at his desk, legs trembling and mouth dry, anticipating rejection. 

Until, one Friday in late February, he gives you an awkward smile, shuffling the mess of papers on his desk. 

"I, ah, managed to wrap up these returns... I'll come along, if you want me to." 

You can barely believe your ears, and your shock must be evident because Edward begins to flush under your gaze. You clear your throat, a bright smile on your face as you bounce on the balls of your feet. "Oh, that's great! We're ready to leave when you are." 

Your small group bursts out of the office, your noses red from the February chill. You notice Edward lagging behind a little, and slow your pace to walk alongside him. 

"I'm really glad you took us up on our offer finally. We found this sweet little hole in the wall bar only a little way from here, and happy hour lasts until 9 on Fridays." You grin at him. "I know I don't know much about you, but I really think you'll like it. The vibes are super chill, and they play some decent music. You like The Cure, right?" 

Edward tilts his head curiously, and you flush as you scramble to explain yourself, so you don’t come off as an actual stalker. 

"I, just, um... I could hear you listening to them last week when I came into work early." 

He smiles, and the sincerity of it makes your knees go wobbly. 

"Yeah, hah, I- um- listened to them a lot when I was young. I guess I never really grew out of it." He chuckles nervously, fiddling with the strap of his work bag.  

You find a booth in the corner, and your group crams in, sharing the latest office gossip and complaining about how heavy the workload has been recently. You find yourself sat next to Edward and you smile at him as you settle back into the cracked vinyl of the booth, sipping your drink. 

"I can't imagine coming into a bar and ordering water after how much you've worked this week. How are you not halfway through a bottle of whiskey right now?" You laugh lightly, beginning to feel pleasantly buzzed. Edward readjusts his glasses and thanks God that the red LED lights hide his pink cheeks. "I'm not really a big drinker... I prefer to be in control of my actions." He pauses, eyeing you clutching your drink in his peripheral vision, before clearing his throat. "N- not that there's anything wrong with drinking. I just, uh, have never really been a fan. I don't think it tastes very nice." 

You giggle, slapping his arm lightly. "You don't need to explain yourself to me, Edward. I was only kidding."  

After an hour or two, and a few more cocktails, the bar begins to liven up a little. Most of your friends have gotten up to dance, but you ignore them, deep in conversation with Edward about Gotham's current political climate. 

"I thought I was the only one! Seriously, that shitbag of a mayor gets nowhere near enough criticism. They're corrupt, the lot of them, and I can only hope they get what's coming to-" 

You pause, realising Edward is distracted. He fidgets with the sleeve of his jacket while rapidly bouncing his knee up and down, and you notice him cringing at the volume of the music. 

You lean forward, resting a hand on his arm, your voice quiet as you whisper in his ear, "wanna go for a smoke?" 

Your voice is a lovely contrast to the music blaring from the speaker, Edward thinks, and he can smell your perfume with you in such close proximity. It's sweet and flowery, and he wishes he could have you this close to him forever. 

He nods, quickly standing and leading you out of the packed bar. The cold air hits you like a slap in the face as you make your exit, and you immediately regret leaving your jacket on your seat as you hug yourself, trying to stay warm under the broken heat lamps. 

Edward fishes a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and holds it out to you. You smile gratefully, plucking one from the box and holding it between your teeth. Your freezing hands tremble, fumbling the lighter in your hands, and you groan in frustration as the wind keeps blowing the flame out. Edward watches you from the corner of his eye and chuckles lightly, a newfound wave of confidence surging through him. 

"Want a hand?" 

You sigh, shutting your eyes and nodding in defeat. Edward laughs again, and it is a lovely sound; his laugh has an almost falsetto quality to it, and you can't help but smile back at him, your cheeks warm. 

Edward takes the lighter from you, his other hand reaching to cup over your own, protecting your lips from the biting wind as he lights your cigarette for you. 

It is such a simple action. 'There's nothing behind it!' you think, but it holds such an undeniable sense of intimacy. His warm hand lingers on yours, warming your entire body, and he doesn't break your gaze when he finally pulls away to light his own cigarette. 

The two of you stand in silence for several moments, watching the smoke you breathe out dance into the night sky, disappearing from view. You feel so relaxed around him, and you turn your head to watch him study the night sky, his eyes darting this way and that before landing on you. He smiles shyly. 

"I had a nice time tonight. I... honestly wasn't expecting to." 

He notices your face fall slightly before he quickly continues. "I wouldn't usually call this kind of place my thing, but... I found myself really enjoying myself. The company certainly didn't hurt." 

You smile at that, and he eagerly returns it. 

"Forgive me if I'm overstepping, but... I'd like to take you out sometime. Just me and you, away from all the noise." 

Edward can hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, and he's convinced he's dreaming. The smile on your face only grows. 

"You mean, like a date?" 

The redness of his cheeks deepens, and he nods, his knees feeling weak. You begin jotting something down in your notepad before pressing a folded-up piece of paper into his hand, blowing a plume of smoke just past his face. He can almost taste the nicotine and tequila on your lips as you lean towards him, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"I'm looking forward to it." 

With that, you flick your cigarette on the floor and turn on your heel, heading back into the bar. Edward unfolds the slip of paper to be met with the phone number he has had memorised since your first day working at KTMJ five months ago. 

The routine is disrupted.