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#But it’s a side story that tells you everything you need to know about who they would be if they were married
appleblueberry-pie · 23 hours
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YOU ARE EVERYTHING.
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Where: You were Satoru's young caretaker when he was a child being raised by the clan. You became everything he ever wanted, and when he needed you most, you were taken away by the people that made him who he is. He takes it to heart and sought out for you when he becomes an independent adult. (7 year age gap)
With you, he was nothing. With you, he wasn't a weapon. A gun with it's only purpose being to fire when it's trigger when it was pulled. With you, he wasn't a clan member, riches covering every inch of his floors and face. He wasn't the fear forced into those he faced, whether he liked it or not. He wasn't the balance of the planet he lived on. With you, he wasn't secretly scared. He wasn't silent. He wasn't silenced. He wasn't numb. He wasn't a thing. He wasn't an it. He was simply nothing. And being nothing with you made him become everything he could've ever hoped for.
He was a child, but he wasn't treated like one. And being his caretaker in such an....intimidating "home" made you sad for him. He was a blank canvas. He could've been rude to you. He could've spoken your ear off, threw things at you, berated you, cried, hid, smiled, anything. But he seemed so empty, alone, even though he was everything nature could've made him.
He was tired. You knew he was. A child shouldn't look at you the way he did when he first met you. So, in return, you gave him everything he deserved in hopes he'd realize that the way things are for him isn't how it is for everyone. And that he deserves a chance as well. At life, at living, loving, knowing and learning. So you cared.
I mean, it was your job to do it. It's in the name damnit. But that's not what they wanted you to do. You were just his baby sitter. Watch him for 5 hours a day, and they'll train him for 11 and then he sleeps for the rest. But with those 5 hours, you knew it could be more than just sitting around in his room or garden all day. So you attempted to incorporate some fun in every once and a while to try and get him to warm up to you.
You believe he was too used to people being there just to check on his well being; if he was living and breathing. So you gave some conversation crumbs. "Are you alright?", "Do you feel okay?" and the most difficult one, "How do you feel?" He would be a little taken aback by this last question(his face was still, but he would hesitate to answer). But he would answer, nonetheless. It felt like great progress knowing that he wouldn't flat-out ignore you. This was a great first step, in your opinion. And from there, you would continue talking to him.
Asking him how his day was during his lunch time. Offering to walk him around his place of living if he was bored of staying in his room. Asking if he wanted to wear something more comfortable if his traditional clothes bothered him too much. Making(one-sided) conversation while you cleaned his room. You would talk, but eventually, you would see him watching you talk as you cleaned.
About a few weeks later, he would finally warm up to talk back to you. Asking you questions about your little stories you'd tell him about your personal life. What would be provided during lunch that day, what he'd do once his break was over, asking how the weather would be. He'd also make requests that weren't the usual. Which includes the business his family would deal with that he's not usually provided with, if he could go with you while you did laundry across the hall, if he could stay with you during your break time, and....if you could help him with his assigned homework. He began to ask you to stick around while he did mundane tasks, and you realized how much of an impact you've made on his life just by being around and asking him to be present while you were there.
It took a month for him to become attached to you. You warned him multiple times that he shouldn't be so close to the women that are supposed to help around the house, and only help around the house. He didn't care and just wanted to stay by your side 24/7 when he realized how sweet affection could be, especially from someone as pretty and kind as you. You often snuck him little sweets from the kitchen, helped him read his favorite books, and you let him clean his room with you so that you two could spend more time together. You could tell he would always look forward to spending time with you and would nearly complain to his family when he had to go. Those 5 hours became less of a mindless bore and more of a mental exploration of what love and care truly is.
You were promoted to one of the head-maids in the house when his family realized how much easier it was to manage him when you were there to do it instead of the other women. He would comply so much more easier and obviously had a brighter look on his face when you came around to solve things that he was making hard for everyone else to deal with. Now, you were there when he woke up and went to sleep. You helped with his clothes and helped serve his lunch and his dinner. You made things easier for him to bare in the house. Which was your goal. You wanted him to be happy. And happy is what he finally was.
Days flew by with you there. Nights were softer and more beautiful when you were there towards the end of his day. Food tasted better, his training was easier to do and he felt something.
Something in his chest when you were around. It felt weird, but good at the same time. You often caught him rubbing his chest when you laughed at his sassy attitude and would see his ears turn pink. You'd tease him about him being shy and would pinch his cheek, which made his ears and neck turn red, which would make you laugh harder. It was nice having a friend for once, he would think.
But maybe he shouldn't have gave in to his desires. Maybe he should've pushed you away like he did when you first started interacting with him. Maybe he should've ignored his chest when it increased its beat when you came around. Because maybe then, his family wouldn't notice how much of an impact you've had on his life. Maybe they wouldn't separate you two since you guys loved being around each other so much. Maybe he should've ignored you when you told him with a sad face that you would only be around until tomorrow to pack your things.
If only he saw the way his own face dropped when those words slipped out of your mouth. The way his face when to horror, to sadness, to that stone cold look he's had for the longest time. You wanted to caress his face to soften the hard tension that resided in his forehead and cheeks. You wanted to hug him like he let you do when he wanted to cry so badly, but wanted to be a man. Well, a man is what they made him the moment they took away the one person that mattered to him.
When you left the clan house, you took his heart with him. But his devotion always stuck deep, deep in his stomach. And it wouldn't leave. He had never felt as angry as he did when you finally were escorted by car away from the home and his father had the nerve to tell him it was "for the best". He never clenched his fists so hard. Never wanted to wipe the tears off of his face so bad. But he didn't, in case you came back and wiped them off for him. Like you always did. But they dried on his face and remained until he washed his face in his bathroom alone. Too big for an 8 year old like him, but another person's presence would've been enough for him to ignore the empty, unneeded space.
And he remained that way. Alone. For years and years to come. And his yearning for you and your special care and love has been on the back of his mind as he continue to learn and grow, and he eventually became the weapon he was meant to be. He promised himself that he would never forget you. And he never forgot. He always remembered the warmth of your hands. The aura of your cursed energy, and how it felt when it lightly tickled his skin when he sat close to your side. How calm it made him feel. He never let himself forget, in hopes that he'd find you again one day. Little did he know that his efforts to remain in touch with the memories he had left wouldn't be done for nothing.
He couldn't believe his eyes. It was too dark. Too dark to see, but it was clear as day. That hair. That skin. That nostalgic scent and that energy. He ripped his blindfold off and felt his heart ache as it beats faster. "Whatthefuck." He muttered under his breath. It was cold and it certainly couldn't be comfortable like this. How long have you been here? Why were you here? Who did this to you? Was it really you? Was he dreaming?
He was informed of a missing sorcerer that hasn't been found in the past few weeks. Someone had hid you well with high security surrounding the area. No one could get in, so they obviously brought in their best weapon, him. He got through the "security" in a matter of seconds and reached you without so much as a blink of his eye. But you?? Why you? Is this what's been going on when he's been gone? You haven't gotten the strength to protect yourself so you go missing and let some nothings kidnap you and ruin your life?
He feels anger bubble in his stomach. Surprise and happiness surge his heart. The horror and confusion makes the rest of his emotions unbearable to handle. He doesn't know what to do or say. You're blindfolded, gagged, tied up and in thin clothing. From what he can see, they haven't done much but roughed you up and neglected you of things like food and water. Everything else seemed taken care of. Were they waiting for someone to bargain you back? The thought makes him grit his teeth and he'd rather not think about it. When he begins to undo your restrictions on your wrists and ankles, you let out noises of resistance and he tries to soothe you to tell you he's there to help you.
He removes your binds, your gag, and blindfold. You couldn't even hold yourself up, so he impatiently just teleports you back to his hotel room that was provided to him by the higher-ups for this mission. You immediately grow weak in the knees from the random moment of time-splitting transportation and drop to the floor, but he catches you. "I got you, I've got you. Let's get you on the bed, okay?" You're shaking in his arms and it takes everything in him to just not bombard you with questions and throwing past information on you to get you to remember him.
All you knew was that this random man that is intimidating the shit out of you with his cursed energy transported you to a hotel room after being tied up in a dark room all fucking week. A group of religious sorcerers out of nowhere asked you to join them one day when you were minding your own business at a flower shop. You declined and the leader stepped forward and dealt with you accordingly. You put up a great fight and his little family was going to step in, but you just couldn't get to him. So, he finished you first and kept you in a random dark room for 'safe keeping'.
But who was this? What was next after being kidnapped? Was he going to hurt you? Hurt you in ways the others hadn't? You hoped that for once in all of the time you had been held captive, that you'd finally catch a break and be given the necessities you needed to survive and be happy.
You blinked your eyes open, which was hard because the light from the ceiling-to-floor windows were nearly blinding you. The man had a tight grip on your arms and he continued to ask you questions about your well being that you couldn't understand at the moment. You scramble onto the bed and finally gain the sight and courage to look up at him. When your vision finally cleared, you were immediately flooded with memories of the past when you look into those familiar, tongue-numbing eyes.
You stared up at Satoru Gojo quietly for the first time in about 19 years.
.......That's right. It had been about 19 years since you last spoke. Years since you last gave up that life of following those dumb rules and took it upon yourself to teach yourself about the things they wouldn't tell you. To be better than they claimed you were. The byproduct of the people who nearly ruined your life was standing in front of you. No wonder you didn't like his energy. He had so much cursed energy oozing out of him that it made your muscles tense in a way it hadn't before. But that look in his eyes said something else entirely.
".....?" He wanted to say something to you badly, but you looked so scared. You averted your gaze before clenching your teeth. "Where...where am I?" You pathetically croaked out the words. You hadn't had a drink of water in so long. Satoru immediately rushed to the one on his night stand and opened it for you, giving it to you. You eyed the bottle, hand hesitantly reaching out. But you took it anyways, your drive for a drink overtaking your paranoia.
Most stress in your body faded when you drank the delicious mineral water and drained it in one go. Once you finished, you heaved a sigh in relief, the empty bottle hitting the ground. "You're in my hotel room. It wasn't safe where you once were. So, I just took you here."
You don't know if the man in front of you is still the boy you grew to love. But what you did know is that for the time being, you'd have to put your trust in him. You aren't healed, and you don't want any sorcerer government of any kind to know about your possible return. You'd have to ask him for help.
Satoru was more than happy to help you in any way he could. For so long, he was searching for you. His heart nearly broke into pieces when he kept searching, kept searching, and you just wouldn't be there. Not outside his door when he woke up. Not there when he would cry himself to sleep some nights with pounding headaches. And not there when he plainly lifted his head to the sky for forgiveness. He needed you. And here you are, needing him. And that look on your face was all he needed to know that this was his chance at redemption. To rebuild what once was broken. And to eventually gather warmth from being in your arms once again.
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As I see the word around me turning pink (or, in some cases, purple), I've decided that it's time to make a sequel to that tma post. Yes, I'm at episode 20. No, I'm not okay (I promise). Perhaps, I need therapy. Anyways, enjoy:
The Magnus Archives but I've met the fandom (and am even more confused)
There's an Archivist (you have to use the capital letter if you want to survive), his name is Jon,sometimes Jonathan and sometimes Jalapeño.
He is also somehow the author of the podcast, and the guy speaking. I don't know how. Nothing feels real anymore.
Apparently, he brings the romantic side of the podcast. I'm glad. He should think about bringing the "makes sense" side too.
#JusticeForMartin2024
Get. Sasha. And. Tim. Some. Fucking. Representation.
There's Gerard Keay, who doesn't have anything to do with Gerard Way (I checked), and I love him.
He's also very dead. My point still stands.
WHERE IS THAT FUCKING HOMOPHOBIC VASE WHY DON'T YOU WANT ME TO UNDERSTAND YOUR INSIDE JOKE, WHY?
There's a guy named Evan Lukas, whose name reminds me of another guy. Was it James Lukas? Peter Lukas? George Lukas? Not a single idea.
Five people told me to be scared of the Mikes.
Who are they?
Is that a sect? A typo? A secret level you unlock once you understand what that vase joke refers to?
There's a secret link between everything.
Is it that every one of the stories involves being scared of something, and being alone?
Wait. Nevermind. That's a horror podcast, people are usually scared in these. I'm trying to be logical here.
I miss Gerard Keay.
OH WAIT WAIT SORRY I DIDN'T TELL Y'ALL THAT JALAPENO CAME OUT OF HIS RECORDING CLOSET TO TALK TO A MADAM. THAT REALLY DISTURBED HIM AND HE HAD TO LOCK HIMSELF AGAIN TO RECOVER, BUT I'M PROUD OF THE PROGRESS HE MADE
Michael is not okay. Do they need help?
I don't know their pronouns, and people answered with really disturbing and unhelpful things. Could someone help?
I kinda like Michael. Even if they're blonde.
Unless they're part of the Mikes. I have a bad feeling about the Mikes.
Uhh lots of blood, spiders, worms, death, spooky nights, people being alone, eyes everywhere, insanity, blood sacrifices, the Unknown, and evil books.
Oh, and drugs. Very important, the drugs
Leaving you with that, hope I didn't miss a very important point. May the stars shine in your direction, or whatever.
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loveyourownsmiilee · 10 hours
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You are single handedly making my buddie heart float. I need more of your energy in this fandom because quite frankly the takes I’m seeing is very worrisome. They threw Eddie to the side for a white man version of him and I just want my boys together and happy. Am I the only one who thinks Tommy is a plot device ? 😭 Long live Buddie
Oh that’s so sweet of you to say!!! Like I said, could not and would not be me. Buddie is literally everything to me and we’ve been watching them make this beautiful story. They literally made their love from scratch and the show has consistently shown us time and time again that none of their other romantic relationships work. I have to believe it’s all done for a deliberate reason. And this season, all of Buck’s scenes thus far have included Eddie one way or another. He’s either in the scene with Eddie, fixated on Eddie, or talking about Eddie. It’s all Eddie Eddie Eddie. And if that itself isn’t a dead giveaway to where to story is eventually heading, then idk what it is. Tommy is clearly a plot device and he really is so similar to Eddie in a lot of ways. And I’ve mentioned before how I personally think Buck got his wires crossed and he’s confused about the truth of his own feelings. Tommy is new and shiny and he thinks he’s all that. He did the same thing when he met Eddie and realized how cool he was. It’s paralleling them to a t. Not only that but Maddie’s wording when she was talking to Buck when he came out was very telling bc why did she tell him to talk to Eddie when he’s ready. So I’m just riding this storyline out bc I know it’s all meant to be for a specific reason and I’m certain that Tommy will fly away in his helicopter soonish. We still need to get to Eddie dealing with his religious trauma and opening his eyes to the possibility that maybe he’s queer and he’s always been queer. A nice catalyst would be when he finally sees with his own beautiful brown eyes Buck and Tommy together, whether it’s them dancing or kissing or holding hands. I just know a flip will switch in his head and booom, his life will be flipped upside down. So I’m hanging in there and I just know this entire season has been very Buddie heavy and Tim is an evil genius. I believe it’s all planned and it’s slowly coming together!! But we will preserver and Buddie will be the endgame I know it in my heart 💜
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rpgsandbox · 2 days
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If you’re not familiar with 5E rules, don’t worry! Roleplaying games are about letting your imagination run wild as you create your own characters and stories. The rules provide support for your imagination and structure for your hero, but take a back seat to the FUN play at the table.
For those new to roleplaying games entirely, we are providing Jake’s Shmowzow Guide to Roleplaying Games with every copy of the Core Book exclusively on Kickstarter. It’s a simple guide to get any person started having fun with the Adventure Time RPG. Written by Ray Winninger, co-designer of the DC Heroes RPG and former Executive Producer of Dungeons & Dragons, the guide includes the needed core rules from the 5E OGL, a simple step-by-step explanation of the simple ideas you need to understand to begin play, and finally a walk-through of the character creation process. All guided by Jake!
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Adventure Time has its roots in the older editions of Dungeons & Dragons, with episodes and story arcs that grew from the pastiche fantasy adventure that the second and third editions laid out so beautifully. We believe that the high-quality design of 5E—and its very nature—are well-suited to capturing the open-ended excitement and sense of wonder that are at the core of Adventure Time. If Dungeons & Dragons gave birth to Adventure Time, using 5E for Adventure Time: The Roleplaying Game brings everything full circle and is true to the spirit of the series.
We believe that we can craft and implement the world of Ooo and the features of the Adventure Time RPG best in 5E, empowering you with the feeling that you can be any person you want to be and that anything can happen when you step out your door for adventure!
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But how, exactly, do you explore Ooo? This is a tabletop roleplaying game built using the Dungeons & Dragons rules, basically. In fact, if you are familiar with those rules, you already know all about how to play Adventure Time: The Roleplaying Game.
If you’re not familiar with those rules, you don’t need to worry. Dungeons & Dragons is a game about letting your imagination run wild; it is a game that is played through conversation, is moderated by dice, and takes place in your cranial. As you adventure through the amazing land of Ooo, stuff will happen. There is a player, called the Dungeon Master, who will tell you about that stuff. 
As a brave adventurer, you will want to respond to your Dungeon Master with awesome heroic actions. Your character will have a set of attributes and some skills and powers that provide options for those reactions. But you can respond however a person could respond (if that person was a Wildberry Person, with an axe!). However you respond, you will tell the Dungeon Master what you want to do.
Once you choose your action, it’s time to get mathematical with it. You will roll a twenty-sided die and add a bonus number to it, based on the attribute (or skill or power) that is most applicable to the action. If the total number is high enough to equal or exceed a target set by the Dungeon Master, you will succeed, and the skill or power will dictate the results of that action.
And that's all there is to it! Imagine what the Dungeon Master tells you, have a conversation with the Dungeon Master about what you want to do, and roll a twenty-sided die to see if it works. Three simple steps to exploring (and loving!) the Land of Ooo.
And we’ve got some sweet new mechanics to enhance your awesome RPG experience and fill it with Adventure Time!
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Kickstarter campaign ends: Wed, May 15 2024 8:00 PM BST
Website: [Cryptozoic Entertainment] [facebook] [twitter] [instagram]
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keikakudom · 3 days
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another old note I have about how Alastor & Vox's friendship ended
I think the idea is cute and dramatic that Alastor and Vox's friendship ended after Vox was so lovestruck and got overzealous, confessing to Al, only to get burned. 
But. 
Consider the following:
Vox and Al worked together for decades(give or take 20 years), they're best friends and know exactly how each other operate. Vox knows the reaction Al will give him if he confesses, especially that he wants Al as a romantic partner.
So Vox never does, not for years. He lives off being in Al's  presence and company alone, and is contempt with that. For years. It gets frustrating, and hard to hide that Vox wants to go the extra mile. Alastor, naturally, spots the minute expressions on Vox everyday, and what does he do about it? Well he /teases/ Vox about it! Teases Vox affectionately about how often he flusters, messes up, short circuits, unknowing(or knowingly...) that it's not because Vox is just a silly picture box, incompetent at doing work without help. It's because of Al himself. 
Gradually, Vox gets tired of this treatment. It's like chasing something he will never catch, a fishing line of meat indefinitely dangled infront of a shark. 
And maybe, after all these years - Vox doesn't even love Al with the same capacity at tht point anymore. 
By the time Vox confesses-- it's not out of puppy love. It's an ultimatum. You don't want to love me romantically? I can live with that. But will you atleast be by my side, in work? That you see and want me in any mutual sense possible. That I know the minute you tire of me, that I don't entertain you, everything between us won't be discarded? That worry consumes him the most. We have something to signify we are together. Vox needs something to show for all their friendship. Alastor is content with his say-so alone(something something nature/conception of radio. He IS the source. The originator of info).
So, moment of confession and Alastor --
A) doesnt take Vox's proposal seriously, "you're far too incompetent as a work partner"
B) is offended by Vox, who got too close and Al thinks Vox sees Al as vulnerable enough to need to ally with anyone(Not in weakness, but in capability. Al is very obsessed with his cryptid, detached from humanity, persona).
(Vox would still get all bashful and romantic though. He's just suddenly reminded why it wouldn't work out and why he pressured himself to force this decision after Alastor rejects him).
Either way, Alastor didn't want to appeal to Vox's needs even once. I feel like even in a friendship, there still has to be some sort of sway and compromise here and there, but it was just so suffocatingly one-sided for Vox. Fondness turns to hate, and we all know the story from there.
In their current rivalry status:
- Vox can throw a huge tantrum all he wants, slander and hatepost about Alastor on every big screen in Hell - show everyone that HE HATES THIS FUCKER.
- But in part, Alastor/as the Radio Demon being the (not literally but I feel his personality leans towards radio symbolism) originator/source of information, he is comfortable not caring about their feud because at the end of the day he is confident Vox isn't over him, or will continue to like/love him. 
- That isn't to say Alastor isn't bitter in his own way. He and Vox had a good thing going on but 'oh Vox had to go and ruin that'. So he just expresses that with his own opinions by demeaning Vox's tech and using his own actions to prove that he doesn't need Vox or any of his proprietaries in ANY capacity whatsoever. Very telling. 
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fiveredlights · 23 hours
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Okay I need to know things from literally ALL of the wip’s 😂
But I guess the ones that intrigue me the most are the post AUS2024 fic, the alternate Vegas 2023 story and the lmao daniel retirement fic!!
But like I said, I want to know all things lol! You are like one of my favourite authors ❤️
P.S. please feel no pressure to update, write or anything. Take your time
beth you ask and i will dutifully answer, gonna put everything under the cut because this is a long post 🫡
snippets: ausgp 2024/you're on another path
so fun fact about this one i wrote it post quali, and i had planned to post it after the race was done so i a "pre-wrote" two endings. i wasn't going to because i was gonna be like "oh max will win but something bad might happen to daniel" so i had this ready to go:
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and i was sitting in the grandstand watching max's car explode in the pitlane and all i could think about was "did i do this. again" and honestly who knows.
Daniel’s already lying down face first on the bed when Max makes it back to their hotel room. He’s been doing it a lot recently after races, opening the door to their hotel room and just starfishing on the bed, unmoving until Max gently coaxes him to actually sleep. 
God, if his twenty-something year old self could see him now. 
Yeah, you’re back at the team you started with—no not HRT, that’s gone now, yes the Red Bull—not junior—sister team. The Red Bull seat? Yeah, not yours anymore, and it’s looking like it’s gonna stay that way. No, no podium at your home race, more like qualifying P18 because you were an idiot and drove over track limits. Points? Well, you had a good chance but I guess luck just wasn’t on your side yet again. 
Oh, and that young and upcoming driver from the Netherlands? Yeah, he’s your boyfriend now—surprise, you’re gay! And he’s a three time world champion, but that’s probably not important. 
Any one of those things would’ve sent Daniel into hospital, but all of those things combined? 
Early death. 
snippets: las vegas 2025/bonus fic reimagined
(i'm going to assume you mean las vegas 2025 and i'll give you both)
Max isn’t winning right now. 
He couldn’t really tell you why. 
Plenty of pundits, fans, strangers on the street have stopped him and asked him to dissect why he hasn’t won a championship in the past two years. He gives them a hastily PR trained and approved answer that seems to be more conscious in his mind now than before and cracks a well timed joke he’s sure his teammate would be proud of. 
Then Daniel comes along and will say, “Max already has three, he’s got to leave some for the rest of us!”, and the conversation will usually move on quickly after that. 
He knows that Daniel isn’t the sole reason for his non-winning ways right now, but when the eventual news of their relationship happens to drop, there’ll be dissections for days on if Daniel plays a part in Max’s performance right now. 
The last time Max hadn’t won a championship was when Daniel Ricciardo was with Red Bull, surely there’s some connection there?
snippets: las vegas 2025/don't read the last page
(Max is italics, Daniel is not.)
Max 🩵
July 31, 2025
...
I may have accidentally 
I swear it was an accident 
Like I pinky promise swear to our first born child
Don’t bring Matilda into this
Did you murder someone
What
Why is that your first thing
You are making a big deal out of it
Like bigger than the podcast you did in January
So I have to assume you murdered someone
Okay well it’s not murder but nice to know you think I’m capable of it
Daniel
I forgot to take off my wedding ring and wore it in the paddock and people saw and I got asked about in the press conference 
They definitely thought I was just engaged so I guess that’s just a silver lining
And you have a bet with Lando over when I was going to accidentally do this
Which is rude because I would never do the same to you Maxy
You literally have a bet with Fernando over if I’m going to slip up and say husband in an interview
How do you know that
And he’s Fernando you know you can’t say no to him
Daniel
When you came out you literally posted a photo of me on your Instagram
The whole paddock knows we are married
Half of them went to our wedding
About 85% of fans think we are in a relationship because you keep on teasing them with photos that is definitely me
Is it so bad that we just say yeah we’re married
We are literally about to have a kid
Okay well when you put it like that
I guess you’re right 
I know
I’m always right
snippets: lmao daniel retirement
They asked him if he wanted a big farewell thing, like they had done with Sebastian and Kimi a couple years back. 
He’d almost said no until Lando pulled a face and said “Mate, people’s last memory of you driving can’t be you heading to the pitlane again.” 
So he agreed. Told Blake to tell them to keep it minimal. No standing on giant mockups of his face during the national anthem or whatever. 
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moonspirit · 11 hours
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hello, i’m back, i was just wondering what you think eren said to the others in the paths. we saw armins and mikasas but not the other scouts/warriors. you’re pretty much the only writer on tumblr that doesn’t intimidate me so i asked you 👍 (your wife needs to be tied to a tree)
Hello again behyuu xD But please! Don't fear clouds, she's just a smol smol! Go befriend her!
But this is a really interesting question; I've thought about it a few times, and more along the likes of: "what is the kind of relationship Eren shares with these people?"
(Edit; this became incredibly long 🥲)
I think there are people Eren would and wouldn't have talked to, really. In the latter category falls Levi, imo. But that takes off on another tangent entirely, so for now we'll stick to the rest.
To Reiner, I like to believe Eren would've shown him an alternate reality of what happened in Liberio, perhaps one where he doesn't transform, and instead has a long conversation with him where both of them are offered something akin to "forgiveness" by one another.
These two are parallels to each other in that mutual sense of crippling guilt that came with carrying out the destruction of each other's homelands, not out of hatred, but simply because they needed to do it, in order to achieve something bigger. Reiner, because he wanted to fix his family and become an honorary Marleyan to rid himself of the shame. Eren, because his "peaceful world" for lack of a better word, was turned upside down and trampled upon - though in the end, it was just his selfish and violent nature that set him off on this path. Reiner and Eren understand each other in a way that others don't - neither wanted to do what they did. But they did do it, and that sin will simply be too massive to contain. But Reiner lives despite not wanting to, and Eren dies despite not wanting to, and they are split into two different worlds by the end.
Tl;dr - They talk about how, in another world, where maybe there aren't titans, Eren would've continued to admire Reiner as he did before Trost. And Reiner would cry. End of story.
With Pieck, I hc that the conversation would've been short. Pieck is a very interesting character, imo, because she's literally the most grounded of all the scouts and warriors. She owes no allegiance to Marley, nor Paradis, doesn't have an ulterior motive and is basically stuck watching the doomed world from the ground. There is no solution for her - she as an Eldian will be used by Marley and killed in Paradis - she's literally the only character who understands this from the very beginning. That said, her impression of Eren is, simply put, that of an immature child running riot (incidentally, this is also what Levi probably thinks). If we take into account the fact that her first meeting with Eren was one where she tried to fool him by channelling her (fake) solidarity with Paradis and rejecting her Marleyan upbringing, what lies between these two characters is the anger of being born on different sides of the wall. Eren's actions also resulted in Pieck losing pretty much everybody she knows. As such, I believe what could've transpired between them in the paths, would've been an apology from Eren for destroying Liberio, for killing Udo and Zofia, and telling her maybe, that had these suffocating walls between them never existed, perhaps they would've been peaceful strangers, passing by on the streets now and then.
With Jean and Connie, the conversation would've been very difficult. Sasha. How do you talk about Sasha and forgiveness in the same sentence? So Eren was tortured by his fate, by having to see everything play out as he'd seen it, without any change, and Sasha's death was one of the many terrible consequences - doesn't negate the fact that it still happened only because he "chose" this path. All the people in the 104th truly have an incredibly tight bond - it is what makes it all the more painful knowing that Eren drifted away until he had to be killed by the very same group of people. I like to imagine Jean and Connie beat him up, really. Among the many female characters in SnK, Sasha was someone with an incredibly pure soul - she cared about people and food and fun - and her death was catastrophic. Eren's selfishness caused it, there's no other way to put it. There's also the dynamic between Jean and Eren - that love-hate rivalry that was so sad to see end. And so I want to believe Jean and Connie just keep pummeling him until they're all tired and they stare at the sunset, reminiscing on all the times Eren was a reckless piece of shit.
Falco and Gabi then. The former will honestly carry the guilt of ferrying Mr. Kruger's letters to and fro, during Eren's homeless era. In this respect, I like to think that Eren will tell him not to carry it, to blame it all on him, because he's the one that lied and made him do it. What can possibly be worse than willingly inflicting guilt on a child as young as he once was? Let Eren be cool for once, and offer this reassurance. How Falco deals with it as he grows up, is another story. As for Gabi - the textbook example of brainwashing, she is a splitting image of Eren in so many ways. Eren however, did not allow himself to find the acceptance that Gabi did. And so perhaps what he tells her, is that he's glad. Glad that she joined the alliance to stop him. It's enough that there's one Eren in the world.
Who's left?
Ah. Annie.
This is honestly very interesting to me because, first of all, I just know that the minute Eren opens his mouth in Paths, Annie's knee is going to dislocate his jaw. She has not one iota of sympathy for this pathetic loser causing so much trouble, making her fight when she didn't want to, but because he dragged his dearest friend (and her future husband ffs) into the chaos. He wasn't. Letting. Her. Be. In. Peace. Oh she's going to snap a few bones and put them in a blender, I know it, I know it!
But jokes aside! Annie and Eren are also, a bit similar in some respects. Both are selfish, incredibly so, it's only that their end goals are vastly different in scale. At the same time, they are also both people who care for their loved ones, even if they don't openly show it. They see themselves as monsters, but are loved by the people around them nevertheless. Annie never really had anything like a real childhood, and the concept of having friends was something unnecessary and foreign in her terrible upbringing. I really think that it was only in Paradis that she found comfort, some warmth, what food tastes like when shared with people that treated her more or less the same as anybody else, and so learned to open up (very slightly). But still having a wall around her to keep potential threats at bay and to conserve her energy, it must've felt quite special when Eren appreciated her fighting skills and even took them to heart, making an effort to learn for himself. At a time when she probably prided herself on her strength and fighting prowess alone and nothing else, that could've been incredibly validating.
She didn't hate Eren. She thought of him as a moron, but she didn't hate him. She didn't really hate anybody, the way Eren also never "truly" hated anybody. They were just forced at each other's throats by his choice. We have to remember that Eren also didn't find it easy to accept that Annie was the FT. He did really look up to her and admire her.
I like to think he understood her dedication to sticking to her mission, not as being loyal to Marley, but for a reason more personal (not sure if he could've known about her father, post gaining his future memories..?) and that, that in itself, isn't wrong. Eren's selfishness also stems from an incredibly personal desire after all.
So what would they talk about? Maybe he'd tell her she should continue to be selfish. Because her desires, unlike his own, are harmless. And also drop hints about how his, um, his best friend Armin, is very smart and also very hot and maybe she'd like to... Um... Idk? <3
Whew 🥲
Edit2: I forgot Historia. Idk, considering she'd just given birth and was probably conked out with exhaustion, it's nice to think he'd have just watched her holding her baby, sadly, whispered "You're free" and then disappeared.
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how many times have you watched this scene or are you normal
#my thasmin is like. this little interaction but all the time#obsessed obsessed obsessed with it#the way she falls over the way yaz holds onto her basically the most tightly we like ever see anyone hold onto 13#the way she wipes the sensation of yazs hands off her afterwards#the way shes so out of her mind#the way it's yaz who gets the worst of it bc shes always closest#shes always closest so she gets the ugliest side of the doctor. for her loyalty she gets this#and 13 Wants to give her so much more and she just...Cant#the way yaz knows this and accepts this#the way she knows everything and 13 knows she knows everything without her ever telling her anything bc#she knows yaz has been here. exactly here. right next to her every time. the closest#how could yaz /not/ know everything#she doesnt need to be told. shes seen everything. she may not know the details she may not know the stories. but she knows#'you dont understand ANYTHING' and she just goes 'alright. it's alright'#how many of these scenes have there been that we havent seen? if you ask me........Many#10 months between revolution and flux where it was just them and the doctor was chasing anything division? yeah Many#they barely touch each other too wheni write them#like they touch each other. duh. but it's like. its so tentative always its so careful and this is soooo physical#it has the same force as 'we were worried about you' but it lasts like. 20 entire seconds#i love when they touch each other like that i love when yaz steps over the boundaries#like when i made her beat up 14. feels good feels organic fhkghjg#or any time shes angrydepressed and she makes a pass at the doctor#its like jsut touch me just touch me just touch me for once#like how much time has she spent alone with 13 with no human around not getting any physical contact whatsoever#anyway
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faggotry-enjoyer · 4 months
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oh i'm definitely gonna lose some friends for this one huh
#already got vagueposted about by one former friend as 'comparing pro-palestine sentiments to antisemitism'#direct quote 'israel desperately wants them to believe this is a religious war and not a genocide'#same guy who said 'boy howdy do we know their side of the story' and ten short texts later said verbatim:#'we can't use religion as birthright thats stupid and the Number One Tool of Colonizers'#which is a STAGGERING amount of cognitive dissonance#as if religion is the relevant part and not the literal historical fact of jewish indigineity to eretz israel#mind you at the time of the vaguepost the ONLY thing i said regarding palestine#was that if your 'support' for palestinians includes sharing basic antisemitic dogwhistles and blatantly lying about history#then that 'support' will accomplish nothing for palestinians and only get jews killed#and i feel like looking at that and insisting that i'm comparing all pro-palestinian sentiment to antisemitism is uh. telling#we'll see how this ends up going - i fear it may not be the greatest for my social life but i stand by what i said#bc even if i am wrong about Everything directly surrounding israel and palestine#i was strictly discussing antisemitism in the discourse surrounding it#and a longer version of 'no stance on israel makes you immune to antisemitism and antisemitism runs deep and will affect your thinking on#the matter and refusing to acknowledge that is dangerous' isn't actually dependent on the intracacies of the conflict it's just True#and i'm not gonna back down again i'm not going to downplay antisemitism again i'm not going to give up#i'm not sure if i have jewish friends i simply do not know about who see what i say on there#but if i do then i need it to be clear they have Someone who is willing to fight for them#and if not i still need to make it clear i won't stand for blatant antisemitism no matter whose name it's in#the only thing that would make me consider taking down what i said is if i believed it's counterproductive#and part of me wonders if it is - i don't want to put people on the defense bc that's simply not conducive to good faith discussion#but at the same time i know that a lot of what i've needed to hear was fed up or harsh words#that i started off just reading and keeping my defensiveness inside until they sunk in over time#and maybe my frustration will have that effect for someone#damn i really need to make some jewish friends... maybe after break i'll reach out to hillel or a local shul to ask if they could use a han#or something idk we'll see#personal#faggotry enjoyer original
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gottagobuycheese · 1 year
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there’s got to be a faster way to play this game but How
#not that I don't absolutely love meandering my way around this world and chatting to all the NPCs#but I want to start octopath traveller ii when I still have time and before there are too many spoilers floating around#and I can't DO that when I'm barely even halfway through the first one#at this rate it's going to be years before I finish...#which is fine but like also. I want to Know What Happens#I could do this by just looking up the stories sure but I want to PLAY IT#but I want to play it faster >:(#<- says the person who learned you can fast-travel between taverns somewhere around hour 60 or so yet has refused to do so#‘~60.5 hours for the main game and maaaaaybe 100-ish for completionists’ BUT WHAT ABOUT PEOPLE WHO ARE BAD AT FIGHTING#WHAT ABOUT PEOPLE WHO NEED TO TRAVEL ON FOOT EVERYWHERE BECAUSE THEY'RE TOO WEAK TO MISS OUT ON ANY EXPERIENCE#WHAT ABOUT PEOPLE WHO FORGET WHERE ALL THE HIDDEN CHESTS AND SIDE QUESTS ARE AND HAVE TO RE-FIND THEM EVERY TIME#all these side quests are haunting me...yes this name sounds familiar no I do not know from when or where#good luck finding your lost lover sir#I'm pretty sure I've met her like 4 times but I can't remember where she is#and because I hit A too fast you will no longer tell me her name :/#could I simply look up this information? yes. but I want to bumble around authentically as much as possible like with botw#‘IS THERE A FASTER WAY TO DO THIS!!’ I scream while doing everything as slowly and inefficiently as possible#cheese plays octopath traveller#<- unlikely to be used more than once but Who Knows#I'm glad I actually got to play video games today though even if it didn't quite hit the level of enjoyment i was hoping for#two unexpected days of in a row man I never want to go back to work#but I also don't want to exist in my own head forever doing nothing#I don't want to move forward. but I also don't want to stay here#do you see the Dilemma#anyways time to go train h'aanit on the way back to whoever the heck's chapter 3 I was supposed to be getting to#while training for tressa's chapter 3 that I put on the backburner years ago because the boss was too hard#I LIKE to think our posse is strong enough to take it now but I feel like I keep disproportionately training certain people over others#it's so much harder to keep everyone on relatively equal footing in this game than in pokemon :(#Primrose my first ever companion how I miss thee </3 I'm sorry I so rarely need to use your skills for anything
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inkskinned · 10 months
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so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.
this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.
somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.
i used betterhelp.
i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.
the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.
they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.
the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.
i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."
i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.
the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.
i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.
in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.
the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.
betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.
i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.
there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.
in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.
i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.
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whim-prone-pirate · 1 year
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rian johnson has managed to evade all common ethical problems in his screenwriting and i want everyone to know that the knives out mysteries are a perfect representation of how to write about a certain community respectfully AND simultaneously not make a big deal of how good you are at being a diverse writer.
in knives out and glass onion, both main characters are women who have been wronged by the other main character(s)—in marta's case, she experiences xenophobia from the thrombey's constantly; in andi's, she came up with a billion dollar idea which was stolen by a white man. when she took him to court for it, her entire friend group sided with this man; this directly affects helen after andi's death.
andi and marta's stories specifically represent real experiences for women who are minorities in america, but the stories are told without being too ham-fisted or obvious about it. these aren't stories about racism, xenophobia, and misogyny, they're stories involving racism, xenophobia, and misogyny, which i feel is something you don't often see. they're not triyng to prove a point by telling these stories, they're just stories being told—it's a difference that's hard to describe, but you know it when you see it. it's got less of a looking-into-the-camera-for-emphasis vibe.
alongside this, benoit was never a white/male savior to neither helen nor marta (respectively). he helped helen when she came to him about andi and he stood behind marta when he saw the tox report, but he never took over the case and they were never treated like damsels in distress. in the end, helen and marta took control of their own revenge and benoit nudged everyone else to the side while they did it. benoit is not the hero of these stories, helen and marta are.
this is good fucking writing!!!! i need film bros to be positively insufferable about rian johnson NEOW
edit 12/26/22: i've been told that ana de armas is a white latina. genuinely i did not know, she always looked brown to me and i haven't seen her in anything other than knives out, that's truly my bad. i've updated the post now to change the language about marta, other than that everything remains!
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soaps-mohawk · 3 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 1 - The Introduction
Summary: Captain Price has been fighting the requests to add an omega to his team until those requests become commands. You find yourself traveling half a world away to join a pack of highly trained soldiers to balance out their dynamic. Not all of them are quite so happy about your arrival, but you're a good omega who does as you're told.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, brief moments of panic on the reader's side, scenting, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.
Author's Note: I couldn't help it and I've found myself falling into the Call of Duty brainrot once again so here I am to bless you with some poly 141 a/b/o goodness. It's just part 1, I promise things will get better as the story goes along.
MASTERLIST | Next ->
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“I don’t like this.” 
“Believe me, John, I know. But the higher ups are putting a lot of pressure on us with this initiative and I’ve pushed back as much as I can. They’re convinced it will be good for morale and team dynamics.” 
He wants to protest, but he’s been protesting this idea for three months. “What more can you tell me about her?” 
“Not much that isn’t already in her file.” Her tone is not lost on him. She can, but that’s not a conversation to be held over the phone. “She’s quiet and polite, a bit jumpy but she relaxes once she gets to know you. Remember, I picked her out myself.” 
That doesn’t make him feel any better.
He flips through the file again after he hangs up with Laswell. He almost has it memorized by now, having looked through time and time again since the letter was dropped on his desk three months ago. 
He stares at the photo, the headshot taken by the institute in her file. She’s cute, as most omegas are. American, but she had grown up on military bases. At least this world wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to her. He grimaces as he looks over her DOB below the photo. She’s young, younger than he would have liked, but at least she was old enough to drink. 
He sighs through his nose as he flips through her records. She’s been in the institute for nearly ten years, likely sent as soon as she presented. He flips through page after page of test results, notes from her instructors, personality and temperament analysis, essays and essays worth of information written on her and also by her. He didn’t care so much about what her instructors thought, he was more interested in her. 
“Christ.” He breathes as he pauses on the page with her statistics, rubbing his eyes. The file has everything in it, down to heat tracking and her early signs it was starting. 
As if he doesn’t have enough to worry about, now he’s going to have an omega under his care. 
He hasn’t considered taking an omega in well over a decade. Back when he had been young and reckless, he had once considered starting his own pack, but then his career in the military began to take off and he let that dream go. It became too dangerous, and he had seen many times what happened to omegas who were left behind during deployments for too long. 
His team didn’t need an omega. He had briefly considered it in the beginning as they adjusted to the new dynamics, but he knew it was too dangerous and their schedules were far too unpredictable for the sort of stability omegas needed. He had fought time and time again against the push to add an omega to the team. They had settled into their roles easily, and operated perfectly fine with the missing dynamic. 
Then the Omega Initiative was born and he found himself with no grounds to refuse anymore. Task Force 141 was getting an omega whether they wanted one or not. 
He can’t help the tickle in the back of his mind that something else might be going on. He flips back to the first page, staring at the omega’s photo. They’d be here in a week. She’d be flying with Laswell to London where she’d be given a few days to adjust before they’d fly in here and she’ll be left with her new pack. 
Price closes the file, leaning back in his chair. He has a lot to do in the next week. 
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You stare down at the files laid out on the table. Four of them, hardly more than a single page each, most of which was blacked out. They’re all older than you, their birth years at least visible to you. Most of the things on the file you don’t understand, and you weren't even sure how tall they were since you can’t convert meters to feet in your head. 
You’re tired and on edge, nervous about tomorrow when you'd meet your new pack. You sit back in your seat, letting out a long breath. 
“I know.” Station Chief Laswell, Kate as you had been told to call her, takes the seat across from you. “You’re going to have to get used to hearing the word classified. What they tell you about themselves is, of course, up to them, but the things they do, the places they go, even with your security clearance as high as it is, that will all still be-” 
“Classified?” You finish for her. 
Kate smiles. “Exactly. It’s mostly for your safety. The less you know...” 
The less there is to make you a target. 
You’d been given that speech before you left D.C. You’d been given a lot of briefings, as Kate had called them, since you had been pulled into the director’s office at The Institute and told to pack your bag. You remembered Kate and the interview you had done a few days prior. It hadn’t been any different than the other interviews you’d done before, except that you were chosen this time. 
What had come after was three months of intense briefings and training, for what, you hadn’t really known at the time. They had told you little, at least until last week when Kate pulled you into her office and told you what was happening and why it was happening and where you were going. 
“You don’t have anything to worry about, though.” Kate continues, something you’ve been told over and over again during your briefings. “They’re all good men. John and I know each other well. I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you could handle them.” 
You continue to stare at the files. Two alphas, two betas. It wasn’t an unusual pack, evenly balanced, except for the missing omega. If the situation were different they may have elected to have two omegas to keep the even balance. This wasn’t a normal situation, though. This was a military pack, special forces at that. It wasn’t unusual for packs to form on bases, especially those stationed together for long periods of time. Alphas and betas united together with one purpose, one collective goal. 
That was why so many alphas were drawn to the military. 
That, and the excuse for violence. 
Omegas weren’t allowed to enlist, omegas weren’t allowed to hold many jobs at all. It was usually only in special circumstances, and even then, they were more likely to be assigned into a pack than be allowed to work and care for themselves. In a lot of ways you were lucky. You wouldn’t have to fight to find a pack, fight to find a match, fight for one of the few decent alphas left in the world. Your road had been chosen for you as soon as you presented. 
In a lot of ways, though, things were worse for you. 
“How do you feel?” Kate asks, looking you over. You’ve grown to like the beta Station Chief in the weeks you’ve spent together. 
“Tired.” You run a hand across your face. 
“The time difference will do that to you.” Kate says, giving you a sympathetic look. “Not to mention everything else.” Kate stands, stacking the files and pushing them to the center of the table. “I have a couple more errands to run, so get some rest. I’ll pick us up some dinner on the way back.” 
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You look nervous. 
He can’t blame you. He’d felt a bit of a nervous twist to his stomach this morning as he’d finished ensuring everything was in place. He doesn’t often get nervous anymore, years and years of experience giving him the ability to expect anything and react accordingly. 
This is different, though. This isn’t a soldier he’s greeting, this is an omega. 
His omega. 
As Pack Alpha he had more of a claim to you than anyone else. It was his mark you’d wear, his scent that everyone would notice first. It was his duty to protect you, to ensure you have everything you need. You’re not another member of his team, you’re not even a soldier. You’re just a poor civilian that’s been thrust into this world of danger and secrecy. 
“Captain Price.” Laswell greets him, shaking his hand. 
He greets her back, but he can’t help his gaze as it flickers to the omega. You’re small, as expected of an omega. Your sweatshirt hides most of your curves, but your jeans hug your full thighs. Most omegas are small and soft, designed to be held and healthy enough to bear children when cared for correctly. 
He doesn’t even want to think about that. 
Laswell introduces you, your feet shuffling a bit as you step forward toward him. Coming from an institute, you likely hadn’t had much contact with alphas before now. You try to stand taller, look braver as you stand before him, but he can smell the tangy edge of anxiety surrounding your scent. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say, shaking his hand. It’s small and warm in his, your skin soft and slightly clammy. 
“The pleasure is mine.” He says, releasing your hand. 
You let it drop to your side, pulling your sleeve down over your fingers. You shift on your feet, your body language betraying your nervousness. Hunched shoulders, fingers tugging your sleeves over your hands, shifting your weight foot to foot as if you might take off running at a moment’s notice. Your eyes dart across the airfield taking in the movement around them. You’re on edge, alert, and likely a little overwhelmed. 
“I’ll show you around and let you get settled.” He says, his eyes shifting to Laswell. “You and I have some things to discuss.” 
You follow behind him with Laswell as he leads you towards the building that served as the 141’s home base. He points out different places you might find yourself visiting. The gym, the rec area, the mess hall, and finally their barracks. He leads you down the hallway where their rooms were located, pointing out each door before he gets to yours, sandwiched between his own and Gaz’s, with Soap and Ghost on the other side. 
He opens the door, letting you enter. He stays in the doorway, letting you explore the small space. Your bags had been brought in, the faint hint of the beta Corporal that had brought them in still lingering in the air. There’s four shirts folded neatly on the desk, one from each of them that they’d slept in for the last couple days to give you a chance to get used to their scents. 
“The lads are still running a simulation, but they’ll be done within the hour.” He says, drawing your gaze from the bed. “We’ll let you get settled in and I’ll come get you when they’re ready.” 
“Thank you, sir.” You say.
Laswell steps in as he steps away for a moment, letting the two of you say your goodbyes. You’d likely see Laswell again, and soon, but he knows after three months you’ll have bonded with her just a bit. 
Price leads Laswell to his office after she leaves your room, his ears picking up the sound of the lock clicking into place as they walk away. He’d left it on for a reason, wanting to give you the ability to feel safe and secure as you adjusted, even though you had nothing to worry about. 
“So.” Price says as he sits behind his desk, reclining back in his seat. “What can you really tell me about her?” 
Laswell gives him a knowing look. “The CIA has had their eyes on her for years now. The Omega Initiative as it is now, isn’t how it started. They were going to train omegas as agents, and she was one of the first names on that list. They had FIOT put a hold on her file once she came of age.” 
Federal Institute of Omega Training. The name was stamped on the front of your file. It was the highest rated institute in America, the place where most omegas born to politicians, government workers, and some military went. 
“They had agents go in and pretend to be interested parties just to make it seem like there was interest in her.” Laswell continues. “But, you know omegas aren’t cut out for this kind of work, so they changed the Initiative. She was still at the top of the list, but there were some...hesitations as to where to place her.” 
“What sort of hesitations?” He asks. 
“You saw those scores, John. She’s a good omega. Those purebred instincts are strong, and that makes her an easy target.” 
Most omegas born from an alpha/omega pairing were good at listening to their instincts. That was why they carried such a high standing, even among omegas. But, being so closely intune with their instincts made them more sensitive, more vulnerable. They were more likely to give in to an alpha, if the alpha knew how to play them right. 
Laswell pulls a file from her bag, sliding it across his desk to him. “She’d get walked all over in a larger pack, and the last thing she needs is to get hurt by an overbearing alpha.” There’s something hidden in Laswell’s words, his mind filing that away for later. “I need someone I can trust with her. She’s smart, learns fast. She needs a challenge, but also someone that won’t take advantage of her.” 
“It sounds like you’ve grown rather fond of her.” He says, flipping open the first page of the file. It’s the CIA’s data on her, everything they’d done in the last three months to prepare her for her life as a Special Operations pack omega. 
“Like I said, I’m the one that picked her for your team.” Laswell leans forward against his desk. “She knows what she’s in for. She was well prepared for this kind of life. She’ll let you mark her, no questions asked because that’s what she’s been told to do. She’s obedient, John, almost to a fault.”
“That could be dangerous.” Price says. 
“Yes, it could.” Laswell says. “I’m leaving her in your capable hands. She has my number, and so do you.” 
Price walks her back to the airfield, his head reeling a bit as he replays their conversation over and over. The hidden messages in Laswell’s words aren’t lost on him, and his gut feeling that something else was going on had been correct.
“Take care of her, John.” Laswell says. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you.” 
He hasn’t failed her yet. 
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Your body is tingling. You’re not sure if it’s nerves or something else. You haven’t been around an alpha since the day of your presentation, when you had been pulled from your home and taken to the institute. You had nearly wanted to keel over when you came face to face with Captain Price. Your alpha. He’s a commanding presence, the tickling at the back of your neck still not quite gone even though the door is shut and locked. 
The bed is comfortable, not any worse than what you slept on in the institute. There’s extra pillows and blankets stacked at the end, likely for your nest when you finally settled enough to make one. The door to the private bathroom is cracked open, facing the end of the bed. There’s four shirts on the desk next under the window next to the bathroom door, and your bags are sitting in front of the dresser and closet situated on the opposite wall from the bed.
You push yourself to stand, ignoring the way your legs wobble as you stare down at the four shirts on the desk. They’re all olive green, folded neatly in the exact same way. You wouldn’t have known any different, except for the scents gently wafting from them, and the names on the tags. 
Price. You pick up the one that will be the most familiar, bringing it to your nose. Tobacco smoke, aftershave, something sharp like whiskey. All things you had scented on him in your short time together. Underneath you catch a whiff of his natural scent. Something woody, fresh. A tingle crawls up your spine, prickling in the back of your neck again. You drop the shirt on the desk, taking a step back to breathe in the unscented air for a moment. 
You’re breathing heavily as you go for the shirt next to Price’s. Garrick. You press the shirt against your nose, inhaling. Aftershave, different from Price’s. Some kind of lotion. Coconut oil maybe? You can’t pick up more than the base scent of beta, the soothing almondy scent. 
You take another deep inhale of it, letting the beta scent ease you before you let it drop to the desk beside Price’s. You grab the one next to it, looking at the tag. MacTavish. You lift it to your face, scenting another aftershave. There’s something citrusy mixed in as well, slightly watered down compared to the scent of the aftershave. Again, you can’t pick up more than the scent of beta, letting it ease the tickling on the back of your neck again before you let it drop back on the desk. 
One more to go. 
You pick up the last shirt. Ghost. The faceless one. You bring the shirt to your nose, wincing slightly at the sharp tang of gunpowder and metal, smoke and a lingering aftershave. You try to smell deeper, but your nose burns with scent blocker spray. You let out a huff, dropping it back onto the desk. 
This Ghost was dedicated to his anonymity. 
He’s going to be a problem. 
You sink back onto the bed, eyeing the shirts. Your senses have heightened, picking up the scents wafting off of them, mixing in the air. You pick up the sound of boots approaching, three pairs of feet making their way down the hall. You can hear them talking and laughing as they approach. There’s a pause outside your door and you hold your breath, sitting as still as possible. 
Of course they can smell you. You had sprayed yourself down with scent blockers before you left the hotel, but it had likely worn off by now. Even with the blocker, the scent of unmated omega wasn’t hidden easily. The entire base had probably caught a whiff of your scent by now. Caramel, vanilla, strawberries with the undertone of pure omega that made alphas go insane. 
“Coming, Si?” 
Your lungs burn as you hold your breath, and for a moment you’re afraid your heartbeat might be audible from how hard it’s pounding. Steps recede from your door and you don’t breathe until they’ve disappeared. 
You decide to unpack to keep your mind busy as you wait. You don’t have much, mostly clothes from the institute and toiletries. You don’t even have a photo of your family, that part of your life behind you. You put your clothes away, venturing into the small bathroom to put away your toiletries. There’s towels already inside, along with a few things like shampoo and soap. They’re all scentless, like the things you had brought from the institute. 
Nothing that could dampen your natural scent. 
You almost don’t hear the knock on the door, lost in your own thoughts. You take a steadying breath, hand hesitating over the lock. What if it wasn’t Price? What if it wasn’t anyone from your new pack? 
“Just me.” Price’s voice comes through the door. 
Of course he would notice your hesitation. He’s a trained soldier, he’s always going to be aware of his surroundings. You unlock the door, opening it slowly. 
Price greets you with a small smile, your nose picking up the scent of his aftershave and the lingering scent of tobacco smoke now that you’re attune to it. “They’re ready, if you are.” He says. 
You nod. “Yeah, I guess.” It wasn’t like you had much of a choice to say no. 
You slip out the door, closing it behind you. You’d ditched your sweatshirt, wearing a scoop-necked shirt to give them easy access for the scenting. Price leads you down the hallway, back towards his office. You’re not quite sure what to expect, the nervous twisting in your stomach coming back. 
“I thought we’d do it in a meeting room.” Price says, likely picking up on the change in your scent. “Somewhere neutral.” 
It’s smart, it’ll keep you from getting too overwhelmed by other scents or sounds. The last thing you need to do is panic and send them all into a spiral. Talk about a first impression. 
Price pauses outside a door, looking down at you. His gaze is kind, almost sympathetic as you take a deep breath. “Ready?” 
Not really, but you wouldn’t dare say that. You have to do this, and the sooner you got the awkward part over with, the easier things will get. You nod, hands tugging nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “Yes, sir.” 
Price opens the door, stepping in first. You’re glad for the few moments you’re hidden behind him as the scents in the room slam into you. Alpha and two betas, scents you recognize from their shirts. They stand as Price enters, and for a moment you want to stay hidden behind the alpha but you know you have to be brave. You were made for this. The words drilled into your brain over and over again at the institute flash through your brain. You have one job in life and this is it. 
You can hold power over them. 
The words from the book your bunkmate had smuggled in flash through your mind. “The Powerful Omega”, it had been titled. Authored by a progressive omega, it talked all about how powerful omegas could be, even those forced into traditional roles. You can get them all wrapped around your finger if you wanted to. 
You steady your nerves, clenching your hands into fists at your sides and step out from behind Price. Your skin prickles as three sets of eyes are set on you. Price is speaking but you’re not really listening as you take them in. You recognize the two betas from their files.
Gaz, you pick up Price doing introductions, has kind eyes. He’s tall for a beta, almost the same height as Price. He waves to you, offering you a small smile. 
Soap is the shortest of the four, more what you would expect from a beta. “Good to meet ya, lass.” He greets you, giving you a charming smile. He’s going to push your boundaries, you can tell. 
You’re beginning to see the dynamics already. 
“And Ghost.” Price says, your eyes finally moving to the place you’ve been avoiding since you walked in. 
All hulking muscle, Ghost seems to take up the entire room. Your heart flutters nervously as you meet his dark gaze, his face hidden by a balaclava with a skull painted on the front. His presence is oppressive, tickling the back of your neck. You’re not sure if you want to run or submit to him, every inch of him screaming alpha. 
Price’s hand on your back nearly makes you jump, your gaze finally drawing away from Ghost and back to him. “Come on, take a seat. Tell us about yourself.”  
Price sits at the head of the table, Ghost, Soap and Gaz to his left. You take the seat on the right, staring at the other three members of your pack. You jump into your spiel, things that they already knew if they’d read your file. There’s not much else to tell, since everything about you was in that file. That was its purpose, to make you look as appealing as possible to potential alphas and packs. 
“What about your family?” Soap asks, the sharp scent of your nervous energy spiking for a moment. “Do you still talk to them?” 
You shake your head. “Not for a few years. Institutes don’t really encourage keeping ties with previous packs, but I know there were a few omegas that did. It was hard to keep track of where my family was.” 
“Your father was a Marine, correct?” Price, even though they already know the answer. 
You nod. “Yes, sir.” 
“You lived on base?” He asks. 
You nod again. “Yes, sir. We moved a lot, but we lived in pack housing on every base. We were a family pack, and I was number four of eight by the time I presented.” 
“When did you get sent to the Institute?” He asks, almost regretting answering it. 
It’s a sore subject, he can tell by the change in your face and the slight souring of your scent. “The day after I presented.” You say. 
The tension in the room is palpable, Soap and Gaz’s eyes widening in shock as Ghost's shoulders tense just slightly. Price stares at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. He knew it was likely shortly after, but that soon? Most would wait until the presentation had finished at least, and usually there was some downtime when it came to getting into an institute as well. 
“My father was a traditionalist alpha.” You say, something they also knew by your status. It was printed all over your file, squeezed in every place it could be as a reminder of your worth to whomever was reading it. “It was because we were already on base that they got to me so fast.” You explain. “It was my dad’s status in the Marines that got me into FIOT.” 
“What was it like, in the institute?” Gaz asks, wanting to change the subject a bit, if only to ease the sourness in your scent. 
You huff out a laugh, the corner of your lips lifting in a smile. “Not unlike the military, I think. We had strict schedules we stuck to every day. Everything was dictated for us, what we wore, what we learned, what we did with our free time and how often we got it. Even what we ate was chosen for us. We always had to be ready to be tested at any time, and we were always being observed.” 
“Your test scores were high.” Price remarks. 
You shrug. “I’m a perfect omega, or so my instructors always said. It comes easily to me. I don’t really have to think much about it.” 
“Did you really kneel for two hours straight?” Gaz asks. 
You huff out a laugh. “Yeah. There was one day...it was a couple years ago. I don’t know what caused it but there was something in the air. We were all on edge and worked up. The director got tired of us and made us all kneel in the mess hall during our two hour afternoon break. No cushions, no pillows. Just all forty of us, kneeling on the marble floor for two hours. Not everyone could do it. Quite a few got too fidgety, couldn’t handle the pain. Three even passed out.” 
“How did you manage it?” Gaz asks. 
Price wasn’t a fan of using instinctual habits as punishment. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and he can only imagine what else you could say they forced you to do with such nonchalance. 
“To be honest, I don’t remember most of it. I just let my mind go somewhere else and before I knew it the time was up.” You shrug.
“We won’t make you kneel for two hours.” Price says. “And definitely not without a pillow.” 
You smile softly. “Thank you, sir.” 
Price watches you, the way your eyes dart around the room again, the sour edge of your scent gone, but the tang of anxiety remains. You’ve relaxed some, though, your shoulders are not quite so tense and you’ve stopped picking at your nails. 
Ghost has remained silent the entire time you’ve spoken, eyes glued on you. You’ve tried not to look at him, finding your words get stuck in your throat whenever you meet his gaze. 
He’s going to be a problem. 
“There’s some rules we need to go over before anything else.” Price says. “You have freedom to roam this building as you please, but one of us will escort you if you need to go elsewhere at least until you’ve been marked. There’s other alphas on this base and I don’t want them getting any ideas.” 
You knew well enough omegas frequented the barracks on bases often. You don’t want to be mistaken as one. Even with their scents on you, you know that won’t stop some. You’re not even sure a mark will stop them either. 
“I want full transparency. If something happens you come to me, or you call Kate if we’re gone. If you need anything too, the same order stands.” You’re beginning to detect the edge to his voice, The Captain slipping through his more casual demeanor. “We have some downtime to adjust for now, but sometimes we may leave for weeks at a time. It will be rough, I won’t lie to you, but Kate pulled some strings and there’s an Omega Specialist that’s been brought in for you. You’ll meet her later, I’m sure she wants to do a full workup.” 
You’ve met many Omega Specialists in your time. The beta medical professionals that go through specialized training so they can assist and treat omegas better than regular doctors and medics. Most of them go through a residency at Institutes, studying and practicing on young omegas. The thought of having at least someone who might understand you on a deeper level is comforting. 
“I’m starving, let’s get the scenting over with.” Soap nearly whines, rubbing his stomach. 
His words strike a chord of nervous energy in you again. You had been prepared many times for the scenting. You’d seen instructional videos and done mock practices with your fellow omegas. Yet you feel like it’s not going to be enough. These were real alphas and betas, your pack. What if you don’t like the way they smell? 
What if they don’t like the way you smell? 
“If you’re alright with it?” Price says, looking at you. 
You’re taken aback by the offer for consent. You weren’t expecting it, as this was something you have to do. What would happen if you said no? Would they respect your boundaries? The fact you had been asked at all is shocking to you. You won’t say no, because you’ll have to do it eventually, and at least this way you’ll be walking around smelling like them. If nothing else, it might make this transition a bit easier. 
“Yeah.” You nod, swallowing down your nerves. “I’m okay with it.” 
All five of you stand from the table, your stomach churning with nervous energy. You try to clear your head, try to calm yourself so you don’t stink them out with your anxiety. You need your scent to be clear, to be as tantalizing as possible. 
“Don’t look so worried, lass.” Soap says as they gather around you. “We won’t bite.” He winks at you playfully. 
Your cheeks warm as Price steps up to you. He is right, that would come later. Likely during your first heat when Price would give you his mark and claim you as his. It wasn’t unusual for packs with multiple alphas to let more than one claim an omega, but judging from what you’ve seen of Ghost, you’re not sure that’s going to happen. 
He had a right to claim you too, but from the look of it, he was the least excited about your joining their pack. 
You tense as Price’s hands settle on your waist, lifting you up so you’re seated on the edge of the table, putting you closer to being eye-to-eye with them. They’re all so big, the natural consequence of genetics and their jobs. 
“Ready?” 
You turn to look up at Price, close enough you can see the freckles on his nose and the grey in his blue eyes. You nod, pressing your hands into the table as you bare your neck for him. Your heart is fluttering in your chest as he leans in closer, pressing his face against your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he rubs his face against your scent gland, warm breaths fanning against your skin. 
He pulls away just slightly, baring his own neck to you. You press forward, gripping the edge of the table as you press your face against his throat. You catch the scents you had picked up on his shirt in your room, the surface level scents that were environmental. You close your eyes, inhaling deeper. Woody. Pine? Spruce? It reminds you of a candle your mother used to burn. There’s another scent, the one that lingers. Petrichor, you think, rubbing your face against his scent gland. 
His hand on your side pulls you back from your scent-induced haze, and you force yourself back from him. You take deep breaths of the sterile air in the meeting room, picking up his scent more clearly now as it mixes with the others. 
“Good girl.” He says, squeezing your side gently. Something flutters in your stomach at his praise, some deep primal part of your brain preening at the thought of making your alpha proud. “Ghost.” He says, stepping back from you. 
You’re snapped back into reality as the hulking alpha steps up towards you, moving almost silently. You try to keep yourself calm as he stalks towards you, his sharp gaze burning into yours. 
He’s testing you. 
You won’t satisfy him, holding his gaze as he reaches you, his thighs pressing against your knees. One hand comes to rest next to your hip on the table, his body leaning in towards you. You’re enveloped by the black fabric of his sweatshirt as his other hand reaches up to tug his balaclava up. Stubble tickles your skin as he presses his face against your throat, breathing in deeply. He lets out a quiet sound as he scents you, almost akin to a growl. 
He shifts his weight, pressing his uncovered scent gland against your face. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply. Gunpowder and metal stings your nose again, along with the scent of his body wash. You press deeper into his throat, seeking out his natural scent. Something deep and musky washes over you, like suede or leather. There’s something fresh in there too, almost like eucalyptus. You press your face closer, inhaling it deeply. Your head spins, and you’re sure your knees would have given out if you hadn’t been sitting. 
Something rumbles in Ghost's chest as you scent him in a daze. While all alphas’ scents carried a natural musk, Ghosts seems to shoot directly to some deep part of your brain even Price’s scent hadn’t reached. 
You let out a quiet whine as he’s pulled from you, his mask back in place by the time you pry your eyes open. Ghost is leaning back against the wall, eyes back to their icy stare as he watches you. Your head is still spinning as someone steps up next to you, taking Ghost’s place. 
“How ya doing?” Gaz asks, eyes assessing you. “Hanging in there?” 
You nod, taking a couple deep breaths to try and clear your head. 
“You’re halfway there.” He says, leaning in closer. “Got through the hard part.” 
His breath fans your neck as he leans in, the familiar scent of beta flooding your senses. He was likely doing it on purpose, trying to calm you after the intensity of being scented by two alphas. You breathe in the almondy scent, relaxing into him as he scents you. Your hands raise, gripping his shoulders as he presses his neck close to your face. You seek out the source of the calming scent, pressing your nose into his scent gland. 
You’re drawn from the room and to the time your family took a trip to the beach when your father was stationed in North Carolina. Salty sea air, briney and clean, and something else, something soft. Like the clean linen scented spray your mother used on the laundry. You’re clinging to him, his arms around you as you relax into his scent. The tingling energy that had begun to build up at the proximity to the alphas fades as you melt into the calming energy of the beta in front of you. 
“Easy.” He says, his hand on the back of your head as he pulls you away from him. You take a deep breath, trying to clear your head. “Still with us?” He asks, meeting your gaze. 
“Yeah.” You say, sounding breathless. You knew scenting could be intense, but you hadn’t expected it to feel quite like this. 
“Almost done, hen.” Soap says, taking Gaz’s place in front of you. “Lucky there’s only four of us.”
He’s right, you think as you bear your throat for him. You’re not sure you could have handled it had there been more of them. You already feel like you’re floating, enveloped in so many scents you’re not sure what to do. That tingling has begun at the back of your neck as Soap scents you, your eyes meeting Ghost’s. The look in them has changed, his body poised like he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice. 
Soap pulls back, blocking your view of him as he bears his throat to you. You press your face into his neck, pushing past the scents you knew, and that beta scent, looking for him. 
You inhale deeply, the scent of warm spices invading your nose. It smells like the holidays, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger enveloping you. You can almost taste the apple pie, see the gingerbread houses. You cling to his shirt, holding him against you as you rub your face against his throat. 
You’re trembling just slightly as Soap withdraws from your hold. It’s subtle, but to them, highly aware soldiers, it’s likely clear as day. Your skin is buzzing, like the fluorescent lights above you. You can hear it now, the buzz of electricity. Your pupils are blown, the room suddenly clearer and sharper. 
“There she is.” The low grumble of Price’s voice begins to pull you from your heightened state, your eyes turning to him as his hand cups your cheek. 
You press into the rough palm of his hand, eyes picking up the grey in his beard and hair as he stands in front of you. He’s older than you, they’re all older than you. Older than you, bigger than you, stronger than you. A small tickle of fear begins to itch in the back of your mind, drawing you from your daze. 
You’re vulnerable, entirely vulnerable and incapable of defending yourself against them. Forgetting second genders, they’re all much stronger than you, not to mention trained fighters. You’d be fucked if they decided to try anything, if they wanted to do anything. You’d be entirely helpless against them. 
They could if they wanted to. 
It would be well within their rights. Even though you had just met, even though you bore no claiming mark, there was nothing stopping them. You couldn’t stop them, and no one would help you. 
“You hungry, pup?” 
Price’s voice cuts through your fearful daze. There’s a slight furrow to his brow, likely picking up the sharp edge seeping into your scent. Omega fear and distress was the one defense nature gave to your kind, aside from the omega itself. It’s a putrid scent meant to ward off alphas and betas. You’ve heard it described as smelling like sulfur, burning coals, gasoline, melting plastic, and sometimes even the ozonic scent that accompanied alphas in a true rage. It was a warning, but it doesn't always work. 
Pup. Price called you Pup. 
You haven’t been called “pup” since you were a pup. It’s a commonly used nickname for any status. You remember your father calling your older brothers pup, even after they presented. It could be derogatory, but it’s more commonly used affectionately. He’s trying to ease your discomfort, the fear welling up inside you. 
The door is open, the fresh air of the hallway watering down the heavy mix of scents that had become trapped in the room. Soap and Gaz have already stepped out, Ghosts hulking figure blocking the doorway for a moment as he follows them, leaving you alone with Price for a moment. 
“Alright?” Price asks as your gaze meets his again. 
You nod, still leaning into his touch. “Yeah, ‘s a lot.” 
“I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek, a knowing glint in his eyes. He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but Soap nearly passed out when we scented him.” 
You cover your mouth to stifle your giggle. It wasn’t unusual for scentings to become so intense that the receiver passes out. You’re sure if there had been more than four in your new pack you would have passed out. 
“Come on.” He says, wrapping an arm around your waist to lift you off the table and onto unsteady legs. He doesn’t even grunt with the effort, moving you easily. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s not entirely one of fear. 
His hand is warm on your back as he leads you out of the room, the clean air in the hallway clearing your head further. Most bases have circulating air systems, constantly filtering out scents to keep things as neutral as possible. They’re less effective in smaller areas though, especially after scents were intentionally projected. Most military members wore scent blockers, at least while performing their duties. You remember your father coming home at the end of the day with the dull burn of scent blocker still on his clothes. 
Your head is still spinning a bit as you follow them out of the barracks and towards the mess hall. They seem to almost walk in a formation, though you suppose with years of having it drilled in your head, it’s almost second nature. You’re sandwiched between Soap and Gaz in the middle, Price in front and Ghost bringing up the rear. 
The other personnel on the base give your group a wide berth, and even in the mess you can feel the glances, but none of the stares linger. Price guides you next to him as you get your food, adding things to your tray for you. That tickling feeling starts again at the back of your neck as he makes your plate, your omega preening happily at the knowledge of what he’s doing. 
He’s proving his ability as a provider. 
In more primordial times he might have gone out and hunted for food to bring back to you to prove his capabilities. Even in more modern times, he might have hunted as some alphas still did, or he would have gone to the store to keep the fridge stocked full of food. Alphas are good at adapting to their surroundings and situations. He’s proving his capabilities in the way he can. 
You’re also silently grateful to not have to think too hard about the choices in front of you. Even after a week, British food is still a bit unfamiliar to you. It’s not entirely indiscernible, though, and you’re sure you could pick out things that sounded good if you had to. At this moment, though, with your head still reeling a bit and the unsettling energy of a new place filled with unknown alphas and betas, you’re happy to let Price do it for you. 
He carries your tray and his to a table, sitting you next to him. Gaz takes your other side, Soap and Ghost sitting across from you. The choices in their seating arrangement don’t feel quite so random to you, and you quickly realize the arrangement is similar to the room setup in the barracks. 
A beta for each alpha, you think. Gaz and Price. Soap and Ghost. 
Then there’s you, stuck somewhere in the middle of them. Somehow you’ll fit between them, squeezing into their perfect dynamic. Omegas are supposed to help balance packs, but as you sit with the four members of your new pack, you can’t help but feel like you’re only going to make things more difficult. 
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I'm willing to put together a taglist if people are interested...
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werecreature-addicted · 7 months
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this is really specific but imagine being a Farmer and taking in a Minotaur who was abused and used for fighting. And like he’s bred to be a absolute f**cking tank. im talking like 8’6, scars and muscles, massive strong horns, callused hands etc. Because of the abuse and the fighting he was forced Into all his life he hates all humans, but for some reason he doesn’t want to hurt you. And as the months slowly rolls by he starts to warm up to you to the point he lets you touch him…Just for a little bit though
He is always surprised by your kindness. He's known many humans, and none have ever smiled at him like you do. Or ask him how his day has been. What surprises him most is how you always look him in the eyes when you talk to him. You never bark orders while absentmindedly checking your phone or blatantly examining his muscles while asking him to do labor. You always look him in the eye, or at least you look up. Sometimes it's hard to meet his gaze, especially if the sun is in your eyes and you can't quite make out where his head is. But that little act of respect almost always surprises him. It's almost like you see him as an equal.
You always say please and thank you. Even when he's just doing his job, work is the only reason he's here, yet you act like he's done you a huge favor when he does something as simple as refilling the watering cans. He almost never responds either, He just grunts dismissively. That never seems to bother you. No, nothing as shallow as a bad attitude would darken your sunshine.
It's funny. He's never really "liked" something about a human before. He's respected some of them. He's admired the bravery of the ones stupid enough to step in the ring with him. But he actually likes your positive attitude, and how nice you are... and your smile.
He likes the sunshine. On sunny days when there isn't much work left, you'll often find him lying in the middle of the field, enjoying the sun. He doesn't mind talking about his scars if you want to ask. Though, to be honest. He doesn't remember the details of most of them. It's all the same story anyway. A fight. A lance to the side before the fight to make him mad. A beating after he lost a fight. The individual scars all seem to blur together.
You show him a few of your scars, and you seem to remember the stories better. There's a web of scaring over the back of your hand he's noticed before but never asked about. You tell him you were stringing up a barbed wire fence, and the wire cut your knuckles. It bothers him for some reason. You're so sweet, never having been in a fight, and still you have scars. He doesn't like the idea of you being hurt. He tells you if the fence ever needs repairs he'll do it for you.
You're always careful not to touch him. He flinches if you so much as move too fast, and well... he is an animal, a reactive one at that. You're right to be cautious around him. It doesn't hurt his feelings. He respects you for the space you give him. He does have a sneaking suspicion that you want to touch him.
When he tells you about his past, you'll reach for his hand before pulling away and telling him how sorry you are to hear that. Or when he hands you something, you'll brush your fingers against his, even when you're normally so cautious to not let that happen.
Your eyes land on a piece of hay striking out of his messy hair right by his ear. You point it out but, he can't seem to find it himself. He always just barely misses it. Eventually, he crouches and bows his head low enough for you to reach the top of his head.
"Can you uhm, will you get it for me?" he asks shyly. You nod and easily pull out the hay. you pull away but he stops you.
"Wait- just check for anything else stuck in my hair, please?" he asks. you comply, running your fingers through his hair and checking for any more hay.
He still doesn't like being touched, but it's nice to know that your hands are soft and your touch is as kind and gentle as everything else about you. He wonders if touch could feel good and if you'd be willing to show him.
3K notes · View notes
primalsharkman · 3 months
Text
Petty? Pretty.
Kim Chaewon x M Reader | 🔞 Smut
[Enemies to Lovers, Academic Rivals, Fake Dating]
Word Count: 5,385
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You sighed as you put the pen down at the table. It was your final exam for the year, meaning that all your hard work has officially paid off. The projects you made were certainly extraordinary, definitely leagues apart for the company you were in. However, the pressure of coming in second was like a pump shotgun being shot into the back of your head multiple times. You know, you cannot let Chaewon win again this year.
Of course, Kim Chaewon. The school's greatest academe mind since, ever. Always getting the top grades, the top approval, and all the top boys. The latter which, you really didn't care for. But she had the run of the mill, taking the best with her for her own pleasure. Stories and rumors of her taking the university's quarterback spread around like wildfire. She'd deny it, but everyone knew otherwise.
You roamed around the halls in deep thought, the heavy weight of your books in your hand was very aching, but you were close to dumping them into your locker.
"Finally..." You sighed after arriving at your locker and opening the combination, and only then dumping the books inside.
Vacation was on your mind, but you knew the year isn't over yet. A familiar scent was on your tail, and you knew exactly who wears that specific perfume in your school.
Turning around, you found the academic goddess herself, standing beside you with her bag slinging by her side and giving you a stare. "I hope you did better than you did last year, it was almost too easy for me to beat you." Chaewon said, confidently and with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes at her and crossed your arms, "I've had enough of your gloating, Kim. You're an egomaniac and you really need to get yourself checked before you break down once you see I did better than you."
"Big talk for someone who's only ever beaten me once, in a team debate, no less." Her voice pierced through your heart, and it did hurt. Sure, you did never beat her one on one, but you fought her so hard that you'd get recognized and put in the same conversations as her name did.
"What do you want, Kim? Are you just going to ogle your tits in front of me? Because let's be real, I wouldn't fuck you in a million years." She just chuckled at the statement and gave your crotch a light tap using her wrist.
"Trust me, I wouldn't fuck you in a million years too. But there is something I need." That was when you just smiled at her and closed your locker before walking away from her.
Chaewon panicked and followed your pace, keeping up by your side. "H-hey, I just said I need your help!" You waved her off before she grabbed your wrist and sped up to drag you away from the halls and into an empty area away from the students.
"Listen, I know we've had our differences but this is about prom." At this point was already looking at you like she made up her mind and she will do everything to convince you.
You sighed. "Let me guess, you want me to go with you to the prom?"
"Yes."
"I don't think we should, Chaewon."
"But we could win prom king and queen."
"Does that even matter?"
"If it means beating Yunjin and her very clingy boyfriend, yes."
You just stared into her eyes after that quick exchange, but you knew how insufferable the school couple was. They were everywhere, being flirty and just rubbing it in people's noses. It was a sight.
Pacing around the room and opening a window, it was easy to see that this was an opportunity to get your name trending again. But was it worth it when Chaewon's name is going to be beside yours?
"Okay, but I will dictate the ground rules. You will wear a black dress, you will do the talking, telling people that we got together recently and that you were the first to fall for me." Chaewon just looked at you angrily while the demands were being listed.
"Ugh, fine. I'll pay that price just to stick it to her. Just see how she likes it." She may hate you, but she really doesn't like being upstaged, and unfortunately for Yunjin, she got in the way.
A quick thought entered your mind. "Oh and one more thing," Chaewon turned around. "... You're not allowed to fall in love with me."
She just smiled, "Won't be a problem, I'll see you at my place then. Don't forget to bring flowers. Ciao~" She said as she left the vicinity. You were left standing there with nothing but your bag in hand, and shortly afterwards you went home.
_____________________________________________
The drive to Chaewon's was fast, thanks to the traffic not holding people up. Her apartment was still 3 floors up, so you had to climb up the flgiht of stairs to reach her door and give her a knock.
"God why did I listen to her..." You whisper to yourself while holding a bouquet of flowers in your hand as your cheeks fill with a red blush.
Chaewon opened the door and gave you a judging smirk. "For once, you finally listen to me huh?"
Embarrassed, you just looked away and handed her the flowers, which she gladly took and had a whiff of them. "They're pretty, okay? Don't be too shy, you're acting like this is real." She giggled as she went down the stairs waiting for you.
You opened the door for her, and she went inside without a word. You breathed out a sigh of relief and went back inside the driver's seat and started driving.
It was mostly a silent trip, neither even giving each other exchanging hi's and just humming to the song playing on the radio. It was nerve-wracking for you, as she can just say anything crazy in a second.
But then you heard a sweet and soft voice speak, it was soothing to the ear and yet you know Chaewon is never this soft and sweet. "So, this is it. Time to act flirty, you'll take care of me right?" You just nodded at her, "Just behave like a good girl and we'll win your petty prize." Getting out of the car and you open the door and take her hand before guiding her inside the venue.
The vibe around the prom was magnificent. It was themed as a romantic getaway, with beach designs and a drawing of a sunset as the backdrop for the stage. You can only look around as the people start filling in the place and you stare at Chaewon.
You weren't kidding yourself, she was looking spectacular. She left the flowers in the car but even with just one flower tucked on her ear, just looking at her makes your heart skip a beat.
You found some seats for you and Chaewon to sit in, it was in plain sight so everyone could see that the two of you are in this prom together. You put your arm around Chaewon and she gladly put her hands on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your crotch.
"Dangerous game you're playing here. Be careful not to touch anything." You gulp as you say those words.
You only heard a small chuckle as she whispered, "Try not to get hard okay? We don't want you going in the bathroom leaving me out here don't we?" She sure has her way of being very provocative.
Yunjin and her boyfriend finally showed up, dressed perfectly to compliment each other's styles. Everyone was astounded at their sight, looking like the royal couple, everyone was reminded of who they really are.
The grunt Chaewon releases between her lips was pretty cute, she was angry, but most of all she was very petty. "Okay, time to turn up the heat." Those were the last words you heard before you felt her lips crash into yours.
Her kiss felt like floating in space freely. It felt freeing and wonderful. Next thing you know, you were making out with your rival and the event hasn't even begun. You could get lost in this feeling forever, and you wanted to stay in this moment. Somehow, someway, Kim Chaewon is a perfect match for you. The way she holds you, the way she wraps her hands around you, it is truly something worthwhile.
These thoughts were interrupted by the sound of loud music entering your ears once you realize she let go. "...What the fuck was that for?" was all you can conjure up for your first, and possible the best kiss of your life.
"Gotta show them who's boss. And right now, we have the mental advantage. Everyone's looking at us right now." You did look around to see them whispering and muttering to each other about what they saw, even Yunjin was perplexed when she took her seat nearby.
"If this doesn't end in sex, i'm dropping you off the side of the highway." You claimed jokingly.
"Ha! As if you'd actually want to fuck me."
"With a kiss like that, now I know why all the boys want you."
"Is that a fact?"
"Oh shut up, i'm giving you a genuine compliment." Chaewon smiles after hearing that and gives you another kiss. This time, it's even more passionate. Your pants were starting to tighten and it got really, really heated. You knew you had to get some food to calm yourself down before your primal instincts take over and bend her down the table and fuck her brains out.
Once you broke the kiss, you asked her. "Do you want me to get you a plate or no?"
"Okay, boyfriend. Go get me a plate." She hit your balls again as you stood up and you lightly kicked at her feet before walking towards the catering.
Right now, you didn't give a shit about the deal you made. It doesn't matter whether you win prom king and queen, because pretending to be her partner was already a thin line to walk on, but now that she's being very playful and teasing you to great extent, you might not last the night.
You got her the plate, and you sat back down next to her. Before she could even mutter a word you just dug into the food. Thankfully she didn't say anything and just ate.
Thank god no one bothered you two, just having people pass by and smile or even give a simple wave is enough. Chaewon was a tiger in academics but socially, she is so much worse. There's a reason she doesn't have a clique, or even a best friend. She just preferred studying and going at it alone. Even with projects, you saw firsthand how she asked the professors if she could do it alone. She was granted her wishes, and she's done better than all of them. You were no slouch of course but, you're not insane enough to do group work solo.
"Let's go dance. We need to be as cute as we can." She said as she put down her fork and wiped her lips with a tissue.
"Don't fucking tap my balls again, you stand up first." Chaewon nodded and stood up, waiting for you to join her.
Taking her hand, you guided her to the dance floor and thankfully, the music was set low. There were a few people on the floor including the royal couple but the spotlight was on you. Nobody thought the two best minds in the entire university would be on good terms, let alone dating.
Chaewon did her best to act as subby as possible, knowing that it was her best chance to win those votes. She smiled, giggled at your jokes and even started talking to the other students on the dance floor while you roamed her around in the dance. If this was the Chaewon you saw in school everyday, you might've just fallen for her instantly.
"Hey, look at me for a while would you?" You said as you grabbed her chin and made her face you.
"What do you want? I'm trying to win us some favor here..." She said in a quiet but rage-filled voice.
"Is it so bad for a couple to actually look at each other and talk? Come on, you know better than that."
Chaewon just nodded and looked at you. Your heart melted through every wall you ever put up once she did. How in the hell are you falling for Chaewon? You know how she is. You know every dirty tactic and every move she's done to you. You hated how she tapped your balls everytime she found an opening. You hated the way she liked other boys. You hated it when you found out she was absent for a week due to a fever. You hated missing her. You hated falling for her at every step of the way.
Chaewon yelped when you firmly grabbed her waist, pulled her close and straightened her hair out behind her ear. "If you're gonna kiss me, I'd do it that way too."
You ignored her words and just kissed her. You didn't care if everyone was watching, you didn't care if anyone actually wanted to see it. All you wanted to do was kiss your rival. The rival you desperately tried to hate because you knew she'd never love you. The rival you never asked out because she was too busy studying her tits out. The rival you only ever loved.
As you let the kiss go, Chaewon stared at you for a moment. She immediately let that go and went back to being the same Chaewon you know. For that night, she belonged to you. And you took full advantage of that fact. You ate, you danced, you loved. It was all you could think about for the rest of the night.
It was over soon enough, and you remembered why you were there in the first place. You breathed in heavily and made Chaewon put her arm around your waist as you waited for the announcements. You didn't even listen to the announcement, all you did was feel her touches and let her hear the names she wanted to being called. Next thing you know, you were up there with her, taking a ribbon and a crown. It was pretty funny looking, but seeing Chaewon's face light up is a pretty good sight. You smiled at the crowd and thanked them for the vote.
This was when Chaewon broke free. She let you go and went to the car so she could celebrate her victory. You followed suit and went back in your car.
"Well, i've had my fill of achievements for the day. Take me home." You just nodded and drove. It was a pretty slow night drive. You didn't go over 40, mostly because you just wanted to enjoy her company more.
"That's all you wanted? Seems pretty shallow to go through all that trouble." You said.
"Then I'm shallow. All I care about is that I am on top again." Spoken as softly as she could.
"You do realize we're gonna have to break up during the summer right? I can't fake date you forever."
"Then let's break up."
"Fine."
"Fine." She just crossed her arms and sat on the passenger's seat and stayed quiet.
----------------------------------------------------------
You parked your car in the back, you wanted to clear your head space once you drop her off back at her door but you just stayed in the car first, and so did she.
The crickets chirping made the deafening sound of night feel, not so deafening. You took time to process everything that happened in there, and you looked at Chaewon, who seems to be doing the same thing.
"Hey, can I see your cock?"
"What the fuck, Chaewon?"
"Don't be a fucking pussy about it."
"I'm not in the mood."
"Why not?"
"Because... because I'm not sure if I like you or not."
"What?" Her eyes grew wider as you dropped those words.
"Just... let me think, okay? You were out here all night flirting with me like... it felt real chaewon. It felt real, all of it."
"You don't have to think about it..."
"Oh so now you're trying to restrict my thoughts of you? Don't play games with me Chaewon."
"I'm not!"
"Then why—"
"Just listen to me! You boar-headed dipshit! I like you too! Okay?! Is that enough?!"
You two just looked at each other with your eyebrows furrowed and neither of you were able to land a word after she confessed her feelings to you.
"I like you too. I didn't want to, but I like you! Get that through your thick fucking skull." She said angrily.
It was a lot to process. You both broke the rule of not falling for the other. And now you are at each other's throats because you both were confused and angry that the person both of you were trying to beat at every turn, was someone you actually were into.
If academics didn't mean a thing, you two would probably have hit it off at some point. But unfortunately, that pressure got to you both. For the first time, the weight of that pressure was actually lifted and you could only breathe out a strong, relieving sigh.
"Damn your kisses, Chaewon." You joked.
"Oh boo-hoo." She went for you and kissed you again. This time climbing out of her chair and sitting on your lap. This time, the kiss was different. It was more carnal than romantic. There was more tongue involved as you swing yours with hers and intertwined then as the shared kiss continued.
You grabbed her waist, and slowly reached out those hands into her ass. She gave out a lot moan and adjusted her position so you have full access to her plump, round ass.
She leaned her kisses towards your cheek and towards your ear, where you can hear every small moan and whimper she lets out of her mouth.
The hands you had around her ass were fondling them and enjoying the soft cushions they gave you. Chaewon was already getting wet, but you have yet to know that. You didn't want to go over what she considers her boundaries so you didn't move a muscle.
She felt your cock under her getting bigger and she just looked into your eyes. "Hey... we should take this inside."
You nodded and opened the door so she can climb out. You followed her and locked your car before heading up those dreaded stairs to her door. Once the two of you get there, she immediately opened it with her keys and dragged you inside by your collar.
It only took a shut of the door for her to throw herself at you with another kiss, jumping into your arms so your hands can carry her thighs as she wrapped her legs around you.
"Fuck..." you could only mutter as she rained down heavy kisses on your lips, your ears, and even your neck. It seemed like she knew what she was doing, and for your virgin ass, you went along for the ride.
"Take me to my bed. And take that goddamn suit off already."
"Yes, baby." You dragged your feet through the room and plopped her down the bed. You untied your necktie and threw it across the room. She kneeled on the bed as you stood over her, and she grabbed your polo and unbuttoned each and every single one while giving you the hungriest look a horny woman can give.
It was obvious she was having fun playing this game, and it felt like hell for you. Your cock was twitching in your pants and it started to hurt. She noticed you wincing and took off the polo before unbuckling the belt in your pants.
Her head was dangerously close to your cock and your hand moved itself to brush her hair and hold it down to your crotch, which was her eye-level. She pulled it all down and your cock sprung to hit her nose.
"Ow..." she said as she grabbed the hard cock in her hands, smiling.
"Your hands are pretty nice..."
"It fits your cock really well." She giggled and hummed as she dragged her hand down the length of your cock as you moan out quietly. She knew not to put too much pressure and she knew the perfect way to touch your cock and give you the pleasure your body is used to.
All you could do was grab her hair and turn it into a makeshift ponytail, where she smirked. "You know what it means when a guy does that to a girl right?"
"I think so. Do I get a guess?"
"No. You just get to feel your consequences." Her lips enveloped itself around the head of your cock, and the heat from her mouth makes you hold on the ponytail tighter.
She looks up at you as she takes your cock in painfully slow, licking along the way. You were panicking as the pleasure was getting too much for you, and Chaewon was just getting started. You didn't want to be a 10-second wonder.
She kept working around your cock, drenching it in her spit and sucking it like it was her final project. She's making sure it felt perfect.
Your legs were shaking at this point, your cheeks turning red at the possibility of you not being able to control yourself and not cum in her mouth. These sensations got you to let her hair go and put your hand on the wall nearby so you won't fall down.
Chaewon dragged her mouth down to the last inch of your cock, and tightly pulled out giving your cock a light lick at the end before she sat up and looked at you. "You're gonna cum, aren't you?"
"I'm trying so hard not to." You decided to be honest with her.
She pulled your waist down so you're sitting beside her. She gave you a smile and said, "Cum inside my mouth. I really want to know how nerd tastes." She giggled as she went down on your cock again, not holding out anymore and giving you the most sloppy and disgustingly heavenly blowjob you've ever had.
Her tongue was circling around your length as she bobbed her head up and down. You couldn't even speak due to how good she was sucking your cock. All you could do was grip her sheets and moan out her name again and again.
Her lips kissed your underside, and her free hand gave your balls some love, fondling them. She took your cock inside again and deepthroated every inch you can give her.
She was blushing. She enjoyed sucking cock, especially if that cock belonged to someone she knew on a personal level from many years ago. Sure, it was all on hatred, but she knew you better than anyone, and that turned her on even more.
Your cock was twitching in her mouth, she knew you weren't gonna last longer, so she pumped and sucked and the same time, and that was all it took for you to explode.
"M-ngmhHgh! Chaewon...! mmgh! fuck!" That was the most coherent sentence you can come up with while your body was in ecstacy. Orgasming to the point not even you have reached before.
Her mouth stayed where it was, your cum filling her cheeks as she swallowed each strand of cum, one stroke after another.
When she was done, she sucked your cock to clean it, and wiped her lips off before laughing.
"Nerd doesn't really taste different from jock. But I gotta say, your cock was so much cleaner and doesn't smell as bad."
"That's supposed to make me feel better?"
"Yeah, no one sucks cock better than me."
You sat up and put a hand around her thigh. "So, what's next?"
She smiled as she pushed you down, "You're the first guy to ask for what I want."
You turned your head to look at her and she was taking off her dress, and you were watching her show off her body to you.
You were blushing but the next thing you see was her towering over you, and you get a VIP look of her beautiful pussy. It was shaven, it was perfect, and you wanted a piece.
Your mouth opened and she smiled before lowering herself down to you and sitting down on your face. She grinded slowly as you moved your tongue to eat her pussy out.
Her taste was a new sensation to you. The first time you've ever ate pussy, and you're already getting addicted to her taste. She was sweating and that only added to the tang of her flavor, you dug your tongue deep in her folds.
Your tongue found her hole opening up and you slid it in. "Oh..! Good boy... that's a good boy..." Chaewon muttered while hissing and holding on to your hair.
You closed your eyes and moved you head to tongue fuck her, as she moaned loudly like she had no neighbors. She gripped her bedside and bounced on your tongue as she kept moaning.
"Yes... baby... oh fuck! come on..." She kept hissing and moaning under the sensation of your upper lip kissing her clit and tongue fucking her. You picked up the pace and held on her thighs, taking your tongue out of her hole and focusing on licking the clit fast and good.
"Oh it has been a while! Yes! Don't you dare fucking stop, don't stop, don't stop!" She kept screaming while grinding her pussy on your tongue on her clit. You put more pressure by pushing your tongue into her sensitive clit more and more as she gets brought to the brink of her orgasm.
"I'm gonna cum! Please, don't stop! I'll get off if I want you to stop, okay? Please just... ah! Keep going!" Chaewon says as she reaches her orgasm and grinds on you harder as her moans become more hoarse and heavy.
You kept licking her to destroy her senses and feel an seemingly un-ending orgasm for Chaewon. She got off you and laid down the bed before catching her breath.
"Where... how did you learn... to eat pussy like that?"
"I never did. I only know the clit is the most sensitive part so, I guessed."
"You're a natural then, god damn. Despite being a nerd, that knowledge came in handy. Try using that knowledge to beat me next year okay?"
"What if I beg you to lose for once?"
"That's a price you don't wanna know." She smirked as she recovers.
"More pussy eating?"
"I have a list of demands. I'd rather show them to you before we start school next year."
"Good. But we're not done here Chae." You show her your hardened cock once again, showing her you have recovered from her blowjob.
Chaewon smirks and lifts her ass a little bit. "I want it deep, hard, and fast. None of that slow, methodical, romantic bullshit."
"You got it." You lined yourself up behind her and didn't even hesitate to stroke your cock and slide it deep in her.
"Mmph! Good! Just like that." All Chaewon could do was moan on her pillow as you started picking up the pace and fucking her pussy like your life depended on it.
You grabbed her ass and spanked it, earning a yelp from the girl. She kept asking for more, so you put a strong hold on her hips and crashed your cock deep inside her wet pussy again and again and again.
The sound of your sex was echoing across the room, it was erotic and accompanied with her moans after every thrust, it was truly music to your ears.
"Yes! Your cock is so big inside me! I love every single inCh of it! Mmm!"
Slapping her ass, you kept your mouth open and joined her moaning. "Good god Chaewon, your pussy is so good! So wet and so fucking delicious." You gave her ass another slap.
"Ah! So it is! Fuck I wanna fuck you again and again. Please, make me cum again, make me yours and I won't ever be a bitch around you again!"
"Good girl, I like that." You pulled her arms back into you and grabbed her head so your face is buried in her neck while you fuck her from behind.
"F-Fuck! Rub my clit!" You follow her command and rub her clit in the same pace you're fucking her pussy.
Her moans get even louder and you had to use your hand to cover it up so her neighbors wouldn't get the wrong idea.
Her bed was rocking and it was making a lot of noise. Between the creaking, the moaning, the sloshing sounds the sex was making, it was very hard to hide the fact you were fucking her like a machine.
She kept begging for you to cum inside her and you keep telling her to wait. You were looking for your orgasm but she was ready to unload hers.
"I'm gonna fucking squirt all over! Please I want your cum! I'm gonna fucking... ah!" You pulled out as you felt gushes of water from under her. You held on to her neck as she gripped your arm tightly while she was squirting. Your arm reached down and rubbed her clit so it felt extra pleasureable to her.
"God! I made a mess..." She yelped before you took her body and lied it down on the dry part of the bed and kissed her hard.
You slid your cock back in and fucked her in missionary. Her legs were up in the air as she was moaning in your kiss. The thrusts your cock was giving to her kept sloshing as the rest of her squirt and the never ending wetness of her pussy was lubricating your cock to the point where it looked like cum.
She already came multiple times and she wasn't going to stop, until you did. "What is taking so long?! Mm! My pussy is destroyed here... you need to fill me up, please daddy."
That was the last straw. The final push you needed. Once you heard her say daddy, your senses kicked into overdrive and you fucked her like a machine one more time before unloading your second round of cum in her pussy.
This orgasm hit you like a truck, it felt good, but once it was finished you feel like you have been ran over by a truck. It was tiring and you were drained.
"I guess... daddy is the magic word then." Chaewon giggled as she wrapped her arms around you and pecked your lips.
"I'm sorry I didn't warn you. You must've been so surprised."
"No, actually. I knew you were tightening up when your cock pulsated aggresively. So I expected the creampie sooner."
"God damn it, you're not gonna get pregnant now are you?"
"I'll be okay. I wouldn't have let you fuck if I was in danger of getting pregnant anyway." She giggled again.
"Really? Even after the kissing we've done earlier?" You sound a bit perplexed at this point.
"I'm not an idiot. I'm smarter than you, remember? Don't feel superior just because I called you daddy once."
"I'm just curious, no need to gloat."
She kissed your cheek and chuckled. "I'm okay, you don't need to worry."
You nodded and pulled out her before lying down beside. "So, what now?"
"What about it?" She looked upwards at the ceiling.
"What are we?"
"Right now? I can't say."
"We just told each other we liked each other. What else is there to think about?"
Chaewon playfully hits your arm. "You need to court me, genius."
"Wouldn't you just say yes immediately?"
"I probably would."
You held her hand and kissed it. "So, will you be my girlfriend?"
Chaewon smiles, and turns towards you. "Yes. I'll be your girlfriend."
~FIN~
A/N: That was rough for a first fic, I didn't proof read this so I'm open to suggestions and whatnot. Twitter is the same handle as this one, you know where to find me.
2K notes · View notes
kingconia · 8 months
Text
TWISTED WONDERLAND'S HOUSEWARDENS WITH A READER, WHO IS INSPIRED BY THE PROTAGONIST FROM THEIR STORIES
A/N: I didn't add Kalim or Jamil, because I feel their storyline is too much Aladdin & Jafar inspired already to do anything else with them.
Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️
— That was definitely a dislike from the first sight. He predicted you to be his future reason of headache as soon as the mirror sent you to the Heartslabyul;
— Riddle sees you as an air-headed fool, who only asks too many unnecessary things, daring to question the wishes of the Red Queen, instead of serving to your dorm as a proper student would do;
— You, from the other side, struggle with understanding what makes Riddle hate you so much. You were nothing but kind towards him, always suggesting to eat some sweets together, and trying to ask him to take a break from his studies to hang out with you or others;
— When he overhears that your signature spell makes you others to tell you the truth, Riddle is... Intimidated. He is afraid that you will use is against him, and so, he starts ignoring you more often.
”Housewarden acts like an asshole towards you, though.”
Riddle doesn't even need to think twice to recognise a loud voice of Ace Trappola, another troublemaker in his form. He knows that he should just give him a punishment and leave for a lesson, but instead, he hides in the nearest bush, waiting to hear the rest of the conversation.
”Oh, Ace. You are being rude,” you mutter softly, sighing at your classmate. ”Perhaps, a housewarden doesn't like me, but this feeling is not necessarily mutual.”
Riddle raises his brows in surprise. Why, though? He is aware that his attitude is nothing but awful when it comes to you. He doesn't have a proper reason for that, either.
”You should, really,” Ace rolls his eyes. ”Dude has a problem with you liking white. And what else? Being nice?”
That isn't true. He is fine with you liking white—though, he admittedly got frustrated when you asked him on your first day why painting roses red, if they are prettier when they are white—and being nice. He just considers you too naive for this world.
”I think, you are... Misjudging him.”
That is right, Riddle mutters mentally. Tell him, Y/n.
”I think, the reason why housewarden is so... Let's say, annoyed by me, it is because I am everything he grew up hating and being restricted with. And it is harder, when something you should never be interested in, is nice and interesting. I think, housewarden is just confused.”
He feels his cheeks blushing furiously.
What did you say—
”And I think you are just being delusional,” Ace chuckles, patting your shoulder softly. ”Now, please, let's get out of here. I want to find Deuce.”
Riddle listens to the sound of your rushing steps, but he can't care less about it now. All he can do, is to recite your words, again and again.
Does he really think you as a nice and interesting?
Yes.
Does it make him hate you even more?
No, but he wishes it could work this way.
Until now, though, he merely returns to his studies. Maybe, you can be honest with yourself and everyone, but this kind of thing is not for him at all.
Leona Kingscholar. 💛
— Leona didn't notice you at first. Honestly, never planned too, until you started to cling to him in some idiotic attempts to be... What? Friends?;
— You remind him so much of Cheka, but he actually likes his nephew deep inside. And your presence is absolutely insufferable;
— You are too childish and annoying, and all you do is sway your tail as you try to befriend him, while pretending that you actually like him. Leona knows you have ulterior motives. Stop lying to him!
— He finds it stupid how someone so moronic as you managed to pull out such an interesting signature spell. Manipulating dreams of others? How cruel.
”Stop doing that,” Leona hisses, digging in your wrist as you try to touch his hair. ”I am seriously going to kill you, if you keep doing this. Do you hear that?!
A few weeks ago—approximately since you figured out your magic—Leona started saw dreams. Very colourful ones, cheerful even. And each, with the same meaning: he becomes the king, and his family and people adores him.
He hates it.
And he hates you for doing that.
Because, of course, he doesn't need your fucking pity. Your condescension. Your gifts. He doesn't need to be mocked!
”Ah? Leona-sama, what is it?” You blink, confused.
”What is your problem, huh?” He hastily jumps on his legs, towering on you. ”Don't you have anything to do? Go and mind your business, brat!”
Your lostness shifts in sadness. You are not scared of him, you are never are—another proof that you don't take him seriously—but you dare to look at him like that. As a kicked puppy.
”What did I do?”
”Stop sending me these stupid dreams! I don't need your pity, do you hear me?!” He yells, still gripping your wrist tightly. ”Go and dream of your family or something, instead, would you?”
”I... I am sorry,” you mumble, and your eyes dart on the floor.
Leona closes his mouth, when realisation dawns on him. You don't have a family to dream about; you are an orphan. Yours, the previous crown family, were killed by his great predecessors.
He doesn't know why he feels bad, when you picked the fight first.
”I will never bother you again, Leona-sama. I apologise.“ You repeat, and your voice suddenly sounds numb.
That is not the sight of you he, or anyone else, was used to. Not a single emotion on your face. You just snatch your wrist from his hold, before leaving him alone as he asked to.
”You are such a jerk,” Ruggie whistles from behind, appearing almost from nowhere.
”Shut up.”
”You know that they can't send any control dreams, right?” He continues, hands on his hips.
”What?” Leona unwillingly turns head on his vice.
”Dunno, but they only can adjust if it is going to be nightmare or a good dream,” Ruggie yawns. ”They are just a first-year, so... It is your brain that decides where is where for now.”
Fuck.
Leona hisses furiously.
He is so fucked up.
Azul Ashengrotto. 🩵
— Oh, so this is love? He notices you in the crowd of other students, as you flinch from loud voices from dynamics, clearly knowing very little of this world, and he is amused. Someone is clearly more social awkward than he is;
— Azul thinks you don't like him that much, though, because you only wave at him, and when he once tried to speak, you merely nodded and smile all the time without answering him properly;
— It is until twins tell him that you don't have a voice. You were brought to this world completely mute, because of the family curse, and though you hear everything, your only way to communicate with others is writing. Or a sign language;
— But if anything gods blessed you is your magic. Everything you touch turns to gold, and that is actually the main reason why you were kept isolated over years. Azul is over heels for you now...
”I am glad that you took time to accept my invitation, Y/n.”
Azul locks his hands together, looking at you with unhidden excitement. He is always too nervous in your company—luckily, you can't read a room—but today is a special day.
You smile at him, instead of answering.
”The reason why I asked you to came here, it is because I have a deal for you,” he continues carefully, weighing his every word. ”Do you see that?”
He points with his finger at the middle of the table. There is very beautiful necklace with pearls and a little seashell, looking quite normal and mundane. You nod again.
”That is something that could break your curse,” he explains, enjoying the way your eyes widen in the poor shock. ”Yes, yes, you heard me right. With that, you could speak easily.”
Azul can't help but soften as you tear up instantly. There is a whole minute, when he fights an urge to give it to you for free, but... He built his reputation too long to break it so easily.
”But, of course, I will need something from you in return.”
You tilt your head in question.
”I...”
I need you to love me.
”...I need you to use your power for my business when it will be required.”
And with that, Azul quickly shoves another contract to you. You blink a few times, but there is no back thoughts in your head. Quickly, as if afraid that he will change his mind, you took the pen, and leave your signature on all places, where it was needed.
Ah... Angelwish, why are you so naive! It kills him! What if he tried to use you? You didn't even read a contract! You really should be glad that Azul loves you so much.
Before he realises that, you are already putting a necklace on yourself.
One second, two. Three.
You are staring at him.
”Well?” He asks, anxiously.
”A... Azul?”
His heart drops.
Your voice is amazing. And hearing you saying his name is even better than he expected. He blushes.
”Azul... Thank you?”
”S-sure.”
Seems, like it is his turn to be speechless...
Vil Schoenheit. 💜
— He originally had nothing against you... Until other students didn't start to call you the most beautiful person in the world, following you everywhere obsessively, and suggesting you to become the next housewarden;
— Vil now officially hates you. Each time you come to him ends up with short anger impulses that he hardly hides from you, and he wishes you could just disappear;
— He is quite... Cruel with you. He wants you to change your dorm, actually, so he desperately pushes you to the edge by giving you impossible tasks to fullfil, and turning others against you;
— And he thinks your signature spell, speaking and controlling animals is another proof that you should leave Pomefiore for Savanaclaw.
“I don't think you are stupid, un petit entraîneur.”
Vil narrows his eyes, leaning slightly forward from his balcony. The sight of his vice speaking with you—hunter's interest in you was his another concern—annoys him instantly.
”What do you mean, Rook?” There is a big cat in your lap, clearly another of your minions.
”You know that our dear housewarden wants you out of here,” he murmurs, moving closer to you. ”A fair exchange with Savanaclaw, I would say. He doesn't like you here.”
You sigh.
”I figured it out, trust me. He made it very clear by always putting me in dangerous situations and giving me outdated products for skin, making me look like a fool in front of others.”
You don't mention how he makes you clean dark and messy rooms of other students.
”Yet, you are not willing to give up?” Rook touches the strand of your hair curiously.
”You know, I actually liked him a lot,” you admit suddenly, patting the cat behind its ear. ”Vil was the world for me. I was so amazed by him. By how collected he was, how hard he worked. I was excited to become his student... I wished to show him what he is worthy of. That others see his hard work.”
Vil's breath hitches. He remembers you mentioning that you were his fan, but he punished you for this remark; he didn't need to be so violently degraded. But... Was it a truth, then?
”...It is in the past now. I witnessed his true colours, and I will not tolerate it,” your smile twists in something more vicious, a ghostly fondness leaving your pretty face. ”He doesn't need to be scared of me being better anymore. Because I am going to be so much worse.”
He shudders as he hears that, your voice cold, and eyes gleaming dangerously. And as if Rook addresses him, he sighs suddenly, with the strange excitement in his voice:
”Oh, mon doux karma. What had you done?”
Idia Shroud. 💙
— From the minute you open your mouth in his presence , Idia knows he will hate you desperately... It is not serious, though;
— You are unbelievably loud, and too cheerful, and too proud, and you are so self-centred? Also, a fucking bimbo. Idia has no idea why everyone so into you, and what you are even doing in Ignihyde! Go away!
— You annoy him so much, and he actually hates the way you try to befriend him and make him more normie! Stop be like that! You are not welcome!
— Idia is absolutely not impressed that your signature spell is an instant tactics creation. Fuck you, by the way.
“You do know, that doors exist, right?” Idia hisses, not even stopping his game to spare you some attention.
”I do!” You say, climbing through the window with a loud thud.
”Then, why don't you use them, idiot?!”
Idia has no the slightest idea why anyone, let alone you of all people—he means, since you genuinely think that it is healthy to spend all your time outside of the room—would want to become his friend. But here you are. Trying to befriend him for a month already.
”Because you never open the door, Idia-sama,” you shrug easily.
”Take a hint, maybe.”
You close the window behind yourself, taking place behind his chair. Putting elbows on it, you hum thoughtfully, glancing from Idia to the screen of the computer, where the game flashes on. Another few minutes, and familiar yelps fill the room:
”Shit!”
Game over.
”Idia-sama,” you frown, ”maybe, I can help you?”
Idia snickers, rubbing his tired eyes. As if.
”Have you ever played this game, even?”
”No,” you murmur shyly, scratching the back of your neck. ”But I am good at tactics. And it is combat game, correct?”
Idia ponders for a while. That is surprising, because... You are actually absolutely correct. For once.
”Sit down, first year,” Idia exclaims, suddenly excited. ”I am going to teach you how to play this game.”
You smile widely, doing as it was told.
Finally, you cracked the code! And they said you weren't for this dorm...
Malleus Draconia. 💚
— Of course, he missed you as the new student at first, since he forgot to arrive at the orientation day. But it is not that long as he starts hearing others praising you, Lilia especially;
— You are quickly becoming the part of the school life as everyone loves you, and calling you ’the heart of the school’. And while Malleus wants to befriend you, too... He also can't help but feel envious of how easy it is for you. The socialization;
— You are quick to fall asleep everywhere, much like Silver. And since Malleus can't find courage to speak to you, he wanders around, when you are asleep at the strangest places, instead;
— When the first overblot incident happens, your signature spell kicks in. To everyone's horror, it is absolutely terrifying. Your magic is about thorns. Thorns, that wrap around Riddle's weakened body, when he touches you. He almost dies. And the same thing happens with Ace, who accidentally brushes your skin. Now... Everyone shun you away.
”Hello, Malleus-sama,” you mutter, eyes sleepy as you look around. ”I apologise.”
Malleus doesn't quite mind you falling asleep in the class, where his gargoyle's researches are going currently. He is the only member, anyway. But he nods.
”I had never seen you here before,” he notices in a poor attempt of the small talk.
You shrug.
”There is no other students here. And it is better for me not to show up around them.”
What a familiar thinking process... Somehow, he finds it easier: to approach you know, when you are not everyone's favourite anymore.
”I see. You can stay, then. I am not welcomed by them either, so no one is going to enter this classroom.”
You offer him a smile. It is short, strained at the edges, but still sweet. Malleus thinks he understands how you so easily charmed others in the last months; you are much like sunshine, when you are happy. It is a shame you are not, anymore.
”You know, Malleus-sama, I always wanted to become your friend,” you admit suddenly, making him open his eyes in surprise. ”And, I think, you wanted to be mine friend, too.”
You? Why would someone like you want to have him as your friend?
”And why would you think that?”
You fold arms on your chest slowly.
”You are always here, when I am sleeping,” Malleus feels blush touching the tips of his pointy ears. You elaborate. ”I am not sure people realise, but I sleep too much not only because I am lazy, but also because I feel surroundings better like this. I remember everything I hear in my sleep, and I do feel if someone is around.”
Ah. So, that is the secret of yours. And he wondered how you master in all your classes, when you sleep all the time...
”...I see,” Malleus mutters, ashamed. ”I apologise, then.”
He reminiscences of how often he whispered you some nonsense when you slept—childish complaints about how he hates you for being so easily loved by others, random poems that came to his mind as he sat down by your side, stories from his childhood—and feels like disappearing in the shame wouldn't be that bad.
”You know, Malleus-sama, you and I... We are not so different. We both do what we have to do to keep our loved ones to ourselves,” you sit down on the couch beside him slowly. ”But it leads only to one thing.”
Malleus gazes at you curiously as you suddenly curl on his lap, much like a cat. Your eyes met as he helps you to settle more comfortably.
”To destiny?” He asks aloud, tilting his head.
”To pain.”
There is a beat of silence in which your smile suddenly appears to be more bitter, less serene. Malleus doesn't know what happened with you in details, and how awfully these changes in your reputation affected on you, but he can say that it was hard.
”Now, if you don't mind, and I believe, you don't, Malleus-sama, I would like to dream a little bit.” You warn him, already closing your eyes, not really waiting for the answer.
Still, Malleus nods. Though that is not something you can see.
”Sleep, then... Beastie,” he sighs, patting your hair gently.
You snicker, before your breath slows down, alarming that you completely drifted off.
Malleus stares at you openly now.
Ah, who would've thought? He had finally made a friend.
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Part two with Leona & Vil is here.
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