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fairy-hub · 6 months

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𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff, light suggestive groping (thigh) with toji and mention of his dick being half hard - nothing happens, plenty of gentle kisses, all of them are soft for you why wouldn't they be look at yourself, establish relationship

8k fluff celebration!

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

Turning your head, muffling your yawn in Kento's chest covered by the softest sweater. "Mm stealing this sweater when you're done with it. You'll get it back when it no longer smells like you." Kento shuts off the TV, setting the remote underneath the side table lamp behind his head.

"How is this? I'll carry you to bed and you can sleep in my sweater. You need to get some good sleep." Yawning in response, tears blurring your eyes. Your jaw aching from how wide your mouth stretches from the sheer force of the yawn.

Slipping the blanket off of you, laying it over the back of the sofa. Kento sits up, wrapping an arm around your waist. Supporting you with a large hand on your ass. "Please, thank you Ken." Looping an arm around his broad shoulders, slipping your fingers into the nape of his sandy blonde hair.

Kento kisses the top of your head. "I love you so much beautiful, thank you for making this place a home. Can't think of going to bed without you by my side." Kissing the side of your head, hugging you tightly.

"I love you too handsome. It wouldn't be a home without you. The scent of your bread, the scent of your cologne lingering in the bathroom." Closing your eyes unable to keep them open anymore. Using all your energy to express, "Your coffee cups, books, house plants, and sweaters, everything. I love you."

Kento holds you with one arm, pulling the covers back. Leaning down, laying you down with care. "I'm deeply in love with you, and I fall again every day and night. With every smile, laugh, hug and kiss." He slips his sweater off, setting it on the edge of the bed next to you.

Slipping his arm underneath your waist and lifting your chest up. You hold your arms up for him to slip his sweater onto you. Before you lay down, Kento covers you in the soft blanket. Lovingly kissing your forehead, cheeks, and lips, tucking the blanket in along one side.

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

Turning off the tv. "You're adorable falling asleep on me, am I comfortable?" Kissing his neck, he softly sighs, tilting his head to the side. Slowly trailing lazy kisses up his neck, slipping your fingers into his hair.

Sliding your fingers through his hair. "The coziest." Gliding his large hand down your back cupping your ass. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders. Keeping the blanket from slipping when he slowly stands up.

Gently urging you to, "Never let me go, let's cuddle till we have to get out of bed for food. Then you can hug me from behind when I make us some breakfast." Flicking off the living room light. The moonlight coming the patio's glass doors lighting Suguru's way towards the hallway.

You mumble, "Will you feed it to me?" Suguru chuckles, his chest rumbling. Wrapping his arm around your waist, hugging you. You're too tired to reciprocate with more than a squeeze of your legs around his waist soaking in Suguru's love.

"Yes my queen can have whatever she wants. You can sit in my lap when I do." Climbing onto the bed, kneeling, sliding the curtain behind the bed's headboard shut. Slipping the throw blanket off of you, setting it balled up on the side table.

Laying down with you on his chest, you barely unwrap your legs, straddling his hips. Deciding Suguru's thick pecs are the perfect pillow. The steady beating of his heart is comforting. Pulling the blanket up over his and yours's body, arranging the pillow underneath his head.

Sliding his hand from your cheeks to your soft thigh. Resting his other hand on your back. "I want to wake up with you sleeping on me like this. You're adorable clinging to me." Kissing the top of your head. "I hope I dream of you. To see your beautiful face eyes closed or open is my personal heaven."

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

Flicking on the lamp on the side table near your head. Wrinkling your nose, your lips twisting in disgust at the light piercing through your sleep. "Aw you fell asleep waitin' on me how cute. I tuck ya up in bed, have a few, and then I"ll come lay down." Smiling at Toji's deep voice, taking a moment to process at he said.

Peeling the covers back, his eyes widen. "Fuck I should've gotten here sooner." Squeezing your thigh gripped by the garter belt. "Not only do I get to come home to you, but you look cozy and sexy. My shirt looks surprisingly good with these garters." Lifting you off the soft, holding you to his chest.

Kissing your forehead. "I bet that's 'cause you're the one wearin' 'em." Wrapping your arm around his neck, pressing your face into his hard pec. Softly biting. "'s that for being late. "m sorry like make it up to ya tonight. Won't let you go once; I'll be your big teddy bear." Smiling at Toji, you've missed the comfort of his arms.

Setting you down in bed, flicking on the lamp. "Mm teddy bear, missed you, your meanie being late by six hours. Worried." Toji turns around facing the pile of clothes in the hamper.

Struggle to keep your eyes open, for the sake of watching him peel his tight black shirt off. His thick arms flex, the muscles in his back tensing. Slipping his sweats off, turning around his cock half hard. "Sweetheart I'll always come back to ya, gotta put some more trust in me. Love ya too much doll."

He climbs into bed, pushing his baggy shirt up. "Love ya too teddy bear." Gently taking the garter belt off. Trailing kiss along the inside of your thigh. Throwing them onto the floor.

You slide your fingers through Toji's dark hair. He lifts its head, admiring you in his shirt before flicking off the light. Leaning down kissing your forehead, softly squeezing your hip, pressing his hard body to yours. His weight presses you into the bed momentarily. Rolling onto his back, pulling you into his side.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

You’re defeated, unable to open your eyes. The coziness of your head in his lap, his long fingers gently undoing your curls into a poofy mess. The tv has become a distance hum, the words becoming unintelligible.

Lightly poking your cheek. Smiling down at you admiring your beautiful face. He glances down at your lips. “You're such a sleepy princess!" Leaning down for a gentle, loving kiss. Which partly misses your lips from the angle he's at.

Using all your energy to smile up at him, your eyelids glued shut. "I can take your clothes off, and hold you close so I feel your warm soft body next to mine.” He lifts your head up, gently lying it down on the sofa. Standing up and scooping you up into his arms, holding you to his bare chest.

Satoru croons "You're definitely tired if you're not taking the chance to thank your heroic wonderful boyfriend in kisses when I'm saving you from walking." Slowly turning your head towards his chest and lazily puckering up your lips.

"Mwaaaa!" A yawn stretches out your kissing sound effect. Followed by an exaggerated one from Satoru. "Mwa." Your second one is barely audible.

"Aw beautiful you're making me sleepy too." There is a soft thud from his foot nudging the bedroom door open wider. "I need to show you how to properly cover someone in kisses before I go to bed. So you'll have to stay awake a few minutes longer." Laying you down on your side of the bed.

Climbing on top, straddling your hips, cupping your face. His palm is warm, and the gentle, slow swipes of his thumb are soothing. "Let me see your pretty eyes one more time so I can see them in my dreams." Opening one eye, then another.

Satoru chuckles, "What a beautiful frog my love is! I'd love you if you were a worm. But would you love me if you were a worm, and I was a bird?" When you don't respond within seconds. He cries, "You hate me!" Slipping your fingers into his snow-white hair, and pulling him in for a sleepy, gentle kiss.

oreo creampie's m.list

tagging: @sabo-has-my-heart @tojislittleprincesss @finding-crow @nicktoon1344 @arminsumi

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transalphabf · 11 months

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Gifted

It was normal in your pack for Omegas and Alphas to be traded, to help keep the bloodlines fresh and the peace upheld.

You were one such Omega, given to a pack known for their Alphas hunting skills, with a high number of true shifters. Not all packs could boast that, as many would have individuals born that simply became more feral under the glow of the moon.

You didn’t know who your mate would be, nobody really did until the Chase was underway. Your Alpha sibling had enjoyed their Chase the night before - It was customary for Alphas that mated into the pack to match first, in order to prevent any potential same former clan partnerships forming accidentally.

Your eyes scanned the assorted Alphas gathered. One tall, with sandy hair and a scar running up their jaw, another lean, with long red hair and fangs that hung over her lips, a third with short dark hair, and gleaming eyes, the fourth and fifth twins with matching hunger glinting in their flinty gaze.

You looked to the other Omegas who had come with you. There were four of you in total, to encourage healthy competition with the Alphas, two or three of which you could smell were true shifters. A low rumble came from one, catching the group of Omega’s scent on the wind.

You’d be given a five minute headstart to get your blood thrumming and allow you to evade capture if you truly didn’t wish to be mated, and you took off into the dense woodland, pausing to rub your scent on a few different trees to confuse the hunters. Then, you made for the sound of running water, jumping into the stream and following it up, until you came to a small covered area, an outcrop of rocks just big enough to stand up in. You wanted to keep running, but knew that sometimes hiding was a better solution- what Alpha could have tracked you up the river, after all?

You heard the sounds of another Omega moaning and shouting as they were caught and knotted up by an Alpha, somewhere in the near distance probably twenty minutes into your hiding, and then half an hour later saw familiar shoes of your cousin run past, chased by the twin Alphas, who would seemingly share her. Well, she always maintained she was too much for one Alpha to handle. You were more than thankful that you didn’t have to hear her being claimed and mated.

You let out a small breath of relief, still undetected. The only sounds you could really perceive was the river running past, and birdsong above. You lay your head on the cool stone, enjoying that you had successfully evaded any Alphas not worth your affections, eyes slipping shut for a moment, before hearing a growl from just above you. You held your breath, covering your mouth as you could hear the Alpha above you searching, sniffing you out.

After what seemed to be an eternity of slick pooling between your thighs, you heard him leave, and let out the breath you were holding. Not yet.

Until his hand grabbed your ankle and pulled you from the mouth of the small cavern, and you were pinned beneath the Alpha with gleaming eyes. He grinned at you, with sharp teeth, and you felt your body react instinctively, offering your throat to him. He leant in, and licked a long, slow stripe up your neck. You moaned softly, and his hand rested on your chest.

“If you don’t want this, tell me now.” He growled softly, but, emboldened, you found yourself reaching up to his cheek, meeting his gaze.

“I want this. I want you.” You spoke, without even really thinking for more than a moment. You didn’t need to think longer, not with how good his scent was. Your cunt clenched down on nothing at his responding growl.

Easily, he tugged down your shorts, exposing your slick, slightly puffy cunt to the cool air. He eagerly dove between your thighs, and pressed a thick, slippery tongue inside of you, making you gasp, your head thrown back as he lapped up your excess slick and ground his nose against your omega cocklet, making you gasp and shudder again. He pulled away after a moment, inspecting your pink, throbbing hole.

“Never been filled?” He asked softly, and you nodded, confirming that. He groaned and kissed your thigh, before stripping down.

“I can’t promise I won’t shift while claiming you. It won’t hurt too much, though, don’t be afraid - I know we look monstrous.” He murmured, and you felt your body tighten for a moment just imagining how it might feel to have him shifting inside of you. You hadn’t even felt his cock yet, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how it might feel being stretched even further.

“Breed me.” You pleaded, gripping his shoulder, your nails pressing in a little. He growled at that, and quickly pressed your legs up to your chest as he filled you, every inch making you feel even fuller. You glanced down, to see how much was left, and clenched on his thick cock when you saw the slight bulge in your stomach. Three more inches, and then his cock would be pressing everywhere inside of you. Your head fell back, and he sank in those final few inches, the tip pressing hard on your cervix, making you gasp, hips rolling a little, before he shifted his position slightly, making you see stars.

Then he began to fuck you. It wasn’t slow and gentle like a beta might do, you’d been told that they were always careful with Omegas, not wanting to hurt them. No, he fucked you like you were his personal knot toy. Maybe you were, but that wasn’t too much of a problem for you, not really. It felt too good to complain about, and every thrust dragged along your gspot which served to have you writhing beneath your Alpha.

As you felt yourself getting closer to cumming, you had the forethought to warn your Alpha, and he sank his teeth into your neck, claiming you right as you came on his cock, your nails drawing blood from his shoulders as he continued to fuck into you, body shifting, growing, changing as he continued to fuck you as hard as he could.

Your eyes rolled back as his cock grew impossibly bigger inside of you, and fur erupted along his body, the tip of his cock more tapered now as he became the ‘monstrous’ werewolf that he warned you he was.

If anything, you found it even hotter, and came again when the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix, and you felt the never used before muscle trying to open up.

He became uncontrollable, then, and began doing his best to fuck right through your cervix, the nerve endings firing orgasm after orgasm through your body. It was madenning.

When the tip of his enormous lupine cock finally breached your cervix, he let out a low noise, and his knot inflated rapidly, cock pulsing into you as rope after rope of thick, virile cum was fucked into your womb.

Yes, you’d been picked by exactly the right Alpha.

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#werewolf knotting #werewolf nsft #knotting nsft #omegaverse t4t #omegaverse nsft #werewolf knot #werewolf smut #terato nsft #terato #nsft #monster nsft #cervical penetration #cervix penetration #it's not a trans alpha boyfriend post without this kink lets be real #ftm nsft #trans masc nsft #knot nsft

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beautouslysandy · 2 months

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a pretty little valentines for you and me

by: sandy

dallas winston x gn!reader

word count: 380 words

warnings: mushy, lowercase intended, lovey-dovey things, super short, basically just love in one big bucket :)

a/n 💌: i am back!!!! this is super late but a fellow fanfic author invited me to write a fanfic for valentines but um..your girl kinda forgot. so here it is! enjoy! sorry its so short, i am trying to get back into writing! i hope y'all like this, its been a hot minute since i have written fanfic!

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"so, do you like it doll?" dallas asks nervously, he is rarely nervous

you and dallas were currently at y'all's favorite diner. in y'all's booth. dallas had just given you a promise ring. you were shocked. you didn't think that the dallas winston would be into this kind of thing.

you look up at him and nod, smiling. your eyes are a bit watery, you think its just from the overflow of emotions you have felt all day.

this had been the best valentines day ever.

"i really like it, babe," you say smiling then you glance back at the promise ring on your left middle finger. its an infinity sign ring and it fits you perfectly.

"its my promise to...." dallas began, he cleared his throat and his face grew red ever so slightly, then he proceeded to look down. he mumbled. "you know love you forever or whatever, doll."

you were grinning from ear to ear now, partly because of how sweet the gesture was but also because you knew that meant a lot coming from him.

"i love you more." you joke

dallas looks at you with his goofy grin you have grown so fond of.

"no way in hell is that possible doll." dallas says chuckling

the waiter finally brought your food to y'all, you had been waiting thirty-five minutes. far too long for a local town diner.

"what took so damn long?" dallas said to the waiter, returning to his old self and not the lovey dovey mess he was only a minute ago.

"sorry, the kitchen is really backed up." the waiter says handing us our food.

"sure it is, this place is packed." dallas says sarcastically as he bites into his burger. you hold down a laugh, as you didn't want to embarrass the waiter further.

the diner was empty besides the normal 8 o'clock crowd, which was just a few young adults and old people.

the waiter walks away, and you start laughing, you catch dallas looking at you with seemingly stars in his eyes.

"what?" you ask, your laugh dying down

"nothing, doll" he says smirking then goes back to eating

"happy valentines" you say grinning

"happy valentines, doll" dallas says and he bends over the table and kiss you softly

p.s. sorry i am so late to this @rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me

#safe haven #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders imagine #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #dally winston #matt dillion #dallas winston fluff

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berriwritertingz · 3 months

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the summer i wrote | one

content: future smut, fluff, angst, basically all of it

pairing: milo manheim x afab!reader & ross lynch x afab!reader

summary: every summer, you travel to dahlia's beach to reunite with your mother's closest friend and her son. but this year he unexpectedly brings a friend along. caught in the gentle waves of affection and longing, you find yourself navigating uncharted waters where the boundaries of friendship blur.

notes: this is loosely based on the summer i turned pretty. i just watched the second season and lawwwd i wanted to make a ff soo bad. plus milo and ross have absolutely none anywhere.

masterlist

You loved Dahlia's beach. It always smelled salty with a hint of expensive barbeque if you were in the city. But near the countryside there was the sweet smell of honeysuckle. That's where you would rather be, where the tall grass met the sandy dunes. The sounds of hooves on pavement and bustle around the farmers market on a hot weekend afternoon.

This summer was no different. Your stomach churned, rumbling in excitement as you neared the beach house. It was huge. Five bedrooms with enough bathrooms. Too many patios surrounding it. Turquoise colored pool with a small waterfall. The house was a blueish gray color with white accents. Calm and minimalistic, much unlike the other grand colorful houses on the street. It sat like a diamond around other stones in a non normal way. The most priceless of them all. Placed directly in front of the beach but not close enough to tourist spots so it was always quiet. It was always such an amazing way to spend the three months in between school. You looked forward to it every year.

But that wasn't all you looked forward to.

Your mom honked as you guys entered the driveway. A wide smile plastered on her face. Your mom seemed to love this place more than she loved you, even if she denied it when you asked. You knew the truth. Summers at the beach house were the only time she got to see her best friend, Camryn.

"Hey!" A voice squealed from the porch. You shuffled out of the car, legs aching after a long 5 hours. As you stretched you were met with Cam, arms spread jumping for joy. Practically knocking you over. They were best friends from high school. Going to college together and even sharing a dorm room. With how they acted every time they met, you were convinced they had separation anxiety. They didn't get to see each other throughout the year. Other than here of course. For they lived states apart, Dahlia's being a quiet beach town that was located in the middle.

Camryn engulfed you in a bear hug first, gushing about how pretty you are. Making you do a spin in your dress. Once she pulled away she did the same to your mom whose high pitched voice could be heard from the beach. As they talked about how ‘different’ each other looked. You watched as they walked inside hand in hand when your eyes met his.

Milo.

He radiantly smiled as he trotted over to you. The classic hands in pockets, ruffled hair, and expensive glasses. It was like he had a glow up every year whether it was him dressing better or maybe getting a bit taller.

"Hi" He cooed embracing you in a tight hug. The smell of his overpriced cologne filled your nose. It reminded you of sugary trees and cool waves. Much like the beach house. He was another reason you loved the beach house so much. Without him you were stuck with two middle aged ladies whose celebrity crush was Liam Neeson and only watched tv shows made by Shonda Rhimes. He was fun. He never made you feel left out or alone. He was everything any girl could wish for. Tall, smart, rich, and incredibly good eye candy.

"Hello, Milo." You smiled as he let you go.

He ran a hand threw his hair looking down at you. Eyes trailing down your body strangely. His expression was unrecognizable. Your face heated up turning your head to avoid his gaze. He touched the bottom of your dress. Yanking the fabric gently.

"This is a little short isn't it?" He questioned eyes meeting yours. Lips curled up in a sly smile. Rolling your eyes you scoffed slapping his hand away. He acted like a big brother sometimes. Especially with your clothes. Every summer complaining about how short your shorts were or how revealing your bathing suit was.

"Oh shut up you do this every-" The sight of someone else on the porch caught your eye. "Who's that?" You questioned raising an eyebrow.

Milo turned around and nodded in acknowledgement as the boy made his way down the stairs. Bleached blond hair slightly overgrown and wide smile on display as he made his way towards you two.

"Y/N this is Ross, Ross Y/N. He's staying the summer with us this year." Ross reached his hand out to you. Clad in silver rings that looked a bit out of your price range. Does Milo have any Middle Class friends? It was unusual. No one ever came to the beach house from back home. It was like a unsaid rule between everyone. Written in big red letters 'No Strangers'. The dads didn't even bother coming even though Milo's paid for it.

"Nice to meet you." He looked you up and down a tongue swiping over his lips. "Milo didn't tell me how pretty you are."

"Dude!" Milo exclaimed punching his shoulder rolling his eyes.

"Thank you." You beamed softening your voice. Milo scoffed walking towards the trunk slightly bumping into Ross. But he didn't seem to mind, hazel eyes still trained on you.

"So where are you fr-" Ross was cut off by a slightly pissed off Milo. "Are you guys serious? C'mon Ross help me with these bags." Ross walked away backwards eyes still focused on you with that addicting smile of his.

"See you inside?" He whispered loud enough for you to hear him.

You didn't respond. Only nodding as you strolled inside.

a/n: soooo what do you guys think? im still trying to figure out this tumblr writing stuff im so used to just reading ive never written and posted anything on here lololol. pls be patient with me! a few tips and tricks would be greatly appreciated!!

taglist

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 5 months

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The Golden Ratio - Part Two

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Derogatory language, angst, smut, virginity loss. Word count: ~4.7k

Chapter summary: Her and Michael struggle with the social side of university, and with each other. Series masterlist.

Author's note: For @assortedseaglass. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

She is halfway through her second can of Carling, having downed the first as soon as Michael handed it to her, before she feels ready to speak.

In a rare display of empathy, he had handed her a lager the moment he’d opened his door to her, clearly having taken note of her miserable state. There isn’t a mirror in his room, so she has no idea of how puffy her eyes may still be from crying.

The beer is warm, but it’s doing its job and that’s all she really cares about right now. With every pass of the fizzy, amber liquid down her throat she feels lighter - she doesn’t normally drink, so it doesn’t take long.

“Go on then,” she says miserably, drink held in a loose grip between both hands as she perches on the edge of his bed. “You can say ‘I told you so’.”

“About what?” He says, eyeing her carefully, from where he is seated on his computer chair, turned away from his desk to face where she currently sits, the frame of it creaking slightly as he sits forward.

She exhales, keeping her gaze fixed on the ring pull of her beer. “Rich…he’s…he’s been cheating on me.”

“Oh.”

Michael clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable, and for a moment she thinks he won’t say anything else. Her mouth turns downwards bitterly, thinking it’s best she just leaves.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, so quietly she almost doesn’t hear it.

Her head snaps up, eyes locking with his, and he leans back as though wary of her reaction.

“For what?” She asks, a mirthless smile tugging at her lips as she cocks her head.

He bows his head, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger. “I dunno,” he glances back up at her, “just something people say, isn’t it? When something bad happens…”

“I don’t want your empty words,” she tells him, setting her can down by her feet before resting back on her palms. “Tell me what you’re really thinking.”

“You’re already upset,” he states matter of factly, “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Fuck what you think!” She exclaims, shifting back to the edge of the bed. “Tell me.”

“Alright, fine,” Michael sighs, “I think Rich is a fucking loser, and him cheating is the best thing that could have happened–”

“Wow, thanks–”

“No, let me finish. He’s reading art, for fuck’s sake! What could you possibly have in common? You can do better, you’ve got a brilliant mind.”

Brilliant.

In two years, Rich had never once called her that. A feeling of warmth passes through her as her eyes meet the vibrant blue of Michael’s.

“You really believe that?”

“I know that.”

They stare at each other in silence for a few seconds, and she has no idea what possesses her, but suddenly she is leaning forward, pressing her lips to his. He is hesitant to respond, and when he does it’s chaste and uncertain, a marker of inexperience or unwillingness which she cannot decipher, so she pulls away.

But then he is chasing her, large hands cradling her head as he tugs her back, his mouth finding hers once more. This time the pressure is equal, their breathing heavy as the sticky sound of their saliva grows more significant.

Moving from the bed, not breaking the kiss, she straddles his lap, ignoring the way the chair wheels back against the desk with a heavy thud. Her fingers thread into Michael’s short, sandy hair, as the embrace deepens, her tongue brushing against his. She grinds herself down upon the rapidly growing bulge she can feel beneath the zipper of his cargo shorts, causing a rumble of approval to vibrate from deep within his chest.

It feels good to feel wanted, but as their hands paw haphazardly at each other through their clothes, doubt creeps into her mind. If this is his first kiss, then it would be his first time too. He is her friend, her project partner, she has just broken up with her boyfriend. None of this is a good idea.

Reluctantly, she pulls away, sheepishly climbing from his lap. They’re both breathing heavily, and Michael gingerly adjusts his glasses as he looks up at her in silent question.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” she says breathlessly, running a hand through her hair, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m a bit pissed and got carried away…”

“Oh,” his eyes widen, as he nods in understanding, subtly moving to adjust himself in his shorts, “of course. I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”

She reaches out a hand, not quite touching him, but wanting to placate him as she fervently shakes her head. “No, no, it’s me taking advantage. I don’t want to ruin things between us. We’re friends.”

“Friends?” The way his eyes light up as he says the word makes her smile, hopeful that she hasn’t caused irreparable damage between.

“Yeah, friends.”

She needs that more than anything right now.

“So, what are you hoping to do once you graduate?” Michael asks, glancing between her and their collective notes.

It’s the day before they are due to present back to Professor’s Byrne’s class, and they have met in the library to go over everything one final time.

In the days since their kiss they have grown closer; sitting next to each other in the remainder of their introductory lectures and meeting up to work on their project, though they both know it is complete and needs nothing else doing to it.

She has grown used to Michael’s intensity, would go as far as to say she is fond of it, and genuinely looks forward to seeing him each day. Oxford feels far less lonely with him by her side.

“Something in the field of medical research,” she says, her fingers playing absentmindedly with the delicate softness of the petals of the sunflower head they’d cut down a few days prior. I read Professor Byrne’s paper before I applied here. It inspired me.”

“The one on biomedical systems?”

Her eyes light up as she smiles at him. “You read it?”

“Hmm. An interesting read, though I much prefer mechanics.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“Yes, I think so. I’ve been reading a lot about random matrix theory. I’d like to go into the field of statistical mechanics.”

“I look forward to reading one of your research papers one day.”

They hold each other’s gaze for a moment, though she doesn’t miss the faintest of pink that tinges his cheeks.

It’s the day of the presentations, and just as she’d suspected, almost every group in the glass has presented back a table relating to how the Fibonacci sequence creates a spiral. Her and Michael share a knowing look, a smug smirk of satisfaction on each of their faces.

Aside from one presentation, which did in fact focus on rabbits, but delved too deeply into mating habits to be considered mathematical, theirs is entirely unique.

She beams with pride as she catches the impressed smile of Professor Byrne from the corner of her eye as they stand at the front of the lecture hall, talking through their findings.

“Very well done, both of you,” she tells them as they return to their seats.

The compliment makes her heart soar, providing her with a rush that lasts long after the class has been dismissed.

“Let’s go to the pub,” she says excitedly to Michael as they walk down Woodstock Road, away from the Mathematical Institute.

“You want to go to the pub? It’s the middle of the day.”

“There are no more lectures today, and I feel like celebrating. We really impressed Professor Byrne.”

Fifteen minutes later they’re sitting in the Lamb and Flag. A bright pink straw juts out of the neck of her bottle of Smirnoff Ice, and she rolls it between her fingers playfully as she watches Michael sip his pint.

The pub is half full with other students, all either skipping lectures or making the most of a free period.

“I told you that focusing on flowers would make us stand out,” she says, unable to suppress her grin.

Michael swallows his beer, wiping his mouth the back of his hand once he’s settled the pint glass back down on the beer mat. “Yeah, you did. We made the rest of the class look like losers,” he says with a chuckle.

“Yeah, we make quite the team, don’t we?”

He smiles, lowering his gaze and nods. There it is again, that adorable pink flush that dusts his cheeks.

“I’m gonna go to the loo. Will you watch my drink for me?”

He nods, watching as she stands and walks to the ladies.

Five minutes later, she can no longer see him at their table as she returns, though both their drinks are still there. She peers around the corner, seeing him standing before a larger group of students. A few she has seen around before, though they’re not on their course.

“So, is she your girlfriend then?” She overhears one of the guys ask Michael.

“No, not my girlfriend,” he responds, “but I’m helping her get over a break up, if you know what I mean.”

She swallows, feeling her heart lurch as she listens, unable to believe what she’s hearing.

“Oh yeah? Really helping her get over it, I bet,” the guy says, earning raucous laughter from the rest of the group.

She storms towards them, deciding she’s heard enough. Despite wanting to sound angry, her voice trembles as she speaks, betraying the tears she’s fighting to hold back. “I haven’t slept with you!” She shouts at Michael, meeting his shocked, wide eyed stare. “I would never sleep with you!”

Turning on her heel, the pub door swings open with a squeak of hinges as she pulls on it. She walks quickly down St. Giles’, swiping angrily at the tears that have begun to roll down her cheeks.

How could he? They were supposed to be friends and he’d talked about her as though she was something cheap. She had thought Michael was different to everyone else.

Back in her room, a hollow ache has burrowed its way into her chest, as she lays flat on her back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. The high of that morning’s presentation is long forgotten as her mind races with thoughts of what she’d overheard in the pub.

Why had he spoken about her like that? Had he been pretending to like her all this time just for the sake of the presentation?

Nausea swirls in her gut as she’s startled from her throughs by a soft knock at her door. She knows who it will be before she even answers it, and is half tempted to simply ignore it, she doesn’t want to see him. However, curiosity gets the better of her and before she can stop herself, she’s moving towards the door to open it.

Michael stands on the other side, posture not as straight as it usually is, as his shoulders slope and he looks at her imploringly. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he looked remorseful, but he is too self assured for such emotions.

“What do you want?” She asks tiredly.

“I’m sorry,” he says meekly, his voice softer than usual. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” she snaps. “So why did you?!”

“When you went to the toilet, that group called me over, started asking questions and I…I don’t know…I just wanted to feel what it would be like to be normal, just once. I–”

She feels anger run hot in her blood, nostrils flaring as he speaks and cuts him off. “I’m not here to act as your fucking cloak of normality, Michael! Fortunately, we’ve already given the presentation.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, brows pinching together with concern.

“I mean that the need for us to continue speaking to one another is over.”

She slams the door in his face, choking back a sob.

Fuck Michael Gavey. She is so incredibly angry with him, she wants nothing more to do with him. And yet she can’t understand why it hurts so much, somehow this feels worse than what Rich had done to her.

The next few days are torturous. She avoids Michael as much as she can, sitting away from him in lectures, looking away when she catches him staring at her. Seeing him online on MSN makes her heart ache, yet she can’t find it in herself to simply block and delete him. It feels too final somehow, worsened by the fact that she stares obsessively at his username, a part of her hoping a message will pop up from him. It never does.

Life goes back to feeling bland and lonely, with nothing to look forward to anymore. She goes about her days, alone, and then sits in her room, alone.

A week later and she is back in Professor Byrne’s class, only this time she seats herself as far away from Michael as she possibly can, trying not to think about how happy she’d felt to present beside him the last time she was in this room.

“So, I hope you all enjoyed your introductory project,” she begins, as she enters the room, setting her briefcase down upon the desk at the front. “It wasn’t just an exercise in presenting what you know about the Fibonacci sequence, it was a test of how well you work in pairs. That being said, the person you worked with will also be the person you are paired with for your upcoming tutorials with me.”

Her heart sinks.

No, no, no.

Chancing a glance over at Michael, she feels herself grow hot as she sees he’s already looking at her, and she quickly turns away. She had hoped to be able to avoid him, but now would have to spend an hour in close confines with him once a week for the remainder of first year.

Her heart races for the rest of the lecture and she finds herself unable to concentrate, hurriedly packing her bag and rushing to leave the room the moment they’re dismissed.

Unfortunately, Michael has beaten her to it and is waiting for her in the corridor. She bows her head, moving to step around him, but he blocks her path.

“I’ll ask for a different tutorial partner,” he says, “you needn’t worry about having to interact with me.”

She looks up at him, her eyes wide with shock. Her throat tightens as she’s met with the sight of his baby blues, boring a hole into her. “Don’t…don’t do that. It would look bad to Professor Byrne. We can both be mature about this.”

Silently she forces away the sadness she feels at him not wanting to be partnered with her. He’s in the wrong, not the other way around, she has to remind herself.

“As long as you’re sure?” He asks, shifting from one foot to the other, clearly feeling as uneasy as she does.

“I’m sure. I’ll see you around,” she tells him, finally stepping past and walking away.

“See you tomorrow,” he calls after her.

What?!

She rifles in her bag, pulling out her freshly printed timetable.

There it is. Tutorial - 9.05 - Prof. Byrne.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

She is filled with restless energy until the next morning. Her leg bounces involuntarily as she sits in the armchair next to Michael’s in the small, stuffy room of Professer Byrne’s office, who is seated opposite them.

Her eyes scan the shelves of books, the various notebooks that are fanned across the table, anything to avoid looking at Michael, until the older woman speaks.

“So, I hope you’ve both come with notes prepared to discuss the various ways of describing and displaying data, as discussed yesterday?”

Her face blanches. She’d been too distracted following the tutorial announcement to pay attention, and hadn’t heard her assign this. She has done no reading or note taking.

Michael glances over at her, taking in her worried expression. “Actually,” he interjects, “I think we may have misunderstood the instructions. We worked on this as a pair too, I hope you’ll forgive us just this once?”

The professor sighs, crossing her legs and tapping her pen against her pad. “Fine. Just this once. But I require individual work moving forward, you aren’t earning your degrees as a joint effort.”

“Understood,” Michael nods, rifling through his papers. “Here,” he says, leaning across and handing her a few sheets. “These are your notes.”

Slowly she takes them from him, her eyes scanning the pages, mostly graphs and tables of data, easy enough to understand and explain, without needing context.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, offering him a small smile.

The tutorial goes ahead without any further hiccups. Michael talks passionately and competently about what he’s read and the notes he’s taken, and she manages to talk through the data points he has provided her. If Professor Byrne suspects any unpreparedness, she doesn’t say.

Once it’s over and they step out into the hallway, she hands the papers back to him. “Why did you do that?” She asks quietly.

“You hadn’t prepared anything,” he says with a shrug.

“That was really nice of you.”

“It’s the least I owe you.”

“Thank you.”

He nods. “It won’t happen a second time. Come prepared next week. I want to hear what that brilliant mind of yours can come up with.”

There it is again. Brilliant mind.

She smiles at that, though her heart twists painfully in her chest as she watches him walk away. This is what she had wanted, she has to remind herself, he’d disrespected her.

Another two weeks go by, and though she is lonely it gets easier not having to avoid Michael. She finds their weekly tutorials are something she looks forward to, enraptured by how fervently he speaks about each topic, and preening with pride as he sits clearly impressed as she talks through her own notes and findings.

She misses him, though she is too proud to admit it. He had hurt her, and she’d told him to stay away. It would be humiliating to crawl back to him after that.

It’s Friday night and she’s in desperate need of a snack, so heads out of her room in the direction of the vending machines, running straight into a group of girls from her floor as they’re walking out.

Their giggles die down to silence as they see her, all offering her awkward, but obviously fake smiles.

“Not out tonight?” One of them asks, she’s fairly certain her name is Annabel, from what she’s heard in the corridors.

She shakes her head. “No, not tonight.”

“You could come out with us? We’re off to The Bull.”

She scans the faces of the other girls, all clearly less than enthusiastic about her presence, then shakes her head. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Oh, darling, I wasn’t asking,” Annabel giggles, grabbing her arm.

Less than thirty minutes later she finds herself squashed around a table in The Bullingdon, next to Annabel. She recognises Felix and Farleigh as part of the group they’ve joined, all passing around Jägerbombs and cigarettes.

She feels out of place and underdressed, in jeans and a long sleeved shirt. The rest of the girls are all dressed up in colourful, sparkly eyeshadow and low cut tops.

Amidst the din of their laughter and seemingly endless chatter, set to a backdrop of ‘SOS’ by Rhianna, she can barely hear herself think. She sips anxiously at her coke, pressing her lips together and shaking her head when Annabel jiggles the 35cl bottle of vodka she’s produced from her bag, asking “want some voddy in that?”

Her focus is pulled away when she spots Michael tucked away in the corner. He’s sitting opposite the guy she saw him with on the first night, whose name she has since learned is Oliver.

Her and Michael lock eyes and he gives her a polite nod before returning his focus back to his own conversation. To be so close and yet so far from him makes her ache.

Try as she might, her gaze keeps wandering back to him, unable to focus on the people around her. She watches with keen interest as he rises from his table, headed towards the gents as Oliver makes his way to the bar.

“Olly! Olly! Over here!” Shouts Felix, and to her surprise, Oliver skulks over, with the body language of someone who’s about to ask them for spare change rather than join their group.

She raises an eyebrow as Felix shuffles over, making space for him to sit down and wonders if Michael will join them too.

Her question is answered when he returns from the toilets, giving Oliver an awkward wave which goes unanswered.

“Shit sorry,” Felix says, “are you here with your mate?”

“Nah, he’s just leaving,” Oliver says nonchalantly, accepting the shot he’s been passed.

From the way Michael bows his head and leaves the pub, she knows that’s the furthest thing from the truth, and shoots Oliver a pointed look.

“‘Scuse me,” she says quietly to Annabel, pushing out of her seat and following after Michael.

The chilly October air is biting against her skin in juxtaposition with the sticky warmth of the pub, as she attempts to follow his lanky gait.

“Michael, wait!” She calls after him, hurrying her steps to catch him up.

He stops, turning to her, a look of defeat on his face. “Go back to your mates.”

“They’re not my mates, and they’re not yours either,” she says softly. “I saw what Oliver did to you, that was out of order.”

“The closest thing I’ve felt to normal since coming here is hanging out with you,” he tells her. “The rest of them are all vapid cunts.”

“Then let’s go back to hanging out again,” she offers, stepping towards him.

“After what I did to you?” He asks, raising his eyebrows.

“I miss my friend,” she says honestly, “come on, we’ll make our own fun, we don’t need those losers.”

He laughs softly, and for the first time in weeks she feels whole again.

There’s an odd sense of coming home as she steps inside of Michael’s room, the welcoming warmth wrapping itself around her like a familiar blanket.

“There’s beer under the desk,” he tells her, closing the door behind him.

She makes her way over towards it, pausing when she sees the papers on top of it.

A First Course in Random Matrix Theory for Physicists, Engineers and Data Scientists is printed in large font on the top page, she lifts it away, seeing that on the second is a simple dedication to her.

Her heart flutters as she draws in a shaky breath. “What’s this?”

“Fuck!” He exclaims, eyes going wide as he steps towards the desk. “I hadn’t expected you to come back here. I’d forgotten I’d left this out. You said in the library a few weeks ago that you’d be keen to read my first paper when I published it. It isn’t finished, but I wanted to dedicate it you, since you made my first week here so–”

She presses her lips to his, hands reaching up to cup his cheeks as she kisses him fiercely. Michael returns the gesture, long arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her close.

“...so wonderful,” he finishes breathlessly, pressing his forehead to hers when they finally part for air.

“I look forward to reading it,” she grins up at him.

“Well, if you wanted, you could–”

“Do you really want me to read your paper right now?” She asks, gripping the front of his t-shirt and pulling him towards the bed.

“On second thoughts…”

He pulls her back in and their mouths meet again, desperate and needy as they topple onto the bed, tugging eagerly at each other’s clothing, quickly undressing each other.

Their pace slows once they are fully bare, and she runs her hands up and down the length of Michael’s sturdy back, enjoying the weight of his lithe body on top of hers.

“I missed you,” she whispers.

“I was an idiot,” he tells her, holding his weight up on his palms.

“Mmmm. The most stupid genius I know.”

He huffs a laugh. “I think I know just the thing that might cheer you up,” he tells her, moving down her body.

She props herself up on her elbows, watching with keen interest as he moves down her body, placing her legs over his shoulders once he reaches the juncture of her thighs.

He is hesitant at first, studying her closely, but then presses forward. She yelps at the sensation, all of his focus is on the bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex, and it feels electrifyingly intense with the motion in which the tip of his tongue moves against it. It’s too much.

She squirms, pushing him away with a squeal.

“Did you not like that?” He asks, seeming unsure of himself as he sits on his haunches, adjusting his glasses.

“It was a bit too much,” she admits, giggling slightly.

“Oh…sorry,” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “I read you’re supposed to shape out the letters of the alphabet when you do that. I’ve always been more of a numbers man, so I went for Pi instead.”

She laughs loudly, reaching for him when he bows his head in embarrassment. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later. Right now, I just want you.”

“Come here,” she says, leaning over to rummage in her purse for a condom. “May I?”

He nods, shuffling closer as she tears open the packet. He hisses through his teeth when she wraps her hand around him. He’s warm and thick, foreskin silky smooth as she gently rubs her hand up and down the length of him, feeling every ridge and vein.

“Is this your first time?” She asks softly, as she rolls the rubber from tip to base.

“Um…yeah…is that a problem?” He asks, reluctantly meeting her eye.

“Not if it isn’t for you,” she tells him earnestly, free hand stroking his cheek. “Do you want me to go on top?”

He shakes his head. “No…no, I want to feel you.”

She smiles in understanding, laying back and coaxing him to move over her, spreading her legs to accommodate him.

He feels heavy against her entrance and she fights to resist the urge to cant her hips forward, wanting to take things at a pace he’s comfortable with.

His jaw slackens as he pushes forward, and she sighs in pleasure at the slow stretch of him bottoming out inside of her. Their breaths are hot against each other's necks as he stills, adjusting to the new sensation.

When he eventually withdraws to slowly push back in again, she moves her hips in time with his, encouraging him, and he quickly finds a rhythm. They are a clash of teeth and tongues as their mouths meet messily, hands exploring each other as the bed creaks beneath the exertion of their movements.

“F–fuck…you feel good..” he mutters, causing her to moan and her toes to curl, as he nudges against her sweet spot.

She could come from this if he keeps it up, and she can feel herself clenching around him as the beginnings of her peak approach. Right as she teeters on the edge, he groans, pulsating and spilling into the sheath that separates them.

“Sorry..” he whispers, looking at her with fogged up lenses.

“It’s okay,” she reassures him, her fingers stroking through the hair at the side of his head, brushing over the temple of his glasses. “It felt good.”

“But you didn’t…you know…”

“Plenty of time for that,” she says, pecking his lips. “Like I said, we’ll make our own fun, won’t we?”

“Get another condom then,” he says, pulling out of her. “I’ve still got some making up to do.”

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adnauseum11 · 3 months

Text

H.E.S.H. (High Explosive Squash Head) (John Price x Reader)

You wake up with John and get your day started with a bang.

This is just pure unadulterated smut. MDNI.

1.5k words

CW: swearing, graphic depiction of oral sex

feedback welcome

HESH is an acronym for a British anti-tank round

You wake up way too hot, and immediately realize the folly of your ways the previous night. John Price is a bloody furnace, and at some point in the night ditched his shirt, leaving the expanse of his hairy chest exposed. Apparently even in sleep your subconscious is undeniably attracted to him because you’ve plastered yourself against his side despite the heat of the man. Your palm is resting on his sternum, rising and falling with his steady breathing. Your leg is shamelessly thrown over his thick thigh. He’s got one arm stuffed under a pillow and the other underneath your body, corralling you against him under the blanket. You lift your head, running your lips over the corner of his shoulder before you can stop yourself. He sighs reflexively but doesn’t seem to wake, buying you some time while you process.

As you attempt to lift your thigh to shift positions you realize his heavy morning erection is resting dangerously close to the top of it. You pause and bite your bottom lip, risking a glance at John’s face. He’s still sleeping, his breathing unchanged, apparently immune to the tiny shifting you’ve been doing. You carefully slide your hand down his chest, the wiry hairs crinkling under your palm. You’re trying to get some leverage to lift up and over John’s hips but he’s not giving you much space to work. You shimmy your hips against him, wiggling slightly, and that proves to be your undoing.

A deep inhale is your only warning before John’s vivid blue eyes crack open. When you look up at him from under your lashes you find him staring back, his expression soft.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You’re apologizing gently in the weak morning light but John’s dragging his hand from under the pillow to cup your face, shaking his head slightly. Another deep inhale and then you can feel him speaking as much as you hear him, his chest rumbling with his sleep roughened voice.

“S’alright gorgeous, we overslept anyway. Lucky it’s the weekend.” His answer soothes you immediately and you admire him for a moment. Lovely, dear John who’s always more concerned with you than himself. His sandy brown hair is askew and his expression still sleep softened, making him seem more like the young man you remember from your youth. From one clenching heartbeat to the next you decide on a course of action. Before you can overthink you move to action, catching John off guard.

Pushing yourself onto your knees you let the blanket pool behind you, suddenly revealing John’s broad form to the trickling sunlight. You flatten a palm on his sternum, holding him in place when he tries to sit up, his turn to play catch up with you now. You’re easing over his hips, settling yourself down on his stomach, knees pressing into his lats as he groans, slightly arching underneath you. You hunch over him, sliding your palm up his chest to cup his chin, holding him where you want him as you kiss him.

For such a physical man John is happy to be pliant. Like a man who can’t believe his luck and isn’t looking to test it, his hands are careful on your body. His palms find your thighs, sliding up and grazing the meat of your ass before gliding back down to your knees. You don’t let him distract you, focusing on the rasp and glide of his tongue instead of what his hands are doing. You’re both panting for air when you finally break apart, John squeezing your thighs, fingers dimpling your skin. His groan as you shift over top of him makes you smirk, the only thing between the heat of your bodies a simple pair of black underwear and the soft, threadbare t-shirt he gave you to wear last night.

“Christ, don’t know what I did to deserve this sort of wake-up call.” He murmurs, his fingers working their way under the hem of the shirt to smooth up your sides with languid strokes. His touch is addictive, pulling at your brain along with the glide of his skin on yours, making it nearly impossible to think straight. You can feel the flex of his muscles under you as he moves and before he can distract you further you shimmy down his body, trailing open mouth kisses over his torso as you go. He’s stroking and petting whatever part of you he can still reach, his stomach flexing under your mouth. He seems content to let you run the show, watching you through heavy lidded eyes.

John’s body is covered in scars, the thin strips of healed flesh devoid of hair, making your heart clench for him again. You linger, pressing wet lips to as many as you can reach for a moment, your hand stroking over his hip, curling over the band of his boxers. You can feel the tension vibrating off John’s body, his breathing beginning to turn ragged. You give a light tug on his boxers and he automatically lifts his hips, his abs jumping against the backs of your fingers as he does so. His erection bobs, his cut shaft thick, the head flushed deep red and beginning to weep beads of pre-cum. You drag your palm over the jumping muscles of his belly, wrapping fingers around the base and making him groan on an exhale.

He's about to say something, gathering a breath, so you cut him off, running your lips along the side of the shaft. When you reach the tip, you brush your lips over it as you speak.

“Shut up, John.”

He huffs a laugh and then sucks a breath through his teeth as you close your mouth around the tip, sucking lightly. You drag the flat of your tongue around the head, lapping at the underside, making him twitch and arch his back. You swirl your tongue around the tip, reveling in the salty taste of his body while John’s fingers tangle in your hair with a hissed curse followed by your name. When you look up at John his eyes look nearly black, the pupils dilated with desire.

“I won’t last if you keep that up, love, I’m too sensitive –“

You squeeze the base, ignoring him as you run the tip of your tongue through the slit, applying the faintest sucking pressure before backing off. He groans, loud in the stillness of the room.

“I don’t care, I want you to feel good.”

You oblige him anyways, switching to bobbing on his cock, your fingers squeezing and gliding in tandem with your motions. You fall into a rhythm, your weight balanced against John’s thighs allowing you to feel each shudder and jerk of his body. Heat pours off him, sweat rising on his skin as you work him over, his body winding tighter like a spring. A tight muscle low in his abdomen flutters and you switch back to focusing on the tip as his fingers clench in your hair.

“Fuck, you’re going to make me cum.” John warns, his head thrown back as he pants into the morning light. His desperation only encourages you, focusing on sucking on the tip as you swirl your tongue in tight circles, trying to hold his big body down with a palm on his abdomen. His hips stutter as he comes, his body locking up as his orgasm tears through him with a shout. His fingers grip your hair as you swallow around him, lifting off him slowly. You look up at him and fight to keep a smirk off your face. John’s wrecked, his chest heaving and his head thrown back in the pillows with his eyes screwed shut. There are spots of flushed colour on his cheeks and his chest, the effect you have on him written plainly across his body.

You debate crawling back up his chest to plaster yourself against him, but decide to visit the bathroom while he’s collecting himself, a soft smile playing on your lips.

You’re brushing your teeth with his toothbrush when John sways into view in his boxers, wrapping himself around you from behind and watching you in the mirror silently as you finish up. Some of the apprehension that had lodged in your ribs when John initiated this change in your relationship eases. It’s not awkward, as had initially terrified you, instead the intimacy comes easily like sinking in to a well-loved recliner. John’s steady demeanour makes it easier, soothing your frayed edges where you want to fly apart, a talent he’s had as long as you’ve known him. He nudges you towards the shower, taking the toothbrush out of your hand.

“Have a shower before we get back to your flat, love, you’re going to want some of your own things here, I think.” He directs, and you flush at the implication but do as your told for once, the butterflies gone and replaced with excitement.

Next Chapter

#fanfic #john price x f!reader #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #john price cod #call of duty #this work has smut #fanfiction #friends to lovers #established relationship

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