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#his eyes are my favorite thing in the universe
winterrrnight · 2 days
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bsf!Rafe who for once gets jealous and annoyed, and it's reader's time to remind him he's still reader's favorite boy
I adore your mind anon 😭😭 jealousy is such a pretty color on rafe <3 this is fr my favourite pairing to write for at the moment so I’m literally always and forever willing to discuss thoughts on them!! <3
bsf!rafe who gets sad jealous when he sees some other guy flirt with you… <3 listen to babydoll by ari abdul, cause rafe calls reader babydoll hehe <3 cw: suggestive content (no actual smut): intimacy, tension and neck kissing, rafe gets jealous, minimal swearing, rafe calls reader babydoll once, reader is a no bullshit taking kind of person, alcohol consumption <3 for @chenslucy (I love love love you heaps anna 💚)
part of this little universe <3
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you didn’t even mean to, it just happened.
he cornered you at the bar when all you wanted was to get some beer for you and rafe, and said things like he’s been looking at you since you came inside the party mansion, and thought you’re the prettiest person he’s ever laid his eyes on. you knew it’s all the alcohol in his system talking; he wasn’t even all up in your face yet you could smell the alcohol on his breath.
it took you quite some time to tear away from the conversation; after a lot of convincing from your side that you were not into him, even when he kept on flattering you more and more. you finally escaped the conversation, letting out a deep sigh as you hold two cups of beer in your hand, the next task being to find rafe in the huge crowds.
little did you know, you were under the microscopic vision of rafe. he was in a corner of the party, watching you with his hawk like eyes as the guy talked with you. he couldn’t hear a thing, but from what he saw from the distance, you were being flirted with, and he wasn’t sure you were trying to avoid him or were enjoying it.
he contemplated coming over to break the conversation off, but decided against it. he didn’t know why, but he decided to just watch it all play out, and to see how you react. but what was not helping was his burning jealousy. how can some other man talk to you that way, and even think of making you his?
with a lot of struggle, you found your way through the crowds and finally spotted rafe. you could see he’s slumped in a corner, a scowl on his face. “here you go,” you said, holding out his cup as you took a sip from your own cup. rafe didn’t even look at you, just took the cup from your hand and gulped down most of the beer in one go.
“geez calm down,” you said, furrowing your brows a bit as you watched him down his drink too quick. he still didn’t look at you, and only finished off the drink in another sip. he tossed the empty plastic cup somewhere aside on the floor, and you watched it roll off and get crunched under someone’s foot.
you looked back up to see rafe’s jaw tightened, the scowl had not left him and his eyes were narrow. he was looking anywhere but at you.
“what’s up with you?” you asked, taking a sip from your drink and peering at him from over the rim of the cup.
“nothin’,” he mumbled incoherently under his breath, still not making any sort of eye contact with you. his eyes roamed around the party almost nervously, as if examining each detail and fixing it in his mind.
you rolled your eyes at his answer. “that’s not gonna cut it, come on, out with it. what’s up?”
he grumbled something incoherently again, but this time, you were not having it at all. the lack of eye contact, the bare minimum words; you had enough.
you took hold of his wrist and practically dragged him out of the party mansion, maneuvering through the sweaty crowd of young adults. rafe got caught off guard at first, but didn’t fight and he followed your lead. you led him outside where it was much more quiet, the music a blur and maybe a person or two hanging out, but it was more or less quite silent. you both were right besides the pool, and you sat down, pulling him with you too.
“what’s wrong? speak up, now, because I’m not having that mumbling nonsense you’ve been doing,” you said, your voice a bit cold as you took a sip of your drink.
you could see rafe looking at the water in the pool, the reflections of the calm water dancing across his handsome face.
“jus’ didn’t like you flirting with that dude, ’s all,” he muttered.
you furrowed your brows at him, almost confused as to what he was referring to but catching up quickly. “I wasn’t flirting with him, he was flirting with me. and being quite forward about it too,”
“yeah but you were smiling and laughing, don’t think I didn’t catch that,” he muttered again, his gaze not leaving the pool water.
“cause I was tryna let him down easy! I didn’t want to come off extremely rude,” you said.
rafe didn’t say anything or looked up from the water. you let out a sigh at the sight and kept your cup aside, scooting closer to him.
“look at me rafe,” you mumbled, your breath dancing across his ear. he slowly turned his head, his blue eyes meeting yours under the reflections of the water; the reflections a subtle green due to the dark green tiles at the bottom of the pool.
“I don’t care about that random dude, at all,” you murmured. “I never would, okay? fuck, I didn’t even catch his name, and frankly, I’m not interested in knowing his name,”
you could see his eyes softening. the moonlight along with the green water reflections lightened his eyes to an electric blue instead of the warm blue you usually saw him with.
“yeah?” he whispered, his brain suddenly registering how close you were to him.
“mhm,” you hum, your hand coming up to rest at the side of his neck as you gently rubbed the skin with your thumb.
you could see rafe’s eyes fluttering when he felt you starting to apply some pressure at the side of his neck, almost as if the sensation was sparking the feeling of pleasure in his veins.
“why would I do that when… I’ve got you?” you whispered, your hand coming off his neck for a moment but quickly replaced by your lips, a gentle kiss delivered under the whites of the moon and the greens of the pool.
rafe let out a soft sigh at the feeling, his head involuntarily tilting back as his hands slipped around your shoulders, holding onto you for stability when your kisses became more repetitive, yet were slow and lingered on his skin for a moment each time.
“you’re my favorite boy, always and forever, and don’t you ever forget that yeah?” you whispered, your lips parting from his neck for a second before attaching themselves back again, the same slow speed carried by you.
you could feel rafe’s nails dig into your shoulders through the fabric of your clothing, and that only prompted you to kiss him even more.
as your lips trailed up to his ear to gently press behind the delicate skin of his ear, rafe’s lips parted to let out the softest gasp, his body only craving that sensation on every inch of his skin.
“oh…” he gasped softly, tightening his hold on your shoulders.
“oh babydoll...”
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I think bsf!rafe’s nickname for reader would totally be babydoll, might include that more in the rest of the fics for them :p ANYWAYS I love them so so much and I would love to have any requests you may have for them ahhhh
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dreamandback · 14 hours
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LET'S LISTEN TO THE STARS (na jaemin)
THE UNIVERSE IS OURS, BUT YOU'RE MY FAVORITE PART
synopsis: jaemin was an adorable drunk, forgetting the faces of those around him as he talked fondly of them. even in his inebriated state, he found familiarity in you. maybe that's why he followed you to the roof.
genre: fluff, established relationship, non idol!au, college!au
warnings: jaemin x gn!reader, jaemin is drunk, star gazing, jaem talks fondly of reader to reader, house party at chenle's, mentions alcohol obvi, talks of marriage and proposal, maybe typos idk
word count: 884
author's note: this is purely self-indulgent. enjoy! comments and reblogs are heavily appreciated and encouraged!
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the party in chenle's house was reaching its peak as the bass of some random song thumped underneath the floor. jaemin was too far gone, barely recognizing the faces of his friends around him as he slammed back another shot. from the corner of his eye, jaemin saw you sneak upstairs. there was something alarmingly familiar about you, the pull of your eyes on the deepest parts of his mind. 
he wasn't entirely sure if you had met his eyes, he wasn't completely certain he had seen you motion for him to follow you. his head felt like it was swimming, the buzz of whatever alcohol he downed throughout the night filling his veins. stumbling to his feet, jaemin clumsily made his way after you. 
he caught the end of your shirt disappearing around a corner and found himself following you into the guest room. it was like second nature, following after you. it was like he never let you stray too far without him. he could see your beat-up sneakers through the open window as he approached it, the cool air nearly bringing him out of his drunken state. the sight of him poking his head out, hair as black as the night, was almost comedic. you watched him struggle to climb onto the roof with you, as he dazedly plopped beside you. 
he turned to you once he was settled, eyes dreamy and distant like you were a faraway memory. he smiled at you, one that was blurred around the edges as his gaze darted from the softness of your own to the gentleness of your smile. “you look like someone i know.” jaemin mumbled, closing his eyes serenely when the night breeze brushed against his heated skin. “maybe that’s why i followed you up here.” he hummed in a thoughtless murmur. you chuckled then, barely an amused breath out your nose. 
“and who do i remind you of?” you asked him, entertaining his musing. he opened his eyes to scan your face, taking in the depths of your eyes in the night, the way your smile seemed to bend the light around it, the way your hair fell in familiar curtains. “you look like the love of my life,” he spoke softly, the sincerity of his words felt like a punch to the chest. he said it so genuinely full of love, that it made your heart ache. steadying yourself with a breath, you asked, “the love of your life?” he nodded. 
“tell me about them.” you said. and he did.
he started with how your eyes shone in the morning, opening for the first time only to land on his. the way you’d laugh at his bedhead, only to make it worse. the way you’d push his face away when he tried to kiss you, claiming he had wicked morning breath. he spoke about how pretty you looked, wearing one of his shirts, buried in his blankets, smelling like home. he told you about how content he felt when you rambled on about your hobbies and interests, his mind set on spending the rest of his life with you. 
he told you about how cute you looked, dancing in the kitchen with him as he cooked late-night ramen for the both of you. he told you about how the dim lights above the stove somehow looked magical when you were there with him. he told you that he fell in love with you a little more every day. he told you how he couldn’t wait for the rest of forever, and that he was even planning on picking out a ring soon. 
he spoke about all the little things that made you, well, you, about all the things you didn’t think anyone would ever notice. he spoke about the things about you that you never thought anyone would ever care about. he compared your smile to that of shining diamonds, your eyes to the stars twinkling above him every night. how he couldn’t hear that one song or see that one shade without thinking about you. 
he told you how he couldn’t sleep at night anymore, not without the sound of your heartbeat and the rhythm of your breathing. he told you how every time you kissed him, he felt like he was breathed back to life. the whole time he talked, and it honestly felt like hours, you watched him. he looked like he was talking about the greatest thing in the world, and you were starting to believe that was what he thought of you. 
he sang your praises to the sky above and the stars dwelling within it, the party long forgotten, and the drunken haze lifting. at the end of the night, when you were helping him into your car, he pressed a cheeky kiss to your cheek. when you stared at him surprised, he let out a boisterous laugh. “i knew it was you, eventually.” he giggled, hand cupping your face. once you rounded the car and got into the driver’s seat, jaemin turned to you, an impish smile pulling at his lips. 
“what would you say if i proposed?” he questioned sweetly, cackling merrily when you punched his arm. that night, if you listened closely, you would’ve heard the stars laughing along with him.
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dreamandback 2024. do not rewrite, repost, modify, or translate.
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firenati0n · 2 days
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fic pride friday
yeah it's not friday idc idc thank you to @kiwiana-writes @anincompletelist @anchoredarchangel for the tags <3
Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.
i only have 7 fics so I'm using snips from all of them...maybe this will motivate me...hoping it helps :)
snips below the cut so it's not a pain on your dash lol. also they're in order of posting, so if you haven't read something just scroll on by lol:
from our world, mine and his alone (the midnight train to go) aka cracky brain worm fic:
In a poorly executed non sequitur, he settled to comment on the first thing he could think of. Fatal error.  Deep breath in. “By the way. Digging the cardigan, Henry. Very…” He rifled through his extensive vocab for literally any appropriate adjective. Refined? Boring. Professional? Practical, but also boring.   “Very…?” Henry raised an eyebrow, long fingers wrapped around a cup of tea. Earl Grey, Henry had said a while ago, but Alex couldn't be sure. He had been terribly distracted by said fingers, wondering where else those fingers could— What Alex’s distracted, useless worms in his left temporal lobe decided to supply him with as a response was: “Slutty-English-Literature-professor core.” Alex was going to jump off the train. He was going to change his name. He was going to get a lobotomy, as a treat. 
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from An Amateur's Guide to Piping That Cream and Beating That Meat aka thirst trap tiktok au:
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and my favorite part is the end when henry makes a bold ass move on alex through an old tiktok comment while he's sat across from him LMFAOOOO king shit:
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from each time we touch / i wanna take too much aka fingers in mouths dreamy fic:
Eyes still closed, Henry kisses Alex's thumb, a soft touch, and Alex sucks in a sharp breath. He presses his thumb inside for a second, resting it on Henry's tongue. Henry's eyes open, slow and steady, and he grasps Alex's hand gently, pulling his thumb out and wrapping his long pale fingers around Alex's index and middle finger instead; pulls them into his mouth, closing his lips around Alex's digits. Alex lets out a stuttered gasp as he leans into the touch, his fingers sliding in a little deeper. The sound of his shaky exhale sits for a second, heavy in the silence. The air around them crackles. There's a weight on Alex's chest, pressing and pressing and pressing, until he can barely get a breath in or out within the inches of shared space between him and Henry. Henry swirls his tongue around Alex's fingers, and his eyes are clear as ever as they bore into Alex, a challenge. And who is Alex to deny him anything?
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from keep me up all night / i wanna scratch your surface aka lovely prose all over fic:
Alex is determined to give him the world, even if it’s narrowed down to a strip of smooth skin just below Henry’s clavicle, a constellation of purple and red hues littered in places no one can see, in spots wandering eyes can’t reach. Alex’s heart pouring out of his mouth, sliding past his tongue and right onto Henry’s skin, the universe contained in Henry’s rib cage that protects the air they share in impassioned exhales and the heartbeat that intertwines with Alex’s when they’re like this; a sacred harmony of bodies and spaces. He’ll never tire of this.
and also this:
Alex does his worst, and then some; a reminder that they get to have this. It’s theirs, and it’s the universe in Henry’s ribcage, and it’s the moonlight reflected in Alex’s eyes, and it’s the world narrowed down to bruises on a pale canvas and bite marks on golden skin. Marks that they can run delicate fingertips over, press into with devotion; tucked away for safekeeping in the morning, their starkness harsh in the sunlight. There are no eyes worthy of Henry in the daytime.
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from cause you're classic, and i'm reckless aka ryan gosling / rachel mcadams inspired actor au:
When Alex was called up for his award, he felt himself go right back to where he was on day one of rehearsals—transparent, with his heart on his sleeve and voice a little wobbly. Being recognized for his accomplishments felt so novel, so intense, so foreign. After fighting tooth and nail to proudly sport his biracial and bisexual identity, he was thrilled to be accepted for who he was, and told he was good enough for the masses, his intersectionality a standout and not something to hide; good enough for Henry as a costar, holding his own opposite an industry darling. He couldn’t keep the tremor out of his voice as he accepted his trophy, thanking everyone for their hard work on this movie, the studio for backing a movie about unapologetic queer love, and Henry for being his faithful guide and cheerleader in a new landscape for Alex, giving him space to be his authentic self free of judgment and fear of failure. He’s so, so grateful for this. He will never stop being grateful; after pouring his heart and soul into this movie, he got so much back in return, and then some. He’s completely rearranged, made up of brand new parts next to his old, rusty ones; a patchwork heart beating erratically yet earnestly, hands that have traversed new spaces and swaths of skin, people pouring themselves back into him and sanding down the rough parts, caressing the scared ones. Alex feels not just reborn, but also like the person he always was deep down, just waiting to have a chance to emerge with all his heart to show for it.
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from who truly stuck the knife in first aka spy au aka sexually charged wrestling:
Alex averts his gaze, rolling onto his back to gaze at the cracks in the ceiling. The thing is. The thing is, Alex doesn’t know where the fuck to go from here. Between the barbs and the knives and the tension and the rolling around on the floor and the bed in a sexually frustrated heap, Alex didn’t take a second to consider he could have this, could have Henry in a way that mattered. Now that it's just within reach, he's scared it's going to slip away from his fingers and into the night if he holds on too tight, wants too much. He’s spared the need to respond by the sound of a crackle coming from Henry's laptop, then clothes rustling as someone groans. Manu’s bug is up and running, the man probably fielding a killer hangover and hazy memories of Alex and unbuttoned shirts and hands wrapped around throats. Alex clears his throat, scraping away any remnants of lingering affection. “Back to work, Foxy,” he says with a cheeky grin. Before he can help himself, though, he leans into Henry, planting a sweet kiss on his parted lips. Henry sighs into him, cupping his cheek with a tenderness Alex hasn't felt in a long while. He tastes like a future Alex dreams of having one day. For now, that's enough. It has to be.
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from and all i can taste is this moment, and all i can breathe is your life aka angel!henry fic aka city of angels au with a happy ending:
Henry forges on, the words pouring out of him, spilling all over the cliffside for Alex to see. “It is a sin worth committing, a fruit worth eating—at least I’ll get to taste you. You will never be a lapse in my judgment. You are my salvation, through you I get to reclaim myself. Isn’t that beautiful, isn’t that everything you’ve taught me about life and love and humanity?” Alex gazes at him, mouth slightly agape, taking in Henry’s impassioned words. Alex has spent his life fighting for others, extending himself beyond his limits. Now it’s Henry’s turn. “Darling, I’ve spent years, centuries even, pondering the question of what makes you human, what sits in your core. After all this time, the answer is unchanging—it’s love. Love, and care, and the unflinching determination of the human condition. With this, with you, I’ve experienced the absolutely soul-crushing realization that our hearts are built to endure when you have hope.” Henry’s voice wavers a bit, but he presses forward, determined to make the words land. “You are my hope, the hope I never thought I’d get to have, the hope I never thought I deserved to keep. With you, I want to endure.”
xoxo roop
open tag but also some no pressure tags : @wordsofhoneydew @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @whimsymanaged
@nontoxic-writes @alasse9 @ships-to-sail @leaves-of-laurelin @myheartalivewrites
@sherryvalli @ninzied @rmd-writes @suseagull04 @inexplicablymine
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femalevil · 2 years
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JOSEPH QUINN for Access (July, 2022)
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ndostairlyrium · 11 months
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👻 OC in a really bad disguise for Ankh
💀 OC in goth/emo/scene attire for Kerry
:]
Thank you for these prompts dear ;u; I must admit it took me a moment to plan these, hopefully the quality is good!
👻 OC in a really bad disguise
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Wanting to borrow boyfriend's favorite nuggetino from its pen to put a smile on his face after a bad day has its risks, but the girl is committed and would do anything for a piece of that flat ass! "Asking Leliana first? Of course I thought about that AND IT WAS BORING. Who do you think I am?"
💀 OC in goth/emo/scene attire
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Listen, I know younglings nowadays are used to the over polished emo ✨aesthetic✨ pics you see online but back when emo wasn't cool we only had one single pair of skinny jeans and whatever we could find at the local indian shop. Also Hot Topic is just an american thing << we couldn't find good pieces of apparel so our options were limited to creativity - pulling out uniposca markers and bycycle chains to make things look barely decent. Everything in that ensemble hurts horribly, I think the ones who were teenagers in the 00s know it :'D
The Ask Meme
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legionofpotatoes · 11 months
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Is Andromeda worth revisiting? I'm about to finish ME3 but didn't know if I should give it another go. Didn't care for it when it came out.
I mean if you didn't care for it then probably not? It didn't change much. A few bug fixes, couple performance patches, negligible character model and animation improvements but overall nothing major. It's still the same game.
I personally fell in love with it for some of the reasons that I love ME1, but I wouldn't expect anyone to like it now if they didn't before!
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kenananamin · 7 months
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Tie my tie, marry me
Summary: The moment Nanami knew he never wanted to tie his tie by himself ever again and wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. fluffy, nanami x fem!reader, nanami already loves everything you do but something about tying his tie was so intimate and special to him
It had been a year since Nanami officially asked you to be his girlfriend, but you had just started staying over during the weekdays. If either of you would stay at each other's houses, it would only be during the weekends when you both knew the next day could be dedicated to each other. Only recently had that unspoken rule changed.
You had both gone to the mall to shop for your new professional wardrobe and Nanami asked if he could buy a few extra things for you to keep at his house. You both knew what that implied and told him he could buy it, only if you could buy some stuff for him to keep at your house. You had both never been happier to spend more time and money at a crowded mall.
Nanami woke up a bit later for work than usual because of a power outage that turned off his alarm clock and did not charge his phone. You went into work after he did so you make his coffee and pack his lunch while he took a quick shower. You run into the bathroom to let him know he had less than 15 more minutes.
He steps out of the shower and grabs his razor to shave. You reach for the hairdryer he bought for you to keep at his house and start to dry his hair as he quickly shaves. You run out and start to rummage through his closet to set his clothes on the bed. Nanami finishes shaving and follows you out to get dressed.
"Shirt first, hurry," you take the shirt off the hanger and throw it to him.
Nanami begins to button the shirt when you get in front of him and start pulling his collar up and putting his tie around his neck. He looks at you with a questioning look and you quickly explain, "My dad taught me how to tie a tie. Never thought it'd come in handy since I never knew anyone who regularly wore a tie before you." You laugh at the memory but continue what you were doing to avoid making your boyfriend late.
Nanami however... his fingers stop buttoning his shirt. He looks at you, concentration and rush covering your features, but your fingers gently grazed his skin as you looped his tie. She's the first person to ever tie it for me, Nanami thinks. He had to learn how to do it from a video and was later corrected by some older male coworkers who showed him with their own ties.
The events of that morning finally dawn on him. You jumped out of bed right after you felt him jump out and started rushing around the apartment with him. He hadn't even mentioned that he was late, but you opened your eyes and knew what to do. He could smell the coffee from the room and heard the clanking of the leftover containers being opened and slid across counters from the shower. You dried his hair knowing that his route to work was not long enough to let it dry itself, and you took out exactly what he would have worn that day while he shaved. And now... there you stood before him, helping him tie his tie so his hands could do other things.
It seemed so... small. It was so small, so truly insignificant in the scale of life, something that could not hold weight in the world or change anything in the universe. But it changed his life, it was his favorite view in the world, and it would become his universe.
You look up at him and see him staring... and his hands not moving?! You move his hands away from the buttons and rush to finish buttoning it down. He takes your face in his hands and leans down to kiss you slowly. So very slow and soft. It stops you completely and you wrap your arms around his waist, relishing in the smell of his aftershave and body wash. Nanami deepens the kiss and moves an arm around your waist to pull you in closer. As much as you love when he pulls you in, the movement pulls you out of the kiss trance.
"Oh my god, Kento, hurry!! You're late, you're late!"
You step back and shove his pants into his arms. You tell him to hurry and that you'd grab his shoes to put by the door. You start yelling across the apartment that it would rain the entire afternoon and he needed to take the umbrella.
Nanami listens as you rustle through the closet looking for the umbrella and the light thud of what might have been his lunch bag and coffee thermal on the entryway table. He walks out the room putting on his suit jacket and sees you lightly jumping while telling him to hurry with his shoes.
Nanami leans down to tie his shoes but pauses after he's done. He goes to touch your bare leg since you hadn't even gotten dressed after waking up. You only wore his large shirt and underwear. He kneels and carefully lifts one leg to kiss your knee. He looks up from his kneeling position and says, "Thank you for helping. You really didn't have to."
His loving eyes close slightly while you lean down to give him one kiss as your response. "You're late," you whisper against his lips.
Nanami stands and takes his things while waving bye to you and your bed head. He heads out the door and begins a light jog to catch his regular train.
Yeap, she's the one, Nanami thinks.
Nanami spent his lunch break at the jewelry shop looking at rings that would look beautiful on your finger. There were so many engagement rings that would look gorgeous on you, but one caught his eye as he imagined that ring slightly moving on your finger as you tied his tie.
"I like that one. Do you have a size (your ring size) in stock?"
Nanami buys the ring at that moment and texts you to ask if he could come over to your house after work. He does not plan to propose on a regular Tuesday evening with no special plans, but he wants to hug you, smell your lovely perfume, take you some flowers, and give you a special thanks for helping him. And maybe, maaaayybe (most likely), stay over at your house to help him with his tie again the next morning.
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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“I ate paint once,” Danny nonchalantly threw out in the middle of game night.
The entire table stopped. Heads whipped towards Danny.
“Yeah, me too. Cardamom yellow was my favorite. Ugly as hell but the chemicals just tasted right.” Tim replied, using the distraction to nab some of Bruce’s money. Monopoly money, that is. Everyone’s heads snapped towards Tim, only Cass and Danny (who was part of the scheme) caught him cheating.
“Really? I think mine was those spray can blue cosmos paint. But that might have been more my thing for space than the actual taste.”
“WHY WERE YOU EATING PAINT?!” Dick asked, looking like he wanted to lunge over the table and shake Danny until he puked out paint. Bruce looked like he was about to have a heart attack.
“Yeah, what the fuck, Tim?” Jason snickered.
“In my defense,” Danny grinned. “I was left unsupervised. Also, Steph, you owe me $24 in rent.”
“Ugh! I’m almost out of money! Can’t you loan me some, Alfred?”
“I am sorry, Miss Stephanie, you are not qualified for another loan. In fact, one of your properties is about to be confiscated as per the collateral agreement.”
“Noooo!” Stephanie made dramatic dying noises.
“What was your excuse, Timothy?” Damian asked, eyes glued to the board and determined to win the game.
“Hey, I was probably less supervised than Danny was.”
“Yeah,” Danny perked up. “My parents brought us down to their lab all of the time. Taught us a lot of stuff.”
“Really? Like what?” Duke asked, casually slapping away Tim’s sneaky hands.
“Oh, like what a rocket launcher sounded like up close! And how to build a laser gun! Oh! And what human organs looked like when they’re fresh!” Danny chirped, collecting his money from a stunned Stephanie’s hands. He looked up.
“Oh, don’t worry! I at least learned what not to do when it comes to lab safety. And we wore hazmat suits to protect ourselves from the radiation.” Danny smiled in a ditzy fashion as the table fell silent in a horrified manner. Cass tapped his arm amusedly, but allowed his bullshit to stand. After all, it’s not like he lied.
“Radiation?” Duck’s voice raised a couple of octaves. Oh yeah, Danny’s going to laugh about that pitch for a long while.
“Organs?!” Jason’s hands closed around the plastic house he was holding rather forcefully.
“Do you even know what basic lab safety practices are, Danny?” Damian demanded, finally looking up with brows furrowed. He rolled the dice and grabbed a mystery card. He gets $100 from Alfred.
“How old were you??” Duke asked.
“Like… 8, when they first brought me in?”
“Eight.” Bruce rumbled, slipping into a more Batman like persona. When Danny sent him a confused look, Bruce straightened back into his Bruce persona. “Wow, they must have trusted you a lot!”
“Sure?”
“What were their names again?” Stephanie asked sweetly, Cass nodding at him.
“Jack and Maddie Fenton.” Not that they’ll find them here, considering his parents are dead and in another universe.
“Cool, cool, cool!” Stephanie blinked, beaming as her hands formed lethal fists underneath the table.
Danny blinked and tilted his head in an unassuming way, pretending like he had no idea what Stephanie was thinking of. He sneakily handed over $600 to Cass in order to complete his monopoly on his side of the board.
Danny stood up and spread his hands out, one hand clutching his new found victory.
"Well, lady and gents, you've all been floundering against the inevitable tide of capitalism. I am here, as a reminder that you can never win against the hopelessness that will be your financial ruin! I, Danny Fenton, have obtained a quarter of the board and therefore have won against even your best efforts!" He cackled, holding up his fan of properties triumphantly. He shot a mischievous grin at Cass, who held up a solemn thumbs up in support for his monetary takeover.
"... Danny, are you... planning on a career in villainy?" Bruce asked, after a brief and total wave of shocked silence. Damian looked like he was having a conniption at having been bested, unknowingly. Yeah, Danny was disarming like that.
"Yeah, that was concerning." Tim piped up, nabbing a ten from a shell-shocked Damian.
"Hey! The Riddler gives surprisingly good monologues! And he's really loud, so it's hard not to pick up on things. Duke, your turn." Danny sat back down, pouting. The villainy comment was a little too close to his fears.
"Damn it." Duke, who had rolled, landed smack middle of Danny's territory. He handed over a sheaf of bills to a grinning Danny.
"Wait a minute! You have cheated!" Damian bolted upwards from his seat, finally done running through the purchases he remembered Danny making. "You acquired that property not within the games' rules!"
"Okay, first of all, the rule book is a suggestion, like lab safety rules," Danny saw the others open their mouths to protest, but he quickly shut it down. "Second, there's totally no rules about selling and buying places from a private owner so suck on it. And thirdly? Cass sold it to me, so you all can take it up with her."
"Diabolical!" Damian muttered indignantly.
"... Dammit." Dick sighed, falling back into the chair and balancing on its two legs. He couldn't say anything, considering his current of bankruptcy.
"Danny. Danny, I'll buy a property from you." Jason said, eyeing one of Danny's other properties near his own cluster.
"What do you have that would interest me?" Danny asked, falling back into his Vlad-like imitation.
"Ew, don't do that," Steph reached over to jab him in the arm.
"Yeah, Jason, what do you have?" Duke said, the lovely subtle instigator that he is.
"Red Hood's signature."
The others blue-screen, gaping at the actual audacity Jason had to offer up something that would take him no effort. Danny, prepared with a poker face that came with lying straight to Jazz's ever perceptive eyes about whether he nabbed the last of her ice cream or not, was prepared.
"Red Hood? The condom guy working out of the... um. Upper East Side?" Danny asked, pretending to hesitate. He knows where Jason operated. That doesn't mean he couldn't simply pretend otherwise. For science, of course.
...
...
...
The table howled with laughter, Jason's indignant spluttering unable to say anything against Danny's wide eyed look of innocence. Cass leaned against the table, chuckles falling out of her mouth and eyes crinkled in mirth. Dick had fallen out of his chair, helplessly wheezing on the floor. Duke is hiding his face in his hands, mirroring Bruce's pose as they both shake from silent laughter. Damian is smirking, wicked and sharp as he smugly stared at Jason. Stephanie and Tim are leaning against each other, repeating "the CONDOM GUY" in alternating and increasingly louder voices. Alfred had a smile on his face and a tight grip on the bills in front of him that betrayed his amusement.
"He's a crime lord!" Jason exclaimed, indignant.
"Uh, okay. Well, I mean, why would I want a crime lord's signature? I don't want to be on his radar. Or echolocation or whatever. He's... a Bat, right? That's what you guys call that group, yeah?"
"How do you know the Rogues better than the vigilantes?!" Jason glared at his unhelpful family. Those assholes better prepare for a load of rubber bullets the next time they're on patrol near Crime Alley.
"Hey, it's not my fault the vigilantes here are unsociable. Maybe if they monologued more, I'd know who they are."
"Wouldn't- wouldn't that make them more villain like?" Tim asked, stuttering from his laughter.
"I dunno?" Danny replied, enjoying his the family's unabashed joy. "I mean, they're pretty legit and they help people already so I guess they don't need to be sociable... but still I swear I haven't heard anything about Batman other than that he grunts and is mean towards criminals."
Is mean towards criminals, Duke mouthed at a recovering Dick who was in the process of heaving himself back up. It sent him careening back down to the floor with restrained giggles. Cass tapped Danny, reminding him to eat some food.
"Tt. Of course not. They're efficient at their jobs and have no need to be seen as welcoming to criminals." Damian puffed up.
"Yeah, but they've gotta feel safe, right?" Danny shrugged as he plucked a cookie from the cookie platter. "The... one with the sword, what was it?"
"Robin." Damian supplied, eyes narrowed and trained on him.
"Yeah, the baby bird. The kids think his swords are cool so they trust him. But like, the others? The flippy blue one? Not so much."
"Wait," Dick said from the floor. "They don't trust Nightwing?"
"Nah, they trust him to protect them, but he has a history of bringing the kids to the police, you know?"
"What's wrong with that?"
Danny shrugged. "ACAB. But also because everybody knows that half the guys in the GCPD and CPS are child traffickers."
"Wait, what?" Jason and Tim straightened.
Bruce piped in, the emotional whiplash of amusement to concern to amusement to concern visibly making itself known on the man's baffled face. "I thought Batman and Commissioner Gordon took care of that?"
"Sure, the obvious ones." Danny hesitated. Well, he's pretty sure they think he's a meta so... "There's... a meta trafficking ring that they're a part of. That's. That's kind of what I was running from."
Danny looked up pleadingly. Cass placed a hand on his arm in comfort, not knowing that he was fibbing about running from them.
Danny was on the streets helping his own Alley metas to run from them.
Danny is as feral as she was, and that meant he could hide just as much as she could read off of him. Cass was the best and he felt kind of bad about lying to her, successfully or not.
"Uh. Some people said you know Batman, Bruce. I know- uh, that might not be the case but if you do, could you ask him to look into it?" Danny made his eyes tear up. "And maybe he wouldn't care about me much, I mean, I know he doesn't really like metas but if he helps out, I could totally like, leave the city once the kids are safe, promise."
Ooh, Danny put a little too much sincerity into that. He could practically hear the hearts breaking in the game room as everyone glared at Bruce.
"You won't have to leave."
"... Promise?" And Danny's voice was a little too desperate, too hopeful, because Bruce's eyes tugged down in sadness.
"Promise." He rumbled, all Bruce Wayne and all Batman. Danny's core warmed. Danny also saw the rest of the family's faces darken in pure agreement. And partial wrath.
"Yeah! We'll kick Batman's ass if he even thought about kicking you out!" Stephanie proclaimed.
"He's far more proficient in combat than you are, Brown." Damian immediately leapt to Batman's defense and that was that.
Well, later, as Danny was "sleeping" and Phantom was hovering in the cave, invisible and intangible, he got confirmation that his Alley meta kids were going to be safe, soon.
After all, the entire Batclan was suiting up and baying for blood, with Oracle's all encompassing presence behind them, fingers reaching for their enemies' weak points.
6K notes · View notes
zg0nuwa · 11 months
Text
𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 ; “𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬”
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had this silly little thought where you ask miguel a bunch of questions about the multiverse
miguel o’hara x gn!reader
warnings ; this is stupid, miguel is confused, mentions of pregnancy/having a kid, my spanish knowledge is below zero so i used google (feel free to correct me)
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“ what did you just ask me? ”
“ i asked what would happen if two people - ” you were pestering miguel with questions about the multiverse for the past hour or so. at first it was a basic conversation regarding what were canon events and how are they established, how the portals work and all the other boring stuff.
“ i heard you the first time. just- where did you get that question from? ”
“ don’t tell me you’ve never wondered how it would work if for example we were to have a kid. like, we’re from different universes. i’m just curious what would happen to the kid in this predicament. ” if you were anybody else he would probably just glare at you and go on with his work but due to your position in his heart he just stood there, absolutely mortified at the example you just provided.
in all honesty you weren’t even that much into the topic but being able to bother miguel just a little and watch him scrunch up his nose whenever you mentioned something that would probably classify you as mentally deranged was your favorite hobby.
“ dios por favor dame fuerza*. no, actually i’ve never thought about that. also that example was really uncalled for. ” he thanked his past self for making the office so dimly lit. if it was any brighter in here he’s 97% sure you would be able to see how his neck and ears go all red.
“ so you admit you don’t know what would happen? ”
“ sí, ahora ¿podemos cambiar el tema?* ”
“ okay, okay… there’s actually one more thing i was curious about. ” miguel only sighed and looked at you with an unimpressed expression.
“ should i be scared? ” at this point he had no idea what to expect, in fact he kinda expected anything. and his imagination was not helping him. you looked up at him with those big pleading eyes that at the same time were full of mischief.
“ if, for example, we were to start dating, would that make me you know… kind of a pedophile..? ” there was an awkward silence and the look he had was to be described only with the sentence “what the fuck”
“ what on god’s green earth are you talking about? ”
“ i mean, you’re from year 2099 right? and im from 2023 in my universe. so that would kind of suggest that technically i would be in my 40s or 50s when you were born right? that just… kind of weird to think about i guess? ”
that, he did not expect in any of his wildest scenarios.
“ i’m going to lose my fucking mind. ” he slumped forward hiding his face in his hands.
“ aw come on miguel! it’s a genuine problem i’m thinking about here! ”
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* god please give me strength
* yes, now can we change the subject?
10K notes · View notes
soaps-mohawk · 18 days
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 16: Big Brown Eyes
Summary: Things have returned to normal, or at least they seem to have. Nothing can ever go your way, though, can it?
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 7925 words
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, oral sex, face sitting, grinding, spanking (it's like once and not even on the ass), Kyle is definitely a munch, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, reader is a little shit, angst, PTSD, nightmares, trauma, mommy issues, family issues, language, the author's bias showing just a tad.
A/N: Have you ever cried while writing smut? I have. Had two mental breakdowns during the course of this chapter, the worst of the two during the smut scene. Sobbing while writing the reader getting her back blown out? That's a new one for me. But, I did it. I finished Chapter 16 this week. I'm feeling significantly better than I was, at least physically. Giving it to you a day early because I feel bad about not posting last week. The events of this chapter pick up pretty much where the previous one left off. Timeline wise, this chapter is spread over roughly a week-ish. And special thanks to the battle rattle anon for inspiring part of this chapter 🫶
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
(This is my all time favorite gif of him I swear I stare at it way too much)
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You’re clawing at the door frame, desperately clinging to the last thing you can hold on to, the last shred of your life as you know it. You fight the hands pulling at your arms, threatening to pull you away from the comfort, the warmth, the safety of your home, of your pack. 
Your mothers grief-stricken sobs reach your ears, her cries of desperation as they rip you from her, your father’s hate filled gaze directed at you over her shoulder as he holds her back. She loves all her children, but you were always her favorite. The bond between you two was always the strongest. 
Now you know why. 
The arms rip you from the doorframe seconds before the door slams closed. It’s like a gavel strike declaring your fate, cutting you off from everything you knew. You’re pulled back from the door, from the house that had become your safe space, from the pack inside. 
They’re not your pack anymore. The thought is like a sharp knife, severing the lifelong bond in your mind. You’re not a part of them anymore. You’re alone in this world, cut off from what you knew, and it’s all your fault. 
If only you could have presented as an alpha, like you were supposed to. 
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You’re sobbing, breaths coming in choking gasps. Your chest feels tight, your body tense and aching as you fight against the constricting hold around you. 
“Easy, easy.” A deep voice murmurs in your ear, your senses beginning to return. “Yer alright, kitten.” 
Your breaths continue to come in shaky gasps as you start to recognize your surroundings. You’re in Johnny’s room still. His arms are wrapped tight around you, your own pinned against your chest. You had fallen asleep before you even realized it, exhausted after your night with Johnny. 
“Ye were havin’ a nightmare.” He says, projecting his natural beta scent in an attempt to get you to relax. 
You squeeze your eyes shut, letting the scent start to numb your brain. The tears continue to slide down your cheeks, but slowly your breathing begins to normalize. Johnny begins to loosen his hold around you, not letting you go, but enough that you don’t feel like you’re being constricted anymore. 
“Si gets them too.” Johnny continues, speaking quietly. His breath is warm as it fans your ear, reminding you that you’re awake now, and your nightmare is behind you. “Woken up tae elbows and fists in my face many times.” 
You keep your eyes closed, taking in deep breaths as Johnny lays with you in silence, his fingers gently stroking your arms. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. You hadn’t meant to have a nightmare. Not in front of them. You knew it would happen eventually, but you had hoped you could avoid it as long as possible. 
You don’t want to reveal your weakness, your pain, your inner struggle to them. They have enough of their own, they don’t need to know how broken you are too. 
You lay there, slowly calming your breaths and the slight tremble in your limbs as you wait for Johnny to begin questioning you. He’ll want to know, he’ll want to hear what it is that’s plaguing your mind. You’ll have to tell him, you’ll have to explain everything and then he’ll want to know more. He’ll want to unearth the brokenness and the pain that you’ve buried so deeply like an archaeologist looking for the secrets of an ancient civilization. 
You don’t want to reveal it, you want to bury it again, lock it back in the recesses of your mind where it can’t hurt you. You want to compress it back down until you feel safe again without the threat of the past hanging over your head. 
Johnny continues to relax his hold around you as you begin to calm down again, the tears finally slowing to a stop. You take deep breaths, trying to match Johnny’s even breathing behind you. You wait for it, the inevitable question, the prodding, the digging. He’ll want answers, he’ll want to know what plagues your mind, how much it’s been happening, why you haven’t said anything. 
You’re not sure how much time passes as you lay there, counting breaths. It’s silent in the room, in the barracks. Even outside it’s quiet, as if the world is holding its breath, waiting patiently for the shoe to drop, for the truth to get revealed. 
You can't wait any longer. The tension is too thick, the thought of waiting for the question to break the silence is too much. You'll rip the bandaid before he can try and force it from you. “I don't-”
“Ye don't have tae tell me.” He cuts you off before you can even start, the words slicing through yours, stopping you from spilling your darkest, innermost thoughts. “We all have them sometimes. No shame in that.” He tightens his grip on you for a moment, pulling you closer against his chest. “Simon doesn't even tell me all of his. Thinks he might scare me off, or somethin'. I'm no’ gonnae force ye to tell me anythin’ if ye don’ want to.” 
You're taken aback by his words. You suppose they all have to be plagued by nightmares of their own, with the kinds of things they have to see when they're in the field. Ghost had told you a bit about the nightmares that haunt him, and that had only been one tragedy, one mission. You suddenly feel silly. The kinds of things you’re afraid of, the nightmares that terrify your mind suddenly seem inconsequential to the things they must dream about at night. 
You wiggle in Johnny’s arms until you’re facing him, his eyes half closed as he stares down at you. You shift forward, pressing your face against his bare chest. His head tucks so his chin rests against the top of your head as he holds you, his breathing slowing just slightly as he drifts back to sleep. You don’t sleep, laying there awake as you listen to the slow, rhythmic beating of Johnny’s heart. 
He’s snoring quietly, breath fanning across your hair as he sleeps peacefully. You let your fingers trail over his skin as you wait for his early alarm that will signal the end of your quiet moments of bliss, snapping you both back into your realities. You trace the scars lining his skin, all of them with their own stories, just like John’s. 
He makes a garbled, snorting noise as your fingers brush over his ribs, his entire body twitching. His hand moves, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. “Tickles.” He murmurs, lifting your arm so it’s draped around his neck. He's asleep almost immediately, as if he hadn't woken at all from your tickling. 
You continue to lay there as he sleeps, your mind drifting between sleep and your racing thoughts until Johnny’s alarm goes off. He groans, reaching across you to turn it off. He lays still, breath still fanning over the top of your head. For a moment you’re worried he’s fallen asleep again, but eventually he moves, rolling on top of you. 
He presses his face against your neck, letting out a quiet groan. He’s heavy, but a solid weight above you. It’s comforting, the weight of him like a blanket keeping you safe. He presses gentle kisses against your neck, his fingers trailing across your shoulder before brushing over your mark. You let out a whine, arching against him. 
“Screamin’ Jesus.” He curses, getting hard against your thigh. 
“Don’t you have to go work out?” You ask as he begins to grind against you. 
“Would rather stay here with you.” He growls against your throat. 
“Won’t you get in trouble?” You gasp, bucking up against him. 
“Worth it.” He grunts, kicking the sheets off the end of the bed. 
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“Someone missed the morning workout.” Kyle says as you and Johnny sit down at the table for breakfast. You’re the last ones there, despite Johnny skipping his early morning workout. 
You take your normal spot between Kyle and John, sitting gingerly on the hard bench. There’s still a distinct ache between your thighs from Johnny’s enthusiasm and intense stamina last night and this morning.  
“Aye, don’t worry. I still got a good workout in.” Johnny says cheekily, winking across the table at you. 
You’re afraid you may combust as the other three pairs of eyes at the table look at you. It’s no secret what you were doing last night, or this morning. Johnny, as in most aspects of his life, is loud in bed. Kyle had known you were going to, and so had Simon, but you find your gaze turning to John as your face warms. 
You’re not quite sure what you’re expecting as you look at him. It’s not like he had forbidden you from pursuing relationships with the others, or even shown any distaste at the idea. You were open to love the other members of the pack, just as they did one another, just as he did. 
His face is stoic as he stares at you, before it begins to lighten, a gleam shining in his eyes. “Did he take good care of you?” He asks, the corner of his lips twitching. 
You swallow thickly, your face getting warmer as you nod. “Yeah.” 
“Good.” John grins. “ Then I suppose I can forgive him for sleeping in this morning, so long as it doesn’t become a habit.” He casts his glance across the table. 
“I’m a bad influence.” You say, spooning porridge into your mouth. 
“Certainly worth the trouble, though.” Johnny says, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Especially when you do that thing with your tongue-”
Johnny’s words are cut off with a pained yelp as Ghost kicks him under the table. “Don’t go spilling all her tricks.” He grumbles, eyeing the tables around you. 
You think your face might be permanently warm at the thought of anyone nearby hearing the topic of your conversation. Of course they know, but hearing about it was something entirely different. 
Kyle walks you back to the barracks after breakfast, your hand in his, fingers laced together. His thumb rubs the back of your hand absentmindedly, shoulders brushing as you walk. Neither of you say anything, but you don’t have to. Unlike Johnny, Kyle is happy to exist in silence. They’re so very different, despite both being betas. 
Your brothers had often joked about betas being boring, and how glad they were that neither of your parents were betas. You’d disagree now, after spending some time around betas. They’re just as complex as alphas and omegas, in their own ways. 
Boring was the last thing you’d describe Johnny as last night. 
Kyle holds the door for you as you enter the barracks, following you down the hall. You stop in front of your door, your hand pausing on the knob as Kyle leans in close to you. 
His chest presses against your back, breath fanning your ear as he speaks. “Can’t wait to find out about this trick you do with your tongue.” 
Your face warms again, your heart thudding in your chest as you turn to look up at him, tongue darting out to wet your lips. “You could find out right now.” 
Kyle’s lips lift in a smirk as he leans in closer, trapping you against the door. “I’d love to, but I don’t think the Captain would be quite so forgiving if I skipped out on this training.” 
You stare up at him, lost in his big brown eyes. “Soon?” 
He smirks, leaning down to kiss you. “Of course. Just say the word.” 
He leaves you there with your heart thudding in your chest, your stomach churning in excitement. You’d be more than willing to go that extra step with Kyle right at this very moment, but the subtle ache between your thighs thanks to Johnny is a good reminder why you should wait. You want to enjoy your time with Kyle.
You know it will be worth the wait. 
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“How have you been?” 
You shrug, sinking back into the plush chair. It’s warm in the office, a stark contrast to the cold downpour outside. “Fine.” You answer, running your hands over your jeans. “Tired.” 
“Oh?” Dr. Keller raises an eyebrow at you. “Have you not been sleeping well?” 
“I’m...having a hard time falling asleep.” You say. It’s not entirely a lie, but it’s not the whole truth. 
“Why do you think that is?” She asks, writing something down. 
Your palms begin to sweat. You hadn’t planned on going into too much detail about this with her, but you knew she’d likely notice and remark on your tired appearance. “Been thinking too much.” 
“About what?” She probes, staring at you. 
You know you don’t have to tell her anything. What you share is up to you. Yet, you can feel the words bubbling up, threatening to spill over before you can stop them. “My family.” You say, releasing some steam from the boiling pot inside you. Tears burn your eyes, threatening to fall as you continue. “Especially my mom. I miss her a lot sometimes.” 
“You had a close bond with her.” Dr. Keller says. It’s not a question. 
You nod. “The closest out of all of my siblings.” You snuffle, wiping the tear trailing down your cheek. “Makes sense why.” 
“Sometimes we have traits or behaviors that show before we present that hint at our possible status. Having a stronger bond with one parent over another, especially in mixed status packs, can signal what one might present as.” Dr. Keller says. “Were you the first omega to present in your pack?” 
You nod. “Yeah. My older brothers were alphas, and I don’t know about my younger siblings.” 
“That could all contribute to a strong bond with your mother.” Dr. Keller leans back in her seat. “I’m assuming you haven’t had any contact with them since the institute.” 
“Not since I was taken from home. The institute didn’t support keeping those connections with previous packs and...I don’t think they would have reached out anyway.” You say, picking at the fabric of your pants. 
“What makes you say that?” Dr. Keller asks. 
You pause, not sure you want to open that bag of worms. If anyone is safe enough to do it with, you know it’s going to be Dr. Keller. She won’t judge you, she won’t think you weak or silly for having such thoughts, such fears. She doesn’t care how broken you are. You’re not part of her pack. She’s an outsider, a doctor above all. 
“Well, they did send me to the institute, didn’t they?” You finally say. 
Dr. Keller hums, staring at you for a moment before she drops her gaze to her notebook, writing something down. “I suppose you have a point there. Hypothetically, if you were given the chance to, would you want to talk to them again? It’s not uncommon for omegas to seek out their previous packs and families after they leave the institute.” 
Your stomach twists at her question. Even if it is only hypothetical, you had existed for years in the institute thinking you’d never get to see or hear from your family again. They were behind you, lost to you. They wouldn’t accept your attempts to reach out to them, even if you knew where they were. Even after leaving the institute, you knew the chances of seeing them again or even just hearing from them was almost none. You have a new pack now, your old one doesn’t matter. 
That’s just the life of an omega. 
Would you want to? In this hypothetical world where this question exists as a potential option, would they even answer if you called? Would they accept an invitation to see you again, if they were given the chance? Could your father feel regret after all of these years for what he did to you? 
“I...” You frown, tears pricking your eyes again. “I don’t know.” 
“That’s okay.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s a complex situation. If you ever wanted to, though, I’m sure they could make it happen.” 
Your gaze snaps to hers, the shock at her words clearly written on your face. Of course they probably could. It was their job to hunt down hard to find people, and with the CIA at their backs, you’re certain they could track down your family easily. Would they do it for you, if you asked? Would they allow you to have that connection with your old pack while still being part of theirs? 
“Most people keep some form of contact with their family, even after they move on to their own pack.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s not unusual, even among omegas. Just something to think about.” 
“Do you still talk to your family?” You ask her, partly out of curiosity. 
“I do.” She smiles. “I talk to my parents pretty regularly, and my older brother occasionally. He’s involved in this world too. He was in the Army originally, but now he does whatever it is he does.” 
You’re surprised by her answer. Not so much that she still talks to her family, but that she’s familiar with this world. It makes sense, how easily she existed in it, beyond just being a professional. “Do you think it had something to do with you being chosen for this position?” You ask. 
“Most likely.” She grins. “Laswell probably wanted someone who is at least a little familiar with this world, but also someone she knew would work well with you.” 
“I think she made the right choice.” You say. It’s the truth. You like Dr. Keller. You trust her. You’ve grown comfortable in her presence and you look forward to your appointments with her. It almost makes you feel bad for withholding the truth from her. 
“Good. I think so too.” She says. “So, did anything exciting happen this week?” 
You chew on your lip nervously, your hands disappearing into your sleeves as your face warms a bit. “Johnny and I...had our first time together.” 
“Oh?” Her eyebrows raise. “And that’s something you wanted?” 
You nod. “Yeah. I’d like to get close to all of them, well, as close as Ghost will let me get.” You bite your lip again. “Ghost...gave me some pointers on how to handle Johnny. It worked. He...let me take control. I liked it.” 
“Nothing wrong with that.” Dr. Keller says. “I think it’s great that you’ve discovered this about yourself. I know omegas are so used to being controlled in society. I think it’s great that you’ve found a place where perhaps you can take a little control back.” 
She’s not wrong. Your entire life has been dictated for you, controlled by someone else. The baton of control was just continually passed from your father, to the institute, to the CIA, and now to John. Though John has granted you the most freedom of everyone that’s held control over you, there’s still requirements for obedience and submission to him. You’ll never be your own person. That’s just the way society works, and you’ve come to accept that. 
Yet, you’ve never felt quite so powerful as you did in bed with Johnny, when you’d gripped him by the mohawk like Ghost had instructed you to. When you saw the change in his eyes as you took over, controlling him, telling him what to do. You liked it, exerting control over someone else for a change. He just let you do it. It still sends a thrill down your spine at the thought of the possibilities, the things you can do now that you’ve discovered this part of yourself. You’d never show it in public, but behind closed doors...
The book was right. Perhaps omegas can be powerful. 
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“What are we doing?” You ask, staring up at John as he straps a tactical vest onto your body. 
“We’re doing an exercise, and you’re going to help us.” He answers, double checking the vest before putting a helmet on your head. “Think of it as hide and seek mixed with tag.” He finishes strapping the helmet to your head, taking a step back. “How does it feel?” 
“Heavy.” You feel weighed down with the vest and the helmet.
“You’ll get used to it.” He says with a smile, guiding you towards the door of the warehouse. 
It’s dark inside, nearly pitch black except for the light coming in from the open door. There’s fake walls set up in front of you, with space just in the middle like a sort of hallway that disappears into the darkness. 
“Your job is to get from this side of the warehouse, to the other without getting caught.” John says. “No weapons, just you trying to evade us and get to the other side while we try and catch you,” John lowers the goggles on the top of the helmet, the world coming alive in shades of green around you. “And night vision goggles. Be smart about it. Understood?” 
You nod, looking around with the goggles, trying to adapt to using them. “Yes, sir.” 
“Good. You have a thirty second head start. Use it wisely.” 
He leaves the warehouse, closing the door behind him. You’re left in complete darkness, with no sound but a fan running somewhere, probably to dampen any sounds that might echo. You stand there for a moment, trying not to breathe too heavily, as it might echo in the warehouse. You stare at the door behind you for a second before you begin to move forward, the adrenaline starting to pump. You have to get to the other side of the warehouse before they catch you. Are they working together or individually? What kind of strategy will they use? What strategy will you use? 
You begin to pick up speed, running until you reach the end of the first hallway. It splits off in both directions, and you hesitate for a moment. Be smart about it. You don’t have many advantages in this situation. They’ve done this before, both in training and probably in the field as well. They’re highly skilled soldiers, trained to hunt down people in all sorts of environments, sometimes with nothing more than their scent. 
Scent. 
Of course. 
You take off down the right hallway, following it as it twists and turns like a maze. A giant maze. There’s so many hallways, so many places to run, but not many to hide. That’s not the point, though. You have to get to the other side of the warehouse before they do. You have to track your way through this maze without getting caught by four special operations soldiers. 
Simple enough. 
You pause at a corner, undoing your vest so you can slip your sweatshirt off. You’re just putting your vest back on when the door opens, bathing the ceiling with light for a moment. It’s started. They’re inside. You can’t hear anything over the hum of the fan, and that’s almost more terrifying to you than if you had been able to hear them. The adrenaline is pumping now as you toss your sweatshirt in the corner before quickly backtracking and heading a different direction.
You try to keep your breathing quiet as you weave through the maze, doubling back and touching the walls every so often to try and leave your scent behind and confuse them. You take deep breaths through your nose as you go, trying to catch any whiff of them, any sign that you might have crossed their path or be getting close to them. They’ll reach the same area of the maze as you’re in eventually, sooner rather than later. You need to start pressing forward. You’re not just evading them, you have to reach the other side before they catch you. 
You slip around a corner, pressing up against the wall as something moves behind you. You hold your breath, quiet footsteps passing by your position. Your hands are shaking from the adrenaline, the instinctual fear of being hunted rising in you. You take a couple of quiet deep breaths, slipping your shoes off to grab your socks before slipping them back on. You peek around the corner, finding nothing. 
You toss one of your socks in the corner before doubling back, pausing as you cross one of their scents. Johnny. You recognize the citrusy tang in the air. Christ, you’ve never heard him be that quiet before. You continue on, your heart racing in your chest as you carefully weave around corners, slipping through hallways. They’re close to you now. They could be around any corner. 
You pause as you cross the scent of leather and musk, something prickling in the back of your mind. It’s a fresh scent. You pause for a moment, looking in the direction he went before slipping around the corner. You still have your other sock clutched in your hand, knuckles white as you grip it tightly. 
You should be nearing the end. The warehouse isn’t that big, even with all the doubling back and dodging you’ve been doing. You toss your other sock in a corner haphazardly as you decide to stop doubling back and go for the exit. You have to try and get ahead of them, as well as find your way through the maze to the exit door. 
Simple enough. 
Except, you have no idea which direction the exit is, or which direction you’re heading. You could be going backwards for all you know. You weave through the halls, around the corners, focusing on finding the end of the maze. 
In your concentration you fail to notice the scent, weaving through the halls mindlessly as you attempt to reach the end of the maze. You pay for it as the sound of boots on the concrete floor rushes up behind you. You let out a startled shriek of surprise as your feet leave the floor, your body ragdolling over someone’s shoulder. 
“Got her!” He yells out, weaving around a couple corners before light floods the warehouse, making you wince. 
Your squint as your feet hit the ground again, the night vision goggles lifted from your face. Your nose crinkles as you stare up at Kyle’s smug face, his lips pulled up in a smirk. 
“No fair.” You pout. “I was so close!” 
“You were, but you got sloppy at the end there.” He says, undoing the strap of your helmet to help you take it off. You’re sweaty underneath it, hair sticking to your forehead. You’re glad you ditched your sweatshirt now. 
“Not bad.” John says, exiting the warehouse, Ghost and Johnny following. “Nice strategy.” He says, tossing your sweatshirt to you. 
You shrug, hugging it to your chest. “Had to think fast with what I had on hand.” 
“Running around with no socks on too.” Ghost says, holding up your socks. 
“Left you a little present. You can keep them if you want.” You smirk. 
“Don’t want your nasty socks.” He grumbles, tossing them to you. 
“That was fun.” You say, grinning up at them. “Like being hunted.” You don’t miss the quiet rumble in John’s chest at your words, his eyes darkening just a bit. “Can someone help me out of this now though,” You say, reaching for the velcro straps on the vest. “It’s squishing my boobs.” 
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The TV is playing some show, but you're not really paying attention. You haven't been, not for a while now. Your adrenaline had still been pumping a bit after your participation in the exercise earlier, putting you on edge the rest of the day. It had been a bit thrilling, the idea of being hunted like that. You can understand now how omegas enjoy being hunted, beyond just the inevitable end. 
The thought of that being how the exercise ended, all four of them at once, out where anyone could see you...your skin begins to prickle as heat blossoms in your veins. Kyle would get to take you first because he won, he caught you so easily. Would John go second, or would he allow the other members of his pack to go first? Ghost would be rough, taking you from behind, hands bruising on your hips. Your teeth sink into your lip as you imagine him over you, a position you often found yourself in during your training with him. He's just so big, so strong. They all are. 
You won't be able to control yourself during training if you keep going down that thought path. 
John would be gentle, piecing you back together after the others have had their way with you. He'd take care of you, like a good alpha, dragging one more orgasm out of you after you think you can't anymore. 
You let out a shaky breath, trying to calm your scent. You're stinking up the rec room with your fantasies. You turn your head to look at the TV, trying to focus on what's happening on the screen in an effort to distract yourself. 
It doesn't work, the subtle dampness between your thighs ever present on your mind. You have half a mind to get up and seek out Kyle, but like a miracle he appears in the doorway of the rec room. You see his nostrils flare, the lift of his shoulders as he inhales. He can smell your arousal, the spike in the sweetness of your scent. You have no doubt about that. He doesn't say anything, though, instead he approaches the couch silently, kneeling at the end. 
He settles himself on top of you, resting his head on your chest. He lets out a breath as he settles, keeping some of his weight off of you, but he's still pressed against you like a weighted blanket. You fight the urge to shift beneath him, to press your hips up against him, to seek any ounce of relief for the warmth between your thighs. 
You're not sure he's watching the TV either as he lays there, relaxed over you. Your fingers trail patterns across his back, gliding over his soft shirt. He's in blue today, one of your favorite colors on him. He looks good in anything, the perks of being pretty, but blue is one of your favorite colors on him. 
It's silent between you for a while, Kyle relaxed above you while you fight to relax beneath him. If he’s affected at all by your scent, he hides it well. You have half a mind to ask him to take pity on you, to slip his hand beneath your sweatpants and ease the ache between your thighs. He had said whenever you wanted it. All you have to do is ask. 
You shift slightly beneath him, lifting your hand to his head. “Kyle?” You ask, gently trailing your fingers over his scalp. He'd gotten his hair buzzed recently, the curly strands shorter than normal. 
He hums in response, the sound rumbling through your body from where his head rests on your chest. When you don't reply right away he lifts his head, blinking up at you with those big brown eyes. 
“Kiss me?” You ask. 
Your heart starts to race as he pulls himself closer to you, his body dragging against yours. His eyes dart to your lips before they look back into yours for a moment. He leans down, slipping his arms underneath your back as he closes the gap between you. His lips are soft against yours, his kisses gentle and controlled as he holds you like you might break in his grasp. 
“Kyle?” You murmur against his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck. 
He hums again in response, pulling away just slightly to stare down at you. 
“‘M not gonna break.” You say, dragging your nails over his scalp again. “Kiss me like you mean it.” 
His lips twitch in a smirk before he leans down, pressing his lips hard against yours. It’s a searing kiss that nearly steals your breath away. His tongue prods at your lips, and you part them to allow him in. He tastes like the tea he had been drinking after dinner, rich and earthy with a hint of sweetness from the sugar he added. You moan softly into his mouth as his tongue flicks against your own, your thighs squeezing around his waist at the thought of that tongue between your legs. 
He smirks against your lips as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking, his body shifting over yours so he can press one of his thighs between your legs. You move instinctively, your hips grinding against his thigh. Finally you're getting some friction, some relief from the ache. 
“Fuck.” He breathes, pulling you tighter against his chest. “That’s it.” He groans, pressing his thigh harder against your grinding hips. “Gonna cum on my thigh, just like that?” He nips at your jaw, trailing kisses down the line towards your neck. “Haven’t even touched you yet.” 
You try to muffle your moans as you continue to grind against his thigh, the friction on your clit pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “Kyle?” You gasp out, gripping the back of his shirt. “Gonna fuck me on the rec room couch?” 
He lifts his head from your neck, staring down at you for a moment. “Fuck, you’re right. Your room or mine?” 
“Yours.” You say, hanging on for dear life as he scoops you up off the couch, wrapping your legs around his waist. 
He walks you to his room, carrying you the entire way. He kicks the door shut, beelining for his bed. He drops you down on the mattress, your body bouncing as he hastily peels his shirt off, revealing an expanse of smooth skin marked here and there by scars. You immediately reach out, trailing your fingers over his skin. It’s just as soft as it looks, your fingers trailing the lines of his muscles. 
His hand flattens over yours as it reaches his chest, pressing it into his warm skin as he leans down, kissing you again. His hands slip under your thighs, lifting you and switching your positions so he’s seated on the bed, and you’re in his lap. 
“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He says, looking up at you. 
“I think it’s been mentioned before.” You say with a shrug, smiling down at him. 
“It’s the truth.” He says, slipping his hands under your shirt. “Deserve to hear it all the time.” 
“Bunch of handsome men complimenting me constantly?” You say, lifting your arms over your head so he can remove your shirt. “Can’t complain about that.” 
“Luckiest men in the world.” He says, smoothing his hands across your back as he presses his face into your throat. “Pretty little omega.” 
You shiver as his teeth nip at your skin, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. You arch against his chest, pressing yourself closer. There’s a bulge in his pants, a shiver of pride running through you at the thought that you did that to him. You elicited such a reaction from him. 
“I never properly thanked you.” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“For what?” He asks, staring up at you curiously. 
“For taking such good care of me during my heat. Couldn’t have been easy, seeing me like that, knowing you couldn’t even touch me.” You grind your hips against his, his teeth sinking into his lip as you grind against his bulge. “Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself while thinking about me?” 
“Too many to count, love.” He groans, leaning his forehead against yours. “Sounded so sweet, getting ruined by our alpha.” 
“Been so patient, waiting for this.” You gasp, still rocking in his lap, the wetness between your thighs intensifying from the friction. “Tell me how you want me.” 
“Sit on my face.” He growls, pushing you off his lap so he can lay down on the bed. 
You shove your pants and underwear down your legs, fighting the urge to be bashful. Kyle has already seen you at your most vulnerable, been up close and personal with your most private parts. Yet, it feels different like this. More intimate, and less of a necessity. 
You take his hand as he offers it, letting him guide you to kneel over his face. You grip the headboard as you hover over him, his hands settling on your hips. 
“Wait-” You say, before he can pull you down onto his face. “What if I suffocate you?” 
“Then I’ll die a happy man.” He says, tugging you down onto his mouth. 
You let out a gasp as his tongue drags through your folds, already soaked from his teasing. His tongue flicks across your clit, eliciting a quiet moan from your lips. Your hips jerk when his mouth closes around your clit, suckling at it with a lewd smack of his lips. 
“Fuck!” You gasp, grinding your hips against his face as he continues to tease your clit, drawing patterns on it with his tongue. 
You’re close already, your legs trembling around his head. He holds you steady, keeping you still above him as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it harshly. Your knees attempt to squeeze around his head as you cum, soaking his face with a cry. He continues to lap at your folds, licking up every last bit of your release before he finally lets you move off his face.
You drop to the side, staring down at him as you try to catch your breath. He licks his lips, his face shiny with your juices. He reaches a hand over, tangling his fingers in your hair as he pulls your face down to his, kissing you. You moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue and lips, already starting to get wet again. 
Kyle wraps his arms around you, flipping you onto your back under him. He hovers over you, the bulge in his pants very visible, even from this position. 
“Sweet little omega.” He says, nipping at your lips. “So fucking perfect.” 
“Kyle,” You gasp, pulling him down into a kiss. “Need you.” 
“I got you.” He soothes you, pressing another kiss to your lips before he sits back on his knees between your legs, staring down at you. He drags his fingers through your folds, still just as slick as they had been before your orgasm. “So fucking wet.” He groans, hastily undoing his belt and pants, kicking them off the end of the bed. 
You stare at him in awe, his cock just as beautiful as he is. Long and thick, curved just slightly. You can’t help but ogle him as he wraps a hand around the base, squeezing it. He’s hard, raging hard, the tip leaking precum already. He really has been so patient, waiting for this. You almost feel bad making him wait so long, but he had agreed to be patient, if only to keep Johnny from making everyone’s lives miserable with his pouting if he didn’t get to go first. 
It’s only fair that you let Johnny go first too, considering Kyle will likely be the one you spend the most time with. It’s only natural, thanks to your bond with John. Kyle’s your beta, just as much as John is your alpha. You’d like Johnny to be your beta too, but you know without that bond with Ghost, it’ll never feel quite the same as it does with Kyle. Regardless, you’ll continue to treat Johnny as if he was your beta. 
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Kyle asks, watching you as you get lost in thought.
You truly do it at the worst possible times.
You lift your gaze to his, staring into those big brown eyes. “Just waiting on you to hurry up and fuck me.” 
You let out a yelp as Kyle’s hand smacks your inner thigh, the sound cracking through the room. 
“Don’t get cheeky now.” He warns, rubbing the spot on your skin that’s quickly turning warm from his smack. “Just making sure you’re alright.” 
“Fine.” You say, spreading your legs further for him. “Be better if you finally fucked me.” 
Your laugh is broken by a moan as he drags his head through your folds, his hand falling to grip your waist. 
“That needy for me, huh?” He asks, teasingly pressing the tip of his cock into you before pulling back. 
“Just worried you might not make it since you’ve waited so long.” You gasp, trying to move your hips to take him deeper into you, but he pins you with the hand on your hip. 
“Careful what you wish for.” He says, the warning clear in his tone. You handled Johnny just fine, you can certainly handle Kyle. 
You hope. 
He finally takes pity on you, sinking his cock deeper into you. You moan at the stretch, flopping back on the bed as you try to relax around him. He rolls his hips in short thrusts, sinking deeper and deeper as you open up to him. You reach for him as he sinks even further into you, his body folding over yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, staring up at him as he seats himself completely inside you, hips pressed flush against yours. 
“Hi.” You breathe, getting lost in his soft gaze. 
“Hi, love.” He grins down at you, fingers brushing your cheeks as he leans on his elbows above you. “Doing alright?” 
You nod, squeezing around him. “Yeah. Feels good.” 
“Good.” He says, leaning down to kiss you. “Been waiting so long for this. Feels better than I imagined.” 
You let out a quiet whine, clenching around him again. The thought of him imagining this, trying to picture what you’d look like, what you’d feel like while he waited patiently for his turn has your body burning hot. You shift your hips below him, causing him to move inside you. 
“Kyle?” You breathe, shifting again. “Please move.” 
“I got you, love.” He smiles down at you, pulling his hips back before slowly pressing forward again. 
Your head falls back as he moves, keeping his pace slow and languid. Heat burns through your veins, your very nerve endings alive as he slowly rolls his hips into you. Something thrums in the back of your mind, the mark on your shoulder almost tingling as you stare up at him, your fingers trailing over the mark on his shoulder, a mirror of the one on your own. A shudder runs through him as your fingers brush the scar, his lips parting in a low groan. You clench around him at the sight of such unbridled pleasure on his face, pulling him closer against your body.
He drags your pleasure out as he makes love to you, slow and passionate and deliberate with every movement. You know you won’t last much longer, the sensations beginning to overwhelm you. 
“I’m close.” You breathe into Kyle’s ear, pressing kisses across his neck. “Don’t stop.” 
“Gonna cum for me?” He groans, keeping his thrusts steady. “Gonna let me see that beautiful face as you come undone for me?” 
Your back arches as you cum, pushed over the edge by his words. Your nails bite into his shoulders, but he offers no complaint as he continues to roll his hips into yours, working you through your orgasm as he chases his own. His pace picks up slightly as he gets closer and closer to the edge, your eyes on his face, wanting to watch him now. 
“Your turn.” You breathe, still trying to catch your breath from your orgasm as you clench around him. 
His head tilts back, lips parted in a deep moan as his hips jerk. His cock twitches inside you, his thrusts getting sloppy as he cums. You trail your hands over his back, sinking your teeth into your lip as you watch his face morph into complete bliss. You’ve never seen anything quite so beautiful. 
He collapses on top of you, just managing to keep his weight off of you thanks to his elbows planted on the bed beside your head. You continue to rub his back, fingers tracing the smooth, sweat slicked skin, only pausing to trace the scars that you find. Kyle presses soft kisses to your face, slowly trailing lower across your jaw and neck. He presses a kiss to your mark, a shudder running through you. He lets out a groan as you clench around him, shifting so he’s face to face with you again. 
“Give me a minute.” He says, slipping out of you as he presses a kiss to your lips. 
“Tired already?” You ask cheekily. 
“No,” He says, kissing you again before slowly sliding down your body. “Just need a minute to catch my breath. Besides,” He settles between your thighs, pressing them open so he’s face to face with your pussy. “I’ve got a mess to clean up.” 
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You stand outside the door of John’s office, brows pulled into a frown. You have a feeling you already know what he’s going to say, yet your mind keeps reeling, coming up with the most fantastical ideas as to why you were summoned to his office in the middle of the day. It’s weird that he’s in his office in the middle of the day. Usually they’d be off training, but he’d pulled them all into a meeting this morning after breakfast, one that had gone into your usual lunch time, and then they hadn’t gone to train after you finally got to eat. 
“Come in.” 
Your hand pauses on the handle as you hesitate, almost as if you could prevent what’s going to happen by just not going in. It’s a ridiculous thought. Avoiding this will only likely get you into trouble. 
You step into the office, the air inside different from any of the other times you’ve been in his office. John’s face looks grim and focused behind his desk, and it’s not hard to tell you’re not facing John right now, you’re facing Captain Price. 
You take the seat across from him at his desk when he motions to it, trying to fight the tears threatening to brim in your eyes as you stare at him. You won’t cry. You knew this was going to happen eventually. You knew going in what was going to inevitably happen. You had been well prepared for this part of your new reality, yet you don’t want to acknowledge it now that you’re staring it in the face. 
“I know you’ve likely already figured out what’s going on.” He says, his voice gruff and deeper than normal. 
You can see it in his face. He’s fighting his own battle with having to tell you. You hadn’t expected it, to see him struggle with it. He knew it as well as you did. He knew it better than you did, and yet, you can see the turmoil behind that focused gaze. 
He lets out a sigh as he continues, hands closing into fists on his desk, his tone almost apologetic. The words sting despite the fact you had known they were coming, despite the fact you had expected them when you walked into the office. “This morning we had a debrief for a new assignment. We’ll be leaving tonight. All four of us.”  
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riality-check · 8 months
Text
The eagerly awaited part 2 of the DILF!Steve concert saga is here!! Part 1, in case you missed it.
"You're not going."
"Come on! I haven't thrown up in an hour!"
"The drive to the venue is an hour and a half."
"Steve-"
"And if you throw up in my car-"
"Oh my God-"
"I'll kill you."
Steve doesn't need to see Dustin's eye roll in order to feel the full force of it through the phone.
"I'll just kill you. You'll have a headstone within the week that says Here Lies Dustin Henderson: Rightfully Murdered for Puking in Steve Harrington's Car," he continues as he packs Capri-Suns into the cooler for the car ride.
He doesn't remember ever being that thirsty as a kid, but if Anna wants strawberry kiwi, Anna gets strawberry kiwi. It helps that it's Steve's favorite flavor, too.
"I'd need a big ass headstone to fit all of that," Dustin snaps.
"Your big-ass ego would demand no less, shithead," Steve shoots back.
"Swear jar, Daddy!" Anna calls from her room, across the house because while she doesn't listen to Steve when he's right in front of her, she can hear him break the swear jar rule from halfway across the world.
He zips up the cooler, fishes a quarter out of his pocket, and throws it into the half-full soup can next to the stove.
(A quarter doesn't mean much, but Anna doesn't know that. The day Steve teaches that kid about inflation is the day his pockets become permanently empty.)
"Did she just swear jar you?" Dustin asks from over the phone.
"You baited me into it."
"I did no such thing."
Steve rolls his eyes. "You're not coming, though, are you?"
Dustin sighs, and, for all his teasing, Steve does genuinely feel bad. "I still feel like if I breathe wrong, I'll hurl, so, no. I don't think I'll manage the car ride, nevermind the actual show."
"Sorry dude."
"Don't be. Some dickhead will live stream the whole thing on Instagram, anyway. I'll live vicariously through them."
Steve snorts and picks up the cooler. He got Anna dressed beforehand, so it's just a matter of getting her to stop playing with whatever toy she dug up - Play-Doh has been the fixation of the week - in her room so they can go.
"Besides," Dustin continues, and Steve hates where this is going. "Anna loved the show, and you've got a reason-"
"Nope," Steve says, knocking on Anna's door. "Don't finish that sentence."
"All I'm saying-"
"I know what you're gong to say, which means you know my answer. I don't date."
Anna opens her door. From the little Steve can see inside, there are at least three containers of Play-Doh open and strewn across the floor. He thinks her Barbies are involved in it somehow.
"Time to go," Steve says, and he thinks, Please don't let there be Play-Doh in the Barbie hair.
"Five more minutes," Anna tries.
"Nope. Clean up and roll out."
"Hi, Anna," Dustin says through the phone.
"Uncle Dusty!" Anna shrieks, and she starts jumping up and down. "Are you comin', too?"
Dustin sighs, and Steve can't tell if it's at the nickname or if he's still cursing the universe. "No, but you and your dad have a great time, okay?"
"Can you, can you tell Daddy I should get five more minutes?"
Steve raises his eyebrows at her. Anna, to her credit, ignores him wonderfully.
"If you clean up," Dustin says, because he's actually Steve's favorite person right now, "you get to do more headbanging at the concert."
Anna gasps like Steve didn't already tell her that earlier today, and she gets to work on putting her toys away. Steve helps, of course, and he finds that there is, in fact, Play-Doh in two of her Barbies' hair.
Fun. They're going to turn into Buzzcut Barbies when Anna goes to sleep because he can already tell that they are the furthest thing from salvageable.
But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting Anna in the car, deploying the first two of many strawberry kiwi Capri Suns from the cooler, and making the drive to the venue, which Steve does with minimal road rage and accompanied by the Disney radio station.
Success by all metrics, really.
Dinner might as well be now, so Steve shells out a truly disgusting amount of money for overpriced chicken nuggets and fries at the venue. Anna will only eat half her portion but say she's hungry later, but that's what the snacks and water Steve smuggled in via his jacket are for.
They get to their seats, dinner finished up, just as the lights go down for the first opener. Steve looks to his left, half-expecting Eddie and his friends to be there before remembering that they won't be.
He tries not to feel too disappointed. He fails miserably.
The seat next to him, however, isn't empty. There's a note taped to the back of it, one addressed to Steve and Miss Anna, so Steve feels alright taking and opening it.
At the top, there's a messily scrawled phone number. Underneath, it says:
Here's my number. Probably a bad idea to call with all the noise. Texting works, though you should do that after the show. I'll be a little busy until then.
-Eddie
Steve puts the note in his pocket, puts Anna's ear defenders on, puts his own earplugs in, and looks at the stage, where-
Hang on.
He squints at the stage, where four guys have started playing a song that, frankly, sounds too much like literally all the music Steve listened to yesterday for him to care about all that much. The drummer is pretty small, with wild, curly hair. The bassist looks familiar. The lead singer, who is very talented but not to Steve's personal taste, also looks familiar. And the guitarist-
No way. No way in hell.
It's a total coincidence. Lots of guys have long, curly hair and heavy jewelry and big eyes and are wearing formal wear, for some reason, and catch Steve's eye, and-
"Thank you for such a great welcome!" the guitarist says, and his smile totally isn't doing anything to Steve, thanks very much.
Anna stops moving, where she's standing next to Steve, and climbs up into his lap to get a better look at the stage. She looks out, then back at Steve, then out, then back at Steve, making a face as confused as Steve feels.
Some days, he thinks he ended up with a clone, not a kid.
"I'll get off the mic in a second. I only do the talking because Jeff," the guitarist points at the lead singer, who ducks his head, "is really shy."
Jeff. That name is definitely relevant, but Steve is a permanent resident of denial.
"We fought about what song we were going to include next in our set list, so much so that we didn't decide until yesterday and had to consult a tiebreaker."
Okay, maybe Steve is a less permanent resident of denial than he thought.
"So, thank you to Miss Anna, who did great at headbanging for her first time-"
Anna whips around so fast, her forehead nearly collides with Steve's jaw.
"And to Steve, who's a big fan of American Psycho."
At the song name, the crowd loses their minds, and if Anna wasn't sitting right in front of him, Steve would join them.
Because what the fuck is happening right now?
His question isn't answered. In fact, about five more questions pop up in its stead when, during the bridge of the song, Jeff puts on a clear rain jacket and picks up a prop axe.
Please, God, don't let this traumatize my kid, Steve thinks.
Anna, thankfully, doesn't get scared. When Jeff brings the axe down, again and again, Steve's weirdo daughter fucking smiles. And giggles. It's kind of cute, actually.
When the song ends, she turns back to Steve.
"That's Eddie onstage," Steve says, and saying it, somehow, makes it real.
"I thought so!" Anna says, and she turns back to watch the show. Steve puts an arm around her waist so she doesn't fall off his lap when she bangs her head to the music.
The rest of the songs, in Steve's opinion, are better than the opening song. They're more melodic, which Steve can definitely get behind, and each of them has a gimmick onstage, all based off of various horror movies. It's ridiculous, but also really, really cool.
And Eddie, onstage, because it is the same guy who flirted with him and was so sweet to Anna yesterday, is really, really hot.
Steve has never had a thing for guitarists before. He's never had a thing for musicians before. Hell, until a year ago, he didn't realize he had a thing for men.
Eddie is. Uh. Yeah. Really doing it for him.
Steve doesn't know whether it's his enthusiasm, or the way he moves, or seeing his hair tied up, or the fucking dress pants and suspenders, or just his hands, but he does know he has to get himself in check because this is an all ages show and he's here with his daughter.
He already knows he can't add these songs to his grading playlist, not when they're accompanied by visuals of Eddie playing his guitar.
Sweet Jesus.
"Alright, that's our set!" Eddie says. "Thanks, y'all, for sticking around for us, and let's give it up for the next act!"
The crowd, including Anna and Steve, cheer as they exit and the lights go up.
Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket, fully intending to add Eddie's number to his contacts, and is greeted by not one, not two, but sixteen missed calls from Dustin Henderson.
Naturally, Steve calls him back. "Who died?"
"What the fuck?" Dustin yells, and Steve just puts the phone on speaker to save the rest of his hearing. "Did Eddie fucking Munson just personally thank you from the stage?"
"Swear jar, Uncle Dusty!" Anna says.
"Sorry," Dustin says. "But Steve. Answers. Now."
"How do you even-"
"Instagram live. Is Eddie the guy you were telling me about yesterday?"
Steve takes his phone off speaker. Prior experience tells him that this conversation has a less than zero chance of staying PG, nevermind PG-13.
"Yeah," Steve says. "He is."
"The one who flirted with you, and you forgot to ask for his number."
"Well, I have it now."
"What?" Dustin shrieks, and Steve is incredibly thankful that he didn't take his earplugs out.
"He left me his number on the seat."
"Text him."
"I was going to, until I saw that you called me sixteen times."
"Jesus Christ, Eddie Munson was flirting with you."
Steve rolls his eyes and hands a pack of gummy bears to Anna when she taps his arm. "He could have just been nice. I don't even know if he's into guys."
"Have you looked at him?"
"Wow, Dustybuns, I didn't know you were homophobic."
"I think it's the complete opposite of homophobic to try to get you laid."
"Hanging up!" Steve shouts because a part of him will never see Dustin as any older than thirteen, and no thirteen year old should ever say that.
"Text-"
Steve hangs up the call. "Can I have a gummy bear?"
"No," Anna says, mouth full, in her seat, legs swinging.
"I bought them."
She shrugs. "You gave them to me. Mine now."
Steve stares. She stares right back.
He sighs and opens a new pack of gummy bears.
With his mouth full of sweet Haribo corpses, Steve takes out the note and adds Eddie to his contacts. Before he can overthink it, he sends him a message:
I guess I don't have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we're even on that front, I'm a teacher, and Anna's full time job is preschool.
He tucks his phone back into his pocket and focuses on making this a good experience for Anna, who somehow wormed her way into a conversation with the intimidating-looking couple sitting next to her.
Because it's totally not like a literal rockstar is going to text him back. Right?
Part 3!!
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norrizzandpia · 30 days
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So American (OB38)
Summary: To the song So American by Olivia Rodrigo. In which a Brit and an American fall so deeply in love with each other.
Warnings: suggestive scenes, language, so much fluff omg, reader is from America (specifically California), reader wants to be a writer and loves Jane Austen, reader loves London, idk if you can tell yet but this is HEAVILY indulgent, reader goes to University of San Francisco (that part is not self indulgent lol)
Note: I couldn’t help myself ive had this idea for too long, my debut Ollie Bearman fic! I hope you like it because i do 🤭
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Eighteen and baby-faced, Y/n thought her trip to London with her best friends would be fun and outrageous. She expected when they touched down in Heathrow that the trip would bring countless amounts of unique memories. It was part of their celebration of completion in their first year in college, a week-long trip to one of their favorite places to welcome the desperately needed summer.
None of them expected for Y/n to slam into a tall body when they were running to a musical before the doors closed and none of them expected that tall body to be that of another eighteen year old who found the short, American girl too cute to tear his eyes away from.
Ollie hadn’t been expecting much when he decided to take a day trip into London, wanting to spend the day wandering around one of his favorite cities. Though, when his eyes graced him the vision of y/h/c hair and a flushed girl frazzled in front of him, he knew it would be one to remember.
She was short, almost too short as his neck craned down to meet her eyes and the two murmured out apologies as he knelt down to pick up her bag that had dropped when they both rounded the same corner too fast.
Her ID slipped out, California’s name in bold letters right at the top and made Ollie laugh.
”American?” He smiled as Y/n’s friends glanced at each other from the side.
Y/n grinned, “Yep, American.”
Part of him knew getting into business with someone who lived on another continent couldn’t be smart, but he couldn’t bear to think of not seeing her again. Her beauty struck him and there were no thoughts in his mind when he asked for her number when she mumbled something about having to leave.
Y/n’s wide eyes turned around to meet his once more, “My number?”
Ollie nodded, his hand in his pocket and clutching his phone, “Your number.”
Her friends behind her giggled before shoving her toward the British boy who they had no idea was not your average or normal eighteen year old. Y/n took his phone lightly and pressed the correct digits. When she returned it, her name staring back at him, he blushed, “Y/n. That’s cute.”
Her cheeks warmed just like his as her friends began tugging on her hand and yelling about making the showtime, “What’s your name?!” She yelled as they dragged her away.
He waved with a beam, “Ollie!”
Ollie. That’s cute.
That summer, Y/n never went back to California. The moment she began talking with Ollie and he began taking her out on dates before she was supposed to leave, she knew there would be no way she could leave him. She canceled her flight back after Ollie had begged her to stay, and told her friends they needed to go back without her, that there was something more she needed to explore in London.
The girls had anticipated it, honestly. When they had seen the dazed grin on their friend’s face every time she came back from seeing the boy, they knew there was not enough willpower to hold her back from changing plans.
She would come back for the next school year, but it was clear if things went well, which they seemed they would be, she would stay for the summer.
And that she did.
Ollie forced her around all of England, showing her his favorite nooks and crannies of the country he grew up in. They would spend hours in his car as he drove her around, to the end of the country and back, just so she could experience his favorite view too. Their moments spent together forced the two to get to know each other wholly. Y/n found out about his racing career, gaped at him when he mentioned his Formula 1 race, and Ollie found out about her mundane life as a student at University of San Francisco. Honestly, he loved how regular she was. He craved her stories of college parties and nights spent up until three AM trying to turn in a paper. He loved her life stories. She loved his. They made for a good duo.
When the end of the two months drew near, tears were shed and words of distance were stressed. As they stood at the entrance to Heathrow, Ollie held Y/n in his arms and promised to find another time for her to come visit him, or one where he would come visit her. He was insistent and while they wouldn’t say it then, they were already in love.
That proved true a few months later, after calls and texts back and forth, when Y/n turned up at Heathrow once more. She was on Christmas break, one that granted her time to see her boyfriend, and while her family had been supportive of her skipping the holiday to go see someone that clearly made her so happy, she still felt a bit guilty to cancel. Though, that feeling diminished when she descended down the escalator and found Ollie holding a large sign with her name on it in pinks and greens, a large smile on his face as she yelped out and sprinted toward him.
“OLLIE!” Her bags dropped and she flew into his arms as he yelled her name back, the sign he had worked so hard on thrown to the floor the moment she got close.
He kissed her cheek and the two were looked upon adoringly by bystanders in the airport as he gently set her down on the ground, kissing her softly and whispering how much he had missed her.
When he led her out of the doors, all her belongings in his hands, they smiled brightly at each other as if to confirm how much they would make this month worth their while.
Drivin’ on the right-side road, he says I’m pretty wearin’ his clothes. And he's got hands that make hell seem cold. Feet on the dashboard, he’s like a poem I wish I wrote. I wish I wrote.
Ollie clutched Y/n’s thigh as he drove to their favorite spot, one he had shown her during the summer. Her head lulled to the side, staring at him lightly and lovingly right when he glanced at her, his eyes roaming over her body.
Her eyebrows pulled together, “What?”
He smirked, “You look pretty wearing my clothes.” His fingers traced up her stomach to tug on his sweatshirt that adorned her upper body. The way it draped largely over her made his heart warm and how she had the hood pulled up over her messy hair made him want to pull the car over and kiss her silly.
She looked cozy. Cozy enough that his hand traveled under the material to rest around her waist. His warm hands made her feel more sleepy, the clock in the car reading a time too early, as she cuddled further into herself. Ollie noticed the yawn that drew from her and smiled to himself, his eyes averting back to the lonely road they were on.
“Can I put my feet on the dash?” She murmured, eyes closing and head tucking further into his sweatshirt.
Ollie patted her leg, “Sure, baby. I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”
He turned the music down enough for her to find sleep again and when her phone pinged beside him, he glanced down randomly. His head had snapped back up before he could genuinely realize the notification he had seen. When it dawned on him what he might’ve seen, his eyes drifted down once more and tapped the screen to see it again.
A notification from In-n-Out stayed put on her screen and he stifled a laugh before whispering, “Oh, she’s so American.”
And he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much. I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. I might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love.
Ollie howled from laughter as Y/n giggled, her joke going over better than she expected. She knew it was funny, but she didn’t think the red in his face from not breathing was necessary. Still, she admired the way he admired her and went along with his hysterics. When his breathing regulated and his hunched over position came back to a seated one on the cold bench in Hyde Park, her stares were finally noticed by him.
”What?” He asked, arm wrapping around her shoulder as he shoved a piece of croissant in his mouth. He offered the last piece to Y/n and she took it, murmuring before putting it in her mouth, “Nothing. You just think I’m funny.”
Ollie’s eyebrows rose and he blew out a breath, “I think you’re hilarious.”
”I wonder how much you’ll laugh with me when you’re wasted.” Y/n’s head cocked to the side as she lost herself to thoughts.
Ollie giggled, “Probably an annoying amount when I’m pissed.”
Y/n’s jaw dropped in horror, “Not when you’re pissed! Don’t pee yourself!”
The couple turned to each other in confusion, Ollie fully taken aback, “Who said anything about peeing themselves?!”
Y/n jabbed a finger into his chest, “You did!”
Ollie pushed her softly, his hand on her waist drawing her back to him, “No, I didn’t!”
Her head fell into his chest in a fit of laughter, “Yes! I was talking about getting drunk and then you just brought up pissing yourself!”
In a moment of realization, Ollie found himself howling with laughter again. His hands clutched her frozen ones in the midst of winter before he got out, “It means the same thing! Wasted and pissed! Drunk!”
Her mouth fell open as she began to understand. Then, she pulled a face, “Why would you British people say pissed? That’s weird.”
Ollie gasped with a smile, “Hey! Don’t be rude.”
She crossed her arms, “You’re the one that insinuated peeing yourself.”
Ollie groaned and scrambled from the seat, running away from her with loud laughter, “Get away from me, American!”
She got up, rushing after him, with strangers giving them questionable looks as they began running through the bushes and trees of Hyde Park,
As she followed after him, his smile getting caught in her mind, she realized she had never felt this way about anyone. Sure, she had had guys in the past, but none of them compared to Ollie. The time they spent together, whether over the phone or in the actual presence of the other, always left her with a fuzzy feeling. A fuzzy feeling she always wanted to feel. The idea of forever was premature, but she was beginning to believe she was in love with the boy running away from her and jokingly berating her for being American. If she was in love, why not entertain the idea of marriage in her daydreams?
When she reached him, falling into his arms roughly with continued giggles, he leaned in and kissed her softly. The look in Ollie’s eyes when he pulled back made her think he might just be in love with her too.
Maybe they could entertain the idea of marriage in their daydreams together.
God, I’m so boring and I’m so rude. Can’t have a conversation if it’s not all about you; the way you dress and the books you read. I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when he’s with me, when he’s with me.
Y/n brushed her teeth in the white of Ollie’s bathroom, his parents having generously let her stay in their home during her stay for Christmas. Her best friend, Charlotte, stared back at her from the phone. Their FaceTime had just started and Y/n hadn’t waited to say any greetings before jumping into rambling about Ollie.
”Charlotte, I’m so obsessed with him. I think it’s unhealthy.” She laughed, Charlotte laughing with her. Ollie eavesdropped on the other side of the door. “He’s so sweet and attentive. He remembers all the little things and even suggests things he thinks I’ll love. Which I always do. The other day, we were walking around Sussex and he saw this small book in a window and forced me into the shop. Turns out he had found a Jane Austen Pride and Prejudice First Edition. He told me he remembered how much I loved that movie and that storyline. He even referenced exact sentences that I had said in the midst of my rant about how much I love Jane Austen books. I looked at the price tag, holy shit, Char, it was so expensive. I made him leave the store immediately because the look on his face told me he needed no convincing in buying it for me. I thought I was in the clear, but apparently he’s friends with the owner of that store, so he went in early the morning after, while I was still asleep, and bought it for me. He surprised me with it along with breakfast in bed. I almost cried, Char. He’s even started reading it with me because he knows how much I love it.”
Charlotte’s eyes twinkled at the look on her friend’s face. Charlotte loved Ollie for the way he treated Y/n. “That is fucking insane. This man is in love with you, Y/n.”
Ollie’s heart exploded in his chest from the other side of the door. He had been caught.
Y/n’s whispering was loud enough for him to hear, “I think I’m in love with him too. I can’t get over his smile and his favorite pair of shoes that he most definitely needs to repurchase. I love his humor and how much he wants to make me happy. I love how he makes me feel so wanted and important. I love everything about him from his ratty Ferrari sweatshirt to the moles on his cheek.”
Ollie almost started giggling, jumping up and down like a schoolgirl, at her confession. He was ecstatic. This feeling was better than when he scored points in his first Formula 1 race. Yet, he didn’t want to let her know he knew yet. He wanted to plan something, something big that would show how serious he was about her.
The two friends hung up the phone after Y/n realized what time it was and rattled off to Charlotte about Ollie waiting for her in bed. Charlotte tried not to point out the suggestive nature of her statement, but she failed. “Use protection!” She yelped just as the phone hung up. Y/n stood in the threshold to Ollie’s bedroom, him staring back at her as the two took in Charlotte’s warning.
Ollie flopped down into the sheets, Y/n falling right into his arms. He kissed her neck and whispered, “She doesn’t need to worry. We will.”
They wouldn’t end up falling asleep until far into the night.
I apologize if it’s a little too much, just a little too soon, but if the conversation ever were to come up I don’t want to assume this stuff. But, ain’t it love? I think I’m in love.
Ollie couldn’t wait to tell her. Let her know that he felt the same way. And Y/n couldn’t wait to tell him about her most favorite idea, one she had come up in the wake of telling her best friend how much she loved her boyfriend. Neither of them knew the other had something so serious to discuss as they drove down the quiet street. Ollie had shoved her in the car, telling her he was taking her to a picnic under the stars. He threw his coat over her, taking his other for himself, and drove the few minutes before arriving at the open grass area near his house. He helped her out of the car, leading her to the trunk to get the box of food his mother had helped him make in preparation for this, and found a perfect spot with the clearest view of the sky.
The cold, winter air made them curl into each other, creating the perfect amount of warmth to stay. Y/n didn’t know how to breach her topic as they popped spoonfuls of soup into their mouths. Ollie beat her to it.
“Can I tell you something?” He whispered, finding her soft eyes.
She nodded, “Of course, baby.”
He sighed, putting his soup off to the side and trying to rid his body of unnecessary nerves. He knew she felt the same. Still, his hands shook slightly, not from the cold, “You have completely wrecked my life. You were so unexpected and not something I was ever anticipating, but I am so happy you fell into my life, Y/n. I will always look back on that moment at that random corner in London with so much love because…” He took a deep breath, “I love you and that was the start of you and me.”
Y/n’s face beamed and she set her soup down, throwing herself into Ollie. He fell backward, the two falling into a heap of limbs on the blanket below them. She kissed his face all over with sloppy, lovesick kisses, “Ollie! I love you too!”
He would never get over how her voice sounded whenever she said his name. Sure, she had said it in annoyed manners before when he had ticked her off, but, even then, he loved the way her accent sounded around the syllables. Never did he think he would be putting American accents first before British ones on his list of most beloved accents. Though, he was beginning to find that her smiling face was getting him to do a lot of crazy things lately. Like, buying a book worth thousands of dollars and reading it along with her. Chilling.
She tapped the back of his palms before tugging lightly on his fingers, “I have something to run past you.”
He nodded, pulling her between his legs and stroking her back. She let her legs wrap around his waist as they continued to sit on the blanket, “You know how much I want to be a writer? The reason why I’m studying English and everything?”
Ollie continued nodding, tilting his head as to tell her he had no clue where this was going.
She cleared it up quickly, however, when she nervously rambled, “What if I transferred to a UK university?”
Ollie’s heart almost flew from his chest, “Like, move here?”
She gave a small smile, “Yeah. I mean, I’ve always wanted to move here and study here. I love it here. But, now,” She kissed his lips, “I have more of a reason to. Would that be something you’d be okay with?”
He scoffed, “Would that be something I’d be okay with?! Fuck, yeah! Oh my God, Y/n, please move here. Holy shit, move here.” He begged with the cheekiest grin on his face.
She laughed, “Okay, okay. I still have to be accepted, but I have good chances with my grades and everything.”
Ollie shook her body lightly, “No, you’ll be accepted. If I start a manifestation journal specifically for this, would you judge me?”
Y/n cackled, “No, go right ahead. Tap into that spiritual force, Bearman.”
He kissed her hard, happy it seemed to work out for them. God, he wanted it to work out for them so bad.
And he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much. I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. I might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love.
ONE YEAR LATER
Y/n walked down the street to her dorm, a quizzical look etched into her face as she rounded the corner and ran into a hard body. Her eyes found his familiar ones from her position below him and his smile welcomed her home after a long day.
Ollie laughed, “We have got to stop meeting like this.”
She tucked herself under his arm as they began walking, “You just need to stop walking so fast.”
He laughed at her comment before leaning down and kissing her cheek, “How was your day?”
She groaned, “So long. English in a UK university is much more in depth than I was expecting. It puts American colleges to shame. Plus, for lunch, the waiter screwed up my order.”
Ollie frowned, “Oh, no. What’d they mess up?”
Y/n gave him a sad smile, “I asked for chips with my sandwich and they gave me French fries.”
There was silence before Ollie shook his head with a soft smile, “Baby, French fries are chips here.”
She stopped dead in her tracks, “What do you mean?”
He playfully rolled his eyes, “No one says French fries here. If you want that, it’s chips.”
She stood in front of him in a stance that suggested this was an outrage. He chuckled at her, “Then, what do I say if I want chips?!”
He pushed her hair away from her face lovingly, “Crisps, love.”
She huffed and turned away, walking down the sidewalk before he quickly caught up with her. She grumbled from under his arm, “You need to teach me these crazy discrepancies.”
Ollie nodded and kissed her hair, “It’s not my fault you’re so American, but sure, I will. We can start now.”
Apparently, that sufficed for her as she let out an agreeing noise, “Yeah, so where are we going for this date.”
He put his finger to his lips and shushed her, “No, it’s a surprise.”
Her mind loved the fact that he was so obsessed with planning their outings by himself. She loved how much he initiated everything. She had never felt so taken care of. She always envied the girls loved wholly by their boyfriends and now she had that for herself. There would be no day that would come that she took advantage of the boy she fell in love with two summers ago.
She shrugged, “You better be happy I trust you so much, I’d follow you into a dark cave without any questions.”
Ollie squeezed her, “I mean, I follow you anywhere you go, so if you’re not going into that cave, I’m not either.”
He pulled her down the stairs to the Tube as he slipped her backpack off her body and onto his. She kissed him in appreciation, “So, it’s settled. No dark caves.”
Ollie shook his head and led her to the place they needed to be. He held her hand tightly as they weaved through the crowds, his head flicking behind him to check on her frequently before just pushing her in front of him, his hands around her waist as he steered her.
When they got to their platform, he added his last thought to their conversation, “We need to get married first before wandering into dangerous caves.”
He said it so nonchalantly, it made her fall in love with him more. And when he met her eyes after he was met with silence, he found overwhelming joy within them.
He kissed her in the midst of the chaos underground, his hands cradling her face and hers loosely around his waist. They were a sight for sore eyes, but no one saw them in the midst of their special moment.
It was just for themselves and would be referred back to in the coming years as the moment where their forever really started.
Bloody hell, they were so in love.
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quierd-kitten · 1 year
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daegall · 4 months
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☆ macrocosm
➷ in which Luke would send you the sun and every asteroid, and you'd send him the moon and the stars.
pairing: Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo!reader
genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slight angst, established relationship!AU
warnings: one tiny injury, some cheesiness, and um issues with parents? also reader is implied to be female!!
word count: 1.2k words
a/n: hi all!!! my first time (and probably last LOL) time writing anything pjo :000 unless my brainrot gets bigger, i think this is the only thing i will only release, I hope you all enjoy and I'm sorry if I made any mistakes!! dont hesitate to tell me if i did or if i forgot to add a warning ^^ have a great day and merry late christmas!!!
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Luke Castellan is a great source of your happiness.
Whether it be bringing you a small snack while you work endlessly in the infirmary, or sitting there with you, waiting for you to finally be free of work to finally have a chat with you, with the biggest smile on his lips.
Or it could be from how he always strives to protect you, jumping right in the middle of an attack during capture the flag.
"I can handle myself, Luke." You'd tell him.
He believes you. Every bit of his being believes you. You're amazing with a sword, even more with a bow. Yet something in him pushes him to shield you from any form of danger.
Even when you feel the need to be annoyed at him, in the slightest. His sheepish, almost apologetic smile he gives you pulls at your heartstrings, like a magnet. To be honest, you'd surrender your entire being for him, you'd send him the moon and the stars if he asked you to. You just love him too much.
However, Luke Castellan is also sometimes (never) a pain in your ass.
Such as now, as he once again, shoots you a sheepish smile as he shows up at the entrance of the infirmary.
"What are you doing here?" You question him instantly. Although you have a rough scrunch in your eyebrows, and your arms are crossed, Luke knows you like the back of his hand.
The way your fingers fiddle lightly with the loose string of your orange T-shirt shows how you're genuinely worried, and there's just the slightest curl at your lips that he catches.
Luke pouts at you. You ought to punch him at how cute he looks.
"What? Am I not allowed to visit my favorite girl?"
You scoff, but don't distance yourself from him when he walks forward to wrap his arms around your waist. "Not when I'm pretty sure you have counselor duties,"
Warmth spreads through you, a familiar, nostalgic one. Such as a warm home, or a campfire, it ripples through your soul and body, as Luke's fingertips caress you gently.
"I got hurt," He replies simply.
As expected, his words cause you to pull away almost immediately, your hands cupping around his cheeks softly, as you tilt his head to check every surface of his skin.
Although Luke hates making you worry, he adores the way you care for him.
With a sly smirk, Luke raises his index finger slowly, watching as your eyes trail from his own, to his hand, and finally, the small cut on his finger.
In an instant, you push Luke away playfully, huffing in relief. "You idiot! I thought you were hurt!"
"But you don't understand," He sighs dramatically. Your lips curl up from his overexaggerated sad expression, holding a hand to his heart. "how much my heart hurts when I'm away from you,"
With a roll of your eyes, you step away from your boyfriend, walking to the other side of the infirmary to grab a bandaid. Luke follows you, as if a magnet, watching and admiring your every move.
He watches as you unwrap the bandaid, adores you as you wrap it around his finger carefully, and if he could, he would praise you as you place a small kiss on top of it. Praise you more than he's ever praised to his father, or any other god.
"Better?"
And when he looks in your eyes, he sees his whole universe. Doesn't matter if he's a human, or half god, or if the whole mystical world existed in the universe. As long as it had you, he knew he'd yearn for it for eternity.
And suddenly, there's a flicker. Luke doesn't know how he notices it, not when it's there for only the slightest moment, but he doesn't care.
You're sad.
Another great thing about your great boyfriend, he loves to comfort you.
His fingers caress lightly at the skin of your cheek, frowning worriedly. "Are you okay?"
You're surprised at his attention to the smallest details, confusion evident on your face. "How did you—"
"—I just know, baby," He chuckles. "now tell me, are you okay?"
You can't explain it. But you try, for Luke. You'd do anything for him.
"My dad," You start. This time, it's Luke's heartstrings that are pulled dangerously at. He knows how complicated your relationship with your dad is—hell, everyone at camp has a complicated relationship with their God parent!
Luke's thumb strokes your cheek dearly, urging you to continue.
"He... visited my sibling? I guess? I mean, not directly but, yeah,"
You are a person who's strong, who's always put together, even more so when you have to take care of people every day. Seeing you so... hurt, so vulnerable and weak, Luke wants to curse at Apollo himself, but knows better. He's not worth it. You, however, Luke will stay and wait forever for.
"He visited my brother in a dream. They had a whole conversation, caught up, and I'm happy for him, I am! I just—" You can't keep your lip from wobbling, your heart shaking just at the thought of what your brother had told the whole cabin just this morning.
They were all happy, so were you, asking him countless questions and eager to know how their father is doing, but you can't help but feel jealous.
Luke nods in understanding as you tell him this.
"I mean, he visits my brother, has a whole conversation with him all night in his dream... and he can barely spare a single word for me? What, not even a sign the he cares, that he's here?"
And when tears cascade down your cheek, Luke wants to destroy Olympus with his own bare hands. Maybe for another day, for now, he'll coo and bring you into his embrace, stroking at your back affectionately.
"It's okay baby, it's just me. Let it all out,"
Pent up stress from the week, added with your jealousy and confusion results in a full sob into your lover's shoulder, as he mumbles sweet nothings into your ear.
"I've got you, and I'm not going anywhere."
Your soul cleanses from the hatred and envy, replaced with the love and care that Luke provides, feeling safety and solace in his embrace alone.
"I'm sorry for burdening you like this,"
Luke's heart nearly physically cracks at your words, even more at your defeated eyes peering up at him.
He shakes his head, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. "Don't be sorry, baby," He mumbles, before pressing another kiss to your cheeks, pecking away your tears. "you could never burden me."
Finally, immense joy and love resonates through you, as it radiates off Luke and onto you, like the sun shines its rays onto earth, you feel complete with him.
"Thank you," You breathe out, staring into Luke's eyes with the most gratitude and love. And once again, he sees those eyes. The eyes that hold his universe, the eyes he'd yearn for forever. And when he leans down to connect your lips in a soft, loving kiss, he knows he will yearn them forever.
You'd send the moon and all the stars his way.
Luke would go to hell and back for you, he'd destroy Olympus for you. He'd be your sun and every asteroid, and you his moon and stars. Together, you'd have your own little universe, just for the two of you. Doesn't matter if you're human, or demigod, as long as he has you, and you have him, it'll forever be complete.
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medusas-graveyard · 10 months
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Currently obsessed with the concept of Danny 100% being the most Violent and youngest Wayne. I'm so sorry but the writing opportunity🥹🤌
Danny's rogues were all dead so they can't actually... Die again. Like— not in the normal way, that is. The only way that they could die is by crushing their core.
Cue Bruce Wayne and the whole family Finding out his extremely timid and closed off son/brother (yes, being ooc is the point here stfu😭) is arguably the strongest being in the universe and admitting that he has a tendency to have intrusive thoughts and horrible mood swings so he doesn't trust himself with doing the family's... 'business' (knowing damn well he could kill someone if he gets too agitated) and they're almost not convinced.
Emphasis on almost.
Once they watched as the youngest of them all completely threw down a weird eyeball (they later learn is an 'observant'), threw a green dagger right beside it, kicked it violently and threatened to gauge it's eye out and disintegrate it for interrupting their dinner.
He apologized to the family soon after the thing disappeared, back to completely timid and embarrassed.
Extra, Danny finding out about Joker:
News: Joker found dead in strange circumstances!
Bruce, turning to Danny: Danny....
Danny, who placed a bounty on Joker AND his soul in the ghost zone: *gasp* He died of strange circumstances? How unfortunate!
Bruce: *sigh* Chum...
Danny: I didn't do anything, my hands are clean!
Jason, in the background: Kid ilysm you're my favorite brother now
Another extra, about Vigilantism:
Danny, in tears: Leave me alone!
Dick & Tim: C'mon, it'll be fun!
Danny: Absolutely not!
Jason, watching the chaos unfold: Guys I don't think—
Alfred: Master Dick, Master Tim.
Danny: Alfreeeeed!
Bruce, pinching his nose: *sigh* Stop trying to make Danny a vigilante.
Dick & Tim: But—!
Bruce: No buts. We had an agreement.
Steph, in the background: A somewhat normal kid finally joined the family just leave him alone!
Danny, also in the background, sobbing: I'm already in charge of another dimension, give me a break!
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