Stars Apart Masterlist
in collaboration with @kattsmuse
John meets the woman of his dreams... but she has no desire for a relationship, just a sperm donor. He's trying to change the mind of this familiar stranger who's far too young for him... If only he could place where he knows her from.
Warnings: Mild Manipulation, smut, daddy issues, some very mild dubcon (she's into it), age-gap, minor character death, review of childhood abuse, neglect, mentions of cancer throughout, breeding kink, future pregnancy and pregnancy issues
Concept: Celebrating Christmas with your boyfriend Johnny. The holidays always seemed so hectic to you but you loved it. You had a very Midwest Christmas and he never once complained about it. But this year, he asked you to come home to Scotland with him for the holidays and meet his family.
@kattsmuse, I'm so sorry! I've had this request in my ask box for months and when I tried to save this in my drafts to work on it, the ask blooped outta existance, I'm fucking crying. Know you've been super anxious this week so I'm dusting this off while Storm be napping.
MDNI +18
Got away from me a bit.....
Warnings: Smut, Dub-con, reader has option to leave but does not, dead dove, angry Johnny, angry reader, AFAB!Reader, Oral(male receiving), vaginal sex, no prep, hate sex (kinda), youβre his HR representative, degrading, no protection, pussy slapping, squirting, creampie. PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANY IMPORTANT TAGS!!!!
You are on the warpath the second you hear about the incoming plane. Johnny won't even know what hit him, you think with a degree of malicious pride.
The second he spots your approach with flaming eyes, he huffs. "Don' start with yer naggin', woman." He grunts before you can even get in a ten foot radius.
"Oh, you can bet your stupid non-regulation mohawk that I'm going to nag you, MacTavish! You left for deployment again without filing your-"
His nostrils flare as Price cuts you off, brushing in a little too close like he has a habit. A habit that always commands attention as he leans into your eyes. "I'd let him cool off a little before you start into him, love."
You'd heard warnings before about Johnny's temper, but the truth is you doubt them. Johnny is a sweetheart on a good day in your experience, a brat on a bad one. That you could handle.
"All respect, Captain, but this is about his work. I don't care if he's got the fastest time on the courses or the best sniper score. My job is to make sure the boring shit gets done too!" HR wasn't for the weak.
You'd already dabbled the line enough with the time you spent with Johnny for eyebrows in your department to be raised. A question on if you were sleeping with him had been brought up a time or two. Allegations you didn't need at the moment. Not even if Johnny was the one you thought about with your hand between your thighs late at night.
Johnny tries to flee the tarmac, but even in your heels you chase after him. He spits something over his shoulder at you in Gaelic.
"I don't know what you said, and I don't care-" You promise as you practically run in your little heels to keep up, "- I had to cover your A2-30 forms, Johnny! I went to your desk, and they didn't even have your name on them! I left them there two weeks before you deployed!"
"Bugger off!" He snaps over his shoulder, and you bristle at the cold fury that lies in those icy eyes. He pushes into the building that the 141 usually operates out of. You follow, noticing that the others are abandoning ship with muttering between each other.
"No, do you even understand what happens when you don't file your paperwork, Johnny? Do you? I get my ass chewed out over that shit! I don't have time to chase you around all day to get this simple shit done!"
"Then why the fuck are you chasing me down? You just enjoy badgering me like a bitch of a wife?" You reel at that.
"Excuse me?" You demand as he scatters the remaining soldiers in this building. They bolt the moment they hear his booming voice. Gone is the quiet rumble he normal gives you. His eyes wild, teeth bared.
Your heart pounds as he rounds on you, like a mouse caught by a snake. He's so close you can feel the heat of his breath over your face as he snarls.
"Shut. The. Hell. Up."
It's out of left field. Granted you had provoked him. The part of you that wanted to know is now ready to retreat. The logically part of your brain cooing that maybe you should back off.
Unfortunately, the angry part of you rears up instead when he presses away, heading back towards the towards the break room in the back. You press after him, even as he parts everyone away from him and his fury. Partially out of your own need to prove that you can handle anything, partially out of malice forming in the wake of his harsh reaction. Normally, he spoke sweet and cool. Not today. Not now.Β
You have to hold back from calling him names, especially considering you might write him up for his own words already. βAre you fucking kidding me!β You snap when he storms away and your brain finally catches up. You make your next fatal mistake by following him. Pushing into an empty rec room where the first thing he does is beeline to the fridge to snatch a beer out of it of all things! βJohnny! What is the matter with you!? I have three things already I should be writing you up-βΒ
The gasp that leaves you when he snatches you with his free hand is half pained, half shocked. Heβs still wearing leather gloves that catch your hair wrong where he grips it in his palm. It does hurt. Johnny cranes your head back with ease you canβt fight, instead you just grimace and writhe, arching with it to ease the sting of your scalp under a hold thatβs far from gentle. Far from the Johnny you know.Β
You should see him in the field, heβll give you nightmares, Kyleβs words flitter through your mind as you're contorted to view the empty fury of Johnnyβs eyes.Β
βJohnny!β You squeak in breathless disbelief as his lip unfurls from his lip like the snarling maw of an angry dog. βOw, youβre hurting me-β
βOh, am I?β He mocks, clearly aware of what heβs doing. It sinks your gut like a stone in water. You start trying to squirm when you realize whatβs happening. βI told you to shut up. But you donβt fuckinβ know when to quit.β His words grate the lowest chords of his voice, grinding out gravel.Β
βGet off!β You plead, a little more desperate as he swigs his beer, not blinking, not even breaking eye contact from you. Vision blurry, you blink up at him with terror and something else bubbling low in your belly. A match struck between your legs with fear curling around your heart. The sudden violence from him has you shaking in your heels.
He takes a moment, dragging out the stillness in the air.
In all the moments youβd spent in your bed at night, never had you imagined him like this. No, he was soft and sweet between your legs. Chuckling at the silly things you said, teasing you how he normally does. Youβre making him pant with needβ¦ This version of him was soured with whatever rot had crawled forth from his psyche.
βGet on your knees,β he decides finally, after licking the beer off his lips.Β
βWha-β
βI said, on your fuckinβ knees. Move, before I put you there.βΒ
You drop to them before the final word leaves his mouth. Too scared, mind too blurred, too eager to appease the storm of his anger crawling up. You no longer want to challenge. You want to coax him back into the calm lapping waves. Terror is climbing up your throat as the cold tile below meets your knees a little too hard with how he βguidesβ you. Hand still tangled in the claw clip youβd used this morning, digging it into your skull as he pushes down. You land hard enough to know your knees will bruise.Β
βJohn-β A thumb hooks into your mouth prying your jaw down, the beer in his hand bumping over your cheek with frigid condensation.Β
βIf you want to use that mouth so bad, then fine.β Your eyes widen as tears begin to spill over them when he easily works his belt open after yanking the claw clip out of your hair.Β
βNo,β you bemoan quietly around his thumb. βI work in HR, this is a bad-β
βThatβs not going to work for ye,β he rumbles lowly, unphased as he pops the button on his fatigues, then drags the zipper down. Itβs been long enough since he showered that you can smell him. Sweat and musk roll out of his pants as he ducks that hand into his fatigues to draw out his cock. Itβs hard to protest when his thumb is pinning your tongue behind your teeth. You know that you really should be trying to escape him. That you should be running and screaming from the room... biting him. But when the fantasy of him becomes reality, itβs harder than you expect it to be.
His cock is not fully hard. It still doesnβt have a truly rigid form. It dangles, longer than soft, softer than hard. Tip flushing pink already, the appendage stems from where dark curls cushion his pelvis.Β
βIβm gonna give ye one shot at this,β he snaps. βYou either get up silent and leave, or I shut you up.β Your eyes havenβt broken away from where heβs stirring to life. Stomach full of knots and too empty all at once.Β
He releases your chin, cheek frigid as his beer leaves your skin.
And then you are left with a wild choice. If you get up now, leave, it would be mostly unscathed. A hard flick to your forehead has you tilting back to look up at him. He tilts his head, eyes still cold. Heβs completely unaffected by his actions. Capable of doing this from the start, you realize. Unhinged. Screws loose and rattling inside that head.Β
βStaying?β He demands.
You gulp at him, eyes flickering to the door as you considerβ¦Β
βJohnny, Iβm literally your HR representative-β
βFuck,β he hisses, expression crumbling with disgusted irritation. All at once his thumb rehinges in your jaw. You squeal, but itβs cut off as he plops the soft appendage into your mouth, even soft itβs big enough to mostly silence you. His eyes roll back when you try to push your tongue against it in hopes that his dick will pop out of your mouth but he rolls his hips forward and you find yourself face first in his bush.Β
Your hands flutter at his thighs, finding purchase on one side at his thigh holster on his leg. Wanting to push him away and pull him closer as the salt of sweat and cock fills your mouth. A little too potent to be quite enjoyable. Holding onto something helps as you feel the soft cock in your mouth hardening, creeping towards the back of your throat. Johnny shudders with a softer groan of your name.Β
Your eyes flutter up at him, tears still falling as he begins to rock himself into your mouth, just as heβs beginning to brush the front of your throat. It doesnβt take longer than a few thrust for you to be gagging at his growing length. One that the sound has to come out of your nose. βAh, thatβs itβ¦β He murmurs.Β
You brace as he finds a slow pattern to stimulate your gag reflex, dragging his cock back and forth inside your mouth. βGo on, ye whore, suck it.β Itβs impossible to do as the head of his cock begins to cushion the blows at the back of your throat. You try and it only results in you sputtering on coughs around him.Β
Johnny heaves a sigh at that, tutting his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "I'm no' dealing with this gaggin' shite. Get up." Your eyes blur the image of him when you look up. "On the couch."
"Wha-" You try to sputter out but it's cut off when you attempt. His gloved hands snatch you up by the arms hard and you sob a little as he drags you himself over the back of the couch. Your feet kicking for purchase as he drags you over tile. "Joh-Johnny, please can we talk-"
"What part of shut up are ye not fuckin' getting?" It's gutting the way the hard back to the sofa digs into your, abdomen.
"No! Johnny, stop! Not like this!" You sob.
He snarls like damn animal and you cry out as he drags you back up by your hair. "No? How ye want it then, hen?" You can feel his teeth against your ear, hot breath dampening the skin there. "Cause you're takin' it somehow."
It's hard to swallow with your head tilted back like this. "W...wanna kiss you..." you manage feather soft, broken.
The leather creaks, the only sound other than your panting. His grip actually loosening a hair. "Still gaggin' for it..." He finally mutters and then in a blur you're being launched over the couch. He complains about how noisy you are after you shriek. The grip on your ankle flips you all too easily and he's climbing over you forcing your hips wide enough they ache, tearing at your pencil skirt until he's got unfettered access to you.
Your panties are snatched down your legs and shoved into his pocket. A part of you wonders how in the hell you'll make it off base like this now, but it's the least of your problems when he's aligning his thick cock with you. "Can't we-"
He snarls and his mouth descends on you. Once again, Johnny has an appendaged halfway down your throat only this time it's his drooling tongue. Mouth jammed between your teeth, his own head cocked almost sideways to cram the slippery muscle in as far as it can go.
He laps at your molars and groans at your shameless moaning, muffled into his mouth.
It hurts though when he pushes in without prep. Burns at how long it's been since anything has split you open. While you sob and shriek into his mouth he shutters and groans so loud it makes you tighten even further.
"Fuck!" He snarls, barely able to rock his hips. And when you claw down his back at the burning stretch of your cunt he shudders. Johnny drops into the cradle of your neck while you cry. "Fucking harder," he demands, jolting his hips forward and back, hiss at his own pain.
It doesn't last long; you're flooding him with arousal as is. Despite how fucked up this is, you're devouring it. When he pulls back those eyes are desperate instead of empty. That alone floods all sense of right and wrong from you.
His hips canter faster and faster as you dig your nails in without abandon. His back, his arms, his neck and scalp. He seems to feed on the pain you're causing him, utterly masochistic.
When the pain becomes pleasure for you, it's overwhelming. His coarse bush rubbing against your clit, cock stretching and striking its spongey tip deep into a spot you can barely reach on your own. You can't stop your desperate yowling, clawing him closer, sharp heel spurring into his spine.
"Please! Oh, fuck, Johnny! Please-"
"Gonna put this in yer fuckin' report? Sergeant MacTavish gave it to me so good I- OH! FUCK!"
He doesn't get to finish because you are. Wailing like a banshee as his arms snap to your waist. It's his grappling point as all your muscles push hard enough, he thinks his cock will break. He eats your sobs of pain-pleasure, delving his tongue in.
He gives his own broken whimpering, jamming and holding himself against you in this war, desperate to cum against your cervix even if your body is fighting involuntarily to push him out.
It's the high that has you shuddering below him, legs trembling from the come down. Adrenaline shivers over both of you.
You sob a little more when Johnny starts giving little humps like a dog that's humping its favorite pillow, hissing with his own overstimulation.
"Johnny, fuck off!" You manage weakly.
His chuckle flutters over you as he finally draws back enough for you to see the hazy look in his eyes.
"Yer fuckin' beautiful," he grins at the make smeared down your face. Then he leans in and you think he's going to kiss you, but his tongue drags up your cheek.
"UGH! Johnny!"
"Take ye tae dinner," he laughs in your ear, anger evidently syphoned now, "Then I'll eat ye until ye've squirted on mah tongue instead of mah cock-"
Your whimper when his cock slips free of your abused cunt and an seemingly impossible amount of his cum joins the absolute mess you've soaked the couch cushions with.
"Better fuckin' hydrate, hen." He punctuates it with a rather cruel slap to your pussy.
Summary: Waking up beside a man and sending him on his way was supposed to be an easy task. But now it was time to get a peek at the consequences of their actions. Enjoy a glimpse into a gentler side of this chance meeting.
Warnings: Mild Manipulation, smut, daddy issues, some very mild dubcon (she's into it), age-gap, minor character death, review of childhood abuse, neglect, mentions of cancer throughout, breeding kink, future pregnancy and pregnancy issues.
Pairing: Captain John Price x Phoebe Cross (OC).
Masterlist
A/N: After a hiatus, we are so back! Co-authored with @siriuslysmutty <3
Length: 3,106 words
I hadnβt known exactly when Captain woke up, but it was not long before me. He was padding his way across the bedroom toward the loo when I became aware of the world around me. I assume that he wanted to wash up after everything from the night before. My eye cracks open to watch his shoulders sway, the man shamelessly naked as he moves to clean himself up properly.
I watch the muscles in his back tremble with each step, his body not quite ready to be awake. I also canβt help but eye the ripples in his thighs and backside with every step he takes. I suppose thatβs what happens when you train every part of your body the way I presume he does. His muscles were mostly concealed under a layer of thick dark body hair on his chest, and some thinner on his back but it was barely noticeable with my blurry vision and the distance he had created.Β
What I could see, however, was the hubris oozing off of him. He had me in every way he had desired last night. There was no modesty or humility in that walk of his. That was a saunter.Β
The bathroom door clicks closed and I sit up a bit, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. My pinkie finger finds my cornea, wiping some sleepy sandΒ away before I pick up my rounded golden glasses from the nightstand.
I ran my fingers through my hair, immediately wishing there wasnβt a rugged military vet in my bathroom so I could wash the product out of it. The curl creams, gel and hairspray helped my curls from becoming mop of untamable russet vines that were molded together. His hands and mine had been in my hair last night, not to mention the immense frizz that resulted from sleeping. The ringlets needed a refresh, but it would have to wait.Β
I hear the water begin to run in the bathroom, he would probably end up using my toiletries, but I suppose that would be fine. Not like I had any choice anyway; he certainly made himself comfortable.
I walk over to the closet and pull on a capri length robe made of cotton with lace on the trim. I then tie the string around my waist. It was light weight but concealed my modesty. Not that there was much modesty to be had with this stranger in my home, but I desired it all the same.Β
I twist my mop up into a bun, and gingerly make my way to the kitchen. I must have slept well, because the moment my feet hit the wooden floor of the hallway, I felt prickles, as though my feet were not quite ready to work yet.
The coffee maker starts up with a couple button presses. I liked just basic boring coffee with some milk and sugar or creamer I had in the fridge. I wasnβt sure how Captain would like his coffee, so I just pulled a mug down for him from the cabinet.Β
Hot breath leaves me as I hold the mug just below my nose, sitting at my kitchen table. The time hadnβt occurred to me until I heard a ring at my door. My immediate reaction was twofold. Ignore it, and who would come knocking so early??Β
Thatβs when I finally looked at the clock I had mounted on my living room wall. It was brown with intentionally-tarnished brass detailing.Β It was almost 10:40 a.m. Damn, we must have been up later than I thought. Last I knew was when I looked at the clock and it was past 11. Surely it wasnβt much longer than that?Β
I sigh when the doorbell rings a second time, and I stand up. My mug clinks down onto the wooden table before I made sure my robe was securely tied around my waist.
I peep through the spy hole before seeing the bright and beamingΒ face of my new and very young stepmother. Stephanie was only 5 years my senior, but she was trying her best to be a good mother. A friend at the very least, but she was good to my baby sisters, so thatβs all that really mattered to me. They deserved to have someone to help guide them through their teen years.Β
βSteph.β I greet once I had unlocked the door.Β
βHey! Do you have some room for any of this stuff?β Stephanie held up about three bags from various stores.
The plastic and paper crinkled as she struggled to balance them in her hands while also holding a couple of teas for us. There was a local shop down the street that had tea, coffee, rolls and buns.Β
βOf course.β I step over to her and help take the gifts.
The holidays were coming up and Stephanie liked to hide the girlsβ gifts here so that they couldnβt peek. Emma, the elder of the two, was always the leader in the snooping schemes. She knew all of my hiding spots, so I never had any issue with Steph hiding them here. The girls, Emma and our youngest sister Noel,Β donβt come to my place that often anyway. Not unless Steph brings them. Emma insists once dad buys her a car, she will drive over with Noel more often but I would never expect that of her.Β
I helped Steph put the gifts into the coat cupboard. I didnβt even keep most of my coats in it, as those were situated on the hat stand by the door.Β It just had some shoes for stepping out to get my mail and my winter gear such as mittens, hats, and my heavier jackets. Steph took note that I wasnβt dressed yet, βIβm sorry if I intruded.β She hands me the tea sheβd gotten for me.Β
βDonβt worry about it, I just had a late night.βΒ
βA late night grading papers or a late night with Darling?β Steph grins cheekily to me. I have spent a lot of time with Darling these days.Β
βThe latter, I suppose.β Do I tell her I hooked up with someone who I wasnβt even out to meet? Absolutely not. We werenβt there yet in our relationship, and I wasnβt sure Iβd ever be too keen on telling my new stepmother about a man entirely inappropriate for me; the grizzly whoβd eaten me like I was the honey at the bottom of his honey pot. Why on Earth would I even consider talking to her about that?
βI can understand that. Maybe save the date for me then? Iβd like to have a girlβs day with you. Maybe get our nails done or something. On me.βΒ
On me. That meant my dadβs credit card. Part of me wanted to dent his pocketbook for all the nonsense I endured under that man. Get a full salon experience from facial to pedicure. The larger part of me, however, wanted to be independent and not have him pay for my shit, even if it was just getting my nails done. I momentarily swallowed my ego.Β
βSure.β That was all I could get out, knowing I would fight her later on paying.Β
Steph beamed at the fact I was even open to going and hanging out with her. I admire that she really is trying to be a friend. She knows this is a delicate situation and that pretending to parent me would be asinine.Β
Steph was just about to speak when the bathroom door creaked open, Captain stepping out with my crisp beige towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. I swear I could see the curls of his pubes from across the room. His body glistening from the humidity in the bathroom, even though heβs already dried off.Β
His head tilted a small degree when he saw me speaking to Steph. His voice was level and calm as he spoke, βmy apologies, I didnβt know Birdie had a friend over.β
Stephanie, however, was gawking at the man who had emerged from the washroom. As if she werenβt married to my father!
βNo-! I mean- Itβs totally fine, I was on my way out anyway.β Steph interrupted him, her eyes shamelessly checking out my fling from the night prior. Hair from head to toe concealing his body which had just the perfect body fat to muscle ratio. Even I found myself distracted seeing him in the brighter light.
Steph reminded me of Darling sometimes. I canβt help but notice that she didnβt make any attempt to correct him for not being my friend.Β
Captain walked to us, βPleasure to meet you,β He said with a casual, albeit charming melody in his voice.
βSteph.β She shook his hand. She looked at him for a moment and I couldnβt tell if she had racing thoughts or zero thoughts. It looked like she had put a puzzle together in her mind while also being so taken with the being before us that she couldnβt actually string any words or thoughts together.Β
Β βAhem-β I interject, despite wanting to melt into the carpet and disappear. βWould you mind getting dressed?β I ask sheepishly.Β
He smirks, knowing damn well what he was doing, βas you wish, Birdie. Nice to meet you, Steph.β He walked back to the bedroom.Β
βPhoebe.βΒ
βI know.β I say, despite the scarlet coloring to my cheeks.Β
βLate night with Darling?β Steph teased, amused by how embarrassed I was.Β
βWellβ¦β I was at a loss of defenses. There were some harsh things I could have said, but I knew she meant no harm.Β
βWhatβs his name?β She asked curiously as she sipped her tea.Β
I stand there at a loss for words at the moment, only wanting this humiliation to end already. The only way this could have been worse is if my father or sisters came with Steph today. βDonβt-β I begin to plead with her not to air out my dirty laundry.Β
I pause, the crimson on my cheeks morphing into a deeper maroon, βI donβt know.β
βPhoebe Crossβ Steph gasped out with a playful motion to clutch her imaginary pearls. βHow scandalous.βΒ
βAh, I won't. Swear, itβs not anyoneβsΒ business anyway. I understand. Iβll go so you can enjoy.β She gives me a hug before she adjusts the Mulberry bag on her shoulder.Β
βSee ya later~β She leaves the apartment, my tea still steaming in the cup in my hand. I close the door behind her and rest my forehead on the junction of the frame and edge of the door. Fuck.Β
Captainβs voice brought me out of my recovery, his pants and underwear on his body, his shirt in his hand.Β
βShe seems nice.βΒ
I turn to look at him, βShe tries to be.βΒ
βArenβt you friends?β His voice was laced with curiosity.Β
βNot exactly. Sheβs my step-mom.βΒ
He made a very poor attempt to hide his surprise. βOhβ¦βΒ
βYeah.β I could just feel the questions he had. Did she look young for her age, or was she actually young?Β
βI could have sworn she was a friend or cousin or something.βΒ
βNo, my dad just remarried a few years ago. She tries her best, but things are still awkward for me.βΒ
John nods in understanding and walks over to me. His rough hands find my shoulders and one slides down my arm until my hand is engulfed in his. βI can understand that. Do you want to talk about it?β He kindly offers, his baby blue eyes sweet as he looks into my amber ones.Β
βNot particularly. She was just bringing over my sistersβ holiday gifts.β I shrug just a touch as he guides me away from the door. I didnβt exactly feel like detailing all of my family trauma to this man.
Β βI see. Would you like some breakfast?β He asks as he steps into the kitchen.Β
βI can make something-βΒ
βNo Iβve got it, you just relax. Iβm sure this morning has been stressful enough for you.β Captain opened the cabinet and looked for anything he could use to make me some food.Β
I sit at the table and look through to the kitchen, my hands clasped around the paper container my tea was in. βYouβre welcome to make tea or coffee.β I say quietly. John begins to make me some breakfast. He nods to the coffee cup already steaming. The one Iβd made before Steph came by. I much preferred tea, but sometimes the late night papers required something stronger to keep the words from blending together.Β βYou can have that one if youβd like.βΒ
He picks up the mug and slips back into the kitchen to continue making breakfast.Β
βI didnβt know you wore glasses.β He didnβt even look up as he made this observation. My fingers instinctively find the golden rim of my rounded glasses. βOh, yeah. I canβt see shit without them.β He chuckled smoothly as he put some eggs into a pan.Β
βSo you didnβt see anything last night?βΒ
βI had my contacts in.β I didnβt remember removing them; I must have done it in the middle of the night. Then again, the whole thing was so mundane I didnβt always recall if I took them out or not. Since I couldnβt see this morning, I assume I did.Β
I watched him for a moment, βIβll go put them in.βΒ
βNo need,β he stops me with his words alone, βI like your glasses. They look good on you. You look good this morning.βΒ
Good? I had like third day curls that were caked together with mousse and gel, twisted together into a knot atop my head. My makeup was most decidedly smudged under my eyes, and I know I probably looked exhausted. How could I possibly look good? I didnβt question him though, as despite my personal opinion on how I probably looked, he didnβt seem to mind. If anything, he seemed to enjoy seeing my more natural and haphazard appearance.Β
βThank you.β I say with a half-forced smile. He just gives a silent nod in return. Something about this entire domestic encounter made me unnaturally comforted. Like all of the embarrassment and stress from Stephβs impromptu visit had melted off my body and floated away from my mind. At the same time, I felt some trepidation in this encounter. I was comfortable, but I knew I probably shouldnβt be. This was so very not normal.Β
Once our food was done cooking, he brought over two plated meals of fried eggs and toast.. Heβd managed to make a decent breakfast with the minimal food I had laying around; today was grocery day.Β
βThank you again.β I say softly before beginning to eat my meal.Β
βYouβre welcome, itβs the least I could do for embarrassing you today.β Captain began eating his food as well, his eyes meeting mine for a moment.Β
βOh, you didnβt.. It was more so the situation as a whole. You know, some guy nearly naked in my flat with my far-too-young stepmom in the foyer. It was not ideal.βΒ
βI can imagine that. Still, Iβm sorry.βΒ
βYouβre very polite.β I note, sipping on my tea. At least Stephanie got my favorite tea.Β
βWell-β I correct myself pretty quickly, βwhen you want to be.βΒ
I take a moment to enjoy this, as Iβd never brought a man back to my flat and had him stay long enough to shower, make me breakfast, and shower me with compliments. Though, I suppose this was the difference between hooking up with a boy with the emotional maturity of a critter and a man who, by all known accounts, has seen his fair share of life to know how to treat a woman.Β
At least thatβs what I assume. It was still curious to me how he was single, especially with his talents from last night. I realize while Iβm eating that I know very little about the man at my table. This was just supposed to be a hookup. But something deep within me was both cautious and curious about why it felt different. Why he felt so familiar and comfortable and yet so foreign and new.Β
Besides all of this, it wasnβt like this was a common occurrence for me. Darling had to really push me to do this and to be selfish for a night. Once we were both done eating, I picked up the plates and took them to the counter top. While Iβm washing the dishes, he disappears into the bedroom again. I assume heβs making sure he has all of his stuff.Β
Captain returns to the room and I look at him. βHeading out?β
Β He nods just a little, βsuppose so.β He walked over to me, his eyes sparkling just like every time I looked into them.Β
I smile just a little, βthank you again, for breakfast and everything.βΒ
βNo need to thank me, I enjoyed it, Birdie.β He says in a low tone before he presses a kiss to my cheek. It wasnβt a deeply romantic gesture like some grand goodbye kiss. But it was sweet; a token of his appreciation and a sign that he had, in fact, enjoyed himself. He was too charming for his own good. Even for a know-it-all oaf of a man.
A lighter shade of the scarlet blush from before spread across my cheeks. Captain gave me that goofy smile of his, βIβll see you around.β he said calmly before he walked out the door. The second the door had clicked closed I let out a heavy sigh. I didnβt want, nor need, a boyfriend, but there was something magnetic about that man.Β
No. Stop it, Phoebe. I curse myself for even daring to think like that. Donβt be that girl that hopes for a life-long romance after one night.Β
You donβt even know him, be practical. I shake the thought from my head. I donβt need a romance, I needed to get fucked. And thatβs exactly what I did. Nothing more. He was just kind enough to use some of my soap and make me breakfast. That is it. Be practical.Β
I walk to the bedroom to get myself cleaned up, but the second my feet cross the threshold of my bedroom door, I see it.Β
That damn black beanie lying neatly on the pillow he had used last night, and a beige napkin from the bar lying on top of it. I sigh and walk over, picking up the napkin and running my thumb across the dried ink on it.Β
I've not seen anything for it yet, so please help a girl out.
What are your interpretations of usually being able to eject myself from the dream world then not being allowed to by someone in the dream.
Normally in my dreams I get scared or at a certain point I realize I'm dreaming and consciously think "nope I'm done" and then wake myself up. I do this for almost every nightmare and every time a dream goes wrong.
Tonight wasn't one of those. The villain knew I could do that and was dreaming and didn't let me leave.
Tw: my dream mentions torture but I don't detail what it was, even though the whole dream was crazy detailed.
So tonight, I had a dream where my friend and I were called "old world" witches and we had been captured by this family. The main woman looked familiar but I didn't know her well. (I could place maybe 4 women I've seen that look similar but not her exact face). She was leading the whole thing.
She went on to torture and hurt me in the dream. At some point a guy came around my side and told me I was bleeding too much and that they had to keep going if I wanted to survive. They needed us alive for whatever reason.
The woman got close to my face and told me I "escape" her too often and that this time I couldn't bail out. I couldn't leave this world until she was finished with me and that too long I've avoided the inevitable by "waking up". That shook me because it felt so meta and like she was aware I was 1. Not in the waking world we live in and 2. I frequently pull myself out of dreams.
My friend had disassociated and I was screaming. Then I hear her suddenly speaking backwards or something and the only way I can describe it is being possessed by the ancestors. I start floating and roaring full "Conjuring" style, but then throw up a white smoke and all these spirits surround us. People from women dressed in old world clothes to warriors or healers or something. But they helped us defeat this family.
We wrote what happened in a journal and made a spell that only the best of our "kind" would find it and read what happened here. My friend turns into a cat and runs off, I dive into the river with the book and kind of transcend my body. I watch the book wash up on some shoreline and a little girl picks it up and starts reading it. Then I woke up.
I'm open to interpretation from logical commentary on where my waking life is, to shifting, to the dreamworld, to spirits. I just wanna know what y'all think
This was written at 6 am so my apologies if it makes no sense I literally just woke up π
A/N: I'm woefully behind on writing, life got crazy in September so apologies for skipped days or delay in posts.
A soft sigh.
A labored breath.
A stifled groan caught in his throat.Β
Simon lied on the metal cot, doing his damndest to prevent it from creaking despite his motions. His hand ran up and down his cock, savoring any bit of privacy he could find.
And you? You were watching. The thick, heavy fabric of the curtain separating your βroomsβ within the safehouse gently pressed against your index finger. The curtain was barely open, just enough for one of your eyes to peer in and see what was happening behind it.Β
Johnny had sustained a knee injury during this mission. The safehouse had been converted to a makeshift field clinic. They were awaiting a contact meeting anyway. The hope was that his injury wasnβt so bad, and that sending a few medics in to take care of it would clear him to continue the mission by the time the contact meeting happened.Β
That was unlikely based on what you saw.Β
They set up some curtains between the temporary cots they had, allowing privacy, albeit minimal. You and Simon had many stolen glances and intense eye contact every time you spoke. You couldnβt deny the tension you thought existed between you. Youβd do just about anything to one day be in Simonβs arms, holding him, maybe even bouncing on his cock-Β
Focus
So, when you were checking in on Johnnyβs wound, and heard a very faint noise from down the row, you thought youβd check it out.Β
It was at the end of the row, in the corner. Simon requested the most privacy, to which everyone agreed. He had two walls of concrete in the corner, and two thick curtained βwallsβ.Β
Curtains did nothing to hide what he was doing. He didnβt make many noises, almost silent save for some labored breaths you picked up. The noise youβd heard initially was a soft creak repeatedly from his cot. Once, then twice, the third and fourth rhythm before silence was what caused you to investigate in the first place.Β
What your eyes found in the dark was Simon on his back, slightly propped up by his backpack under his head. His mask was still on, despite being alone. You figured it was so he could pack up and leave in less than a minute if needed.
His hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking it with a slight tremor in his hand. The longer you watched, youβd realized this wasnβt boredom. This was an emergency. He needed to get it out, and it simply couldnβt wait any longer.Β
Your eyes strain to get a glimpse of his cock, his large hand and the angle of his cot from where you were concealing more than youβd like. Despite that, you kept watching.Β
You feel your pulse quicken under the collar of your jacket, your cheeks flushed. You were holding your breath mostly, taking only soft nasal breaths when you needed it.Β
GodΒ
What you wouldnβt do to be on top of that man. Taking his trembling hand off his cock while you take over for him. To be the one to make him cum all over himself. You were there to take care of the guys after allβ¦ that definition could be extrapolated, in your opinion.Β
Your free hand was pressed to your stomach to stabilize yourself, knowing exactly what youβd do the moment you got alone. Your pussy throbbing in your panties, your thighs pressed together for any pressure, though you didnβt dare move and risk exposing your actions.Β
Simon adjusted a little bit, his breath trembling, chewing on the inside of his cheek to keep as silent as possible. Your gaze was intense, examining his cock, his hand, listening for every stifled sound he might makeβ¦Β
Your focus was locked on him.Β
Heβs close. You can tell by the urgency.Β
Just a little moreβ¦. You pull the curtain just a touch more to get a better view.Β
β¦..
βWhatβre ya doinβ, Bird?βΒ
That thick, rough voice sliced through your focus like a knife in butter. Crimson painted your entire face when his paw clasped on your shoulder. You turn quickly, seeing Captain Priceβs stern eyes looking rather displeased with your actions.
Simon, of course, heard this, thinking Price was talking to him, quickly cursed under his breath, tucking his throbbing cock away. His poor cock leaking precum into his boxers now.Β
βI-β you start, and in that moment Simon realized you were there too. βUse your words, y/n.βΒ
That voice, damn that fucking voice.
When you continue to stand there in stunned silence, John peels back the curtain to see what exactly had you peeping into Simonβs only privacy for.Β
He saw the man hurriedly buttoning up his pants again, a low rumble emanating from his own chest.Β
βI see.βΒ
βCaptain, I wasnβtβ¦ lβ¦ I was just making sure he was alright-β God, you just wanted to melt into the concrete and vanish from this situation.Β
You look between Simon and John; Simon slowly walking over. βYou know itβs rude to be a peepenβ tom.β Johnβs voice always elicited a reaction out of you, especially when he drops down an octave, allowing his chest to rumble with every syllable.Β
That fucking voice of his shoots right down to your core, making your poor pussy weep more than it already had been.Β
Simon had a million things he could say, but he stayed silent. Thatβs about when Johnβs attention turned to him, despite keeping his firm grip clasped on your shoulder.Β
βAnd what on Earth were you thinkinβ? Doinβ that here? Youβre smarter than that, Lieutenant.βΒ
Silence filled the air. Simon had no good answer. It was a good question, and Simon had no answer for it. He knew it was unorthodox, especially with the lack of privacy. But your arrival proved difficult for Simon, so he was only getting it out of his system. Simon had the most self control normally, however when it came to youβ¦ he was weak.Β
John leaned down to your ear, his breath ghosting around your flesh, βdoes watchinβ people get you off? Or is it just Simon?βΒ
Your breath catches in your chest, no words leaving your lips.
Β He chuckled darkly, βyou filthy little thing.β He glances up toward Simon, βyou want βim?β Simon stares at the two of you. It was unlike John to be this bold, but perhaps Simon wasnβt the only one pent up after your arrival.Β
Your face was blazing in humiliation. Youβd not only been caught, but now he was reading you like an open fucking book. You nod only a little, not knowing what else to do.Β
Looks like our Bird needs to learn a few things.βΒ
Bird. The name they all had for you, since you always got flown in whenever one of them was hurt. You come and go, never really in one place.Β
You couldnβt see it, but you could be sure a hesitant yet elated smile paints across Simonβs face under his mask. He just grunts softly. Price was playing the both of you like a fiddle.Β
Being the Captain, John had the most private space, which was typically meant for meetings and whatnot, but there was the same shitty cot in the corner. He leads the both of you to the makeshift room, in a different area entirely from the drapes used for the rest of the team.Β
You felt as though you had no choice, not that you would say no if either had asked. They knew you well enough to know how vocal you were. They knew youβd be kicking up your heels and being very firm if you didnβt actually want this. It didnβt need to be said, they just knew.Β
You step into the less than luxurious room. It was shotty, livable at best. Once you go in and John closes the door. You knew poor Simon had been edged when you were busted, and he was probably just in it for a good blowjob or something.Β
But then you see it.Β
The gaze they both had on you, their eyes held a primal hunger you hadnβt quite seen until now. This whole time you were here to help Johnny recoverβ¦Β
β¦they were hunting you. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Particularly John, whoβd been bidding his time and chastising himself for having immoral thoughts about a subordinate. It was unprofessional at best.Β
βStrip.β John said firmly, leaving no room for argument.Β
You hesitate, your mind connecting to what was happening. Simon steps forward, βdid he fuckinβ stutter?βΒ
That was the first thing Simon said tonight, and suddenly you were reminded exactly what you were watching him do only moments prior. You didnβt want a reputation of a Barraks Bunny, but fuck.Β
Youβd be damned if you had the opportunity to get railed by both John and Simon and didnβt take it.
Your fingers gingerly find the front of your uniform, one button at a time loosening it while watching them yourself. Their eyes graze over your body as their own become more and more visible to you. It wasnβt more than a moment later you find yourself sandwiched between them, their clothes rough on your skin.Β
Your eyes flick up the moment you felt John grabbing your chin.
He takes a beat, admiring your face with a silence that was utterly deafening.Β
Then, he rumbles into your ear, βyouβre not going to touch him, understood?βΒ
Your eyes widen, but so do Simonβs. Johnβs eyes lift from your face and look at his. There was something unspoken between the men; they knew something you werenβt privy to.Β
βYou like peepinβ at L.T. so much?βΒ
It was a rhetorical questionβ¦ you did and you all knew it. You bite down on your lip, anxiety filling you as you melt under Johnβs intense gaze, Simon staring you down from behind as well.Β
βYouβre gonna get your wish, little Bird. Youβre going to get on that bed and watch him.β You open your mouth to speak, but Johnβs grip on your chin tightens, βdid I say you could speak? You wantβa act like a little voyeur, youβre goinβ to be treated like one.βΒ
John, the ever dominating presence in the room looks at Simon, βand you,β his tone was a bit less seductive, more irritated; as though what he was about to say was to also humiliate and teach Simon a lesson of his own.Β
This poor man just wanted to get off in what little privacy he had, and you got him and yourself in this very unique situation with a side of John youβd not yet seen before. You couldnβt deny it thoughβ¦ Johnβs dominance and the way Simon seemed to falter, even slightly, at his orders was just as arousing to you as when John was talking down to you.Β
βYouβre goinβ sit in that fuckinβ chair, and finish the job. Do what you have to do, but do not touch her. Our slut needs to sit in her own discomfort.β
Our slut??Β
Dear lord, this was going to be hell and you were giddy about it; you really should not be as excited as you were. Watching the growing tension between John and Simonβs gazes. It wasnβt a sexual tension, it was a silent battle for dominance and control; John was winning. He stood tall, and Simon, despite being such a large man, let out a sound you could swear was akin to a muffled whimper before he dragged the chair from your Captainβs desk over, sitting near the end of the bed, his legs spread.Β
You gingerly climb onto Johnβs cot, while John reaches toward his backpack of his gear. He glances over his shoulder to Simon, βGet to work. Sheβs waitinβ.βΒ
Simon clears his throat a bit in discomfort before he unzips his pants, pulling out his cock, still mostly hard. You swallow, unable to contain your thoughts as you notice how red it looked from being still hard and roughly stuffed into his boxers when he realized heβd been caught.Β
John tosses a small packet to Simonβs feet, the man leaning down. It was a pouch of lubricant. Simon picked it up, bringing the corner to his teeth and tearing the package open. By the time the lube was on his throbbing cock, your legs were spread, watching him jack off once more.Β Β
Simonβs eyes were glued to your pussy, your fingers finding it, Simon using it as his own porn. Youβd both thought youβd be masturbating to one another.Β
The second your finger tips find your aching clit, however, you see John approach and tsks quietly.Β
βYou donβt get to touch yourself, you little slut. You wanted to watch Simon, so youβre going to watch Simon, not play with your pussy.βΒ
You whimper softly, βbut-βΒ
βNo. Do I make myself clear?βΒ
You gingerly pull your fingers away from your clit, only to see John had been digging in his backpack for some zip tie handcuffs. He grabs your shoulder, making you sit up as he sits behind you, testing the endurance of the shitty cot you were both on.
You lean back, settling against Johnβs clothed chest, wishing you could feel his skin on yours. John seemed to be the most self-controlled of the three of you, but you couldnβt deny just how hard his cock was in his pants.Β
Johnβs breath in your ear, his bead tickling your shoulder as he reaches around you and slips your hands into the loops, tightening the cuffs. βPut your hands behind my head.βΒ
You shutter at the low growl in your ear, before you raise your arms, your fingers in his hair at the back of his head, the cuffs resting on the back of his neck. His head on your shoulder, breathing in your ear heavily.Β
He and you both look at Simon, who was jerking off full force now, his grip tight around his cock as he tugs at it fiercely. He wasnβt trying as hard to keep silent now, amused at the state you were in and only spurred on more by your denied whimpers.Β
Johnβs fingers find your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index fingers, whispering into your ear about what a filthy whore you were for getting off on this, and how pathetic both you and Simon were, whimpering for each other.Β
Simon couldnβt quite hear this next bit, but he could tell by how crimson your face had turned and the soft gasps that left your lips when John pinched down on your nipples as he whispered that it got you going.Β
βNext time you want your pathetic pussy played with, you come to me, understand?βΒ
You whimper, gasping softly, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment, βYes, Captain, pleaseβ¦βΒ
βUse your words, little Bird, please what?βΒ
βPlease touch my pussy-βΒ
He tutts again, Simon groans as he jerks a bit faster.Β
βNo, you donβt get your pussy played with this time. Thatβs what happens when you intrude on your Lieutenant.βΒ
You whimper in frustration as John releases one of your nipples to grab your jaw and makes you look right at Simon, βwatch.βΒ
Simon lets out a deep groan as he finally finishes, his cum splurting in sloppily aimed ropes onto the floor.Β
βYouβre dismissed.β He says firmly to Simon. The man slumps in his chair for a moment to breathe before he hesitates.
βAre you fuckinβ-βΒ
βNow.βΒ
Simon didnβt argue this time, grumbling while he tucked himself into his pants once more and left Johnβs room. He didnβt even spare a glance back, obeying like the good war dog he was.Β
John pulls a blade from his belt, bringing your hands back in front of you; you hadn't realized how tightly you were gripping his hair. He slides the blade between the zip tie and your flesh, cutting them with one swift motion. βGet dressed.β He said firmly, his eyes trained on you.Β
You shakily get up, unable to deny how slick your pussy and thighs were and how fucking horny you were now. You pull your clothes on bit by bit.Β
Before you leave too, you feel Johnβs firm hand slap across your ass.Β
You found Merman!Gaz tangled up in a net right off the pier and he hissed and tried to claw at you as you tried to free him. He was terrified you were gonna hurt him like every other human that has been near him.
"There you go, sweetie... All free, you can go now..." You cooed at him as you tossed the net to the side. He turned his head to the side and looked at you funny. He was waiting for you to try to poke and prod at him or hurt him in some sort of way.
Once he realized you weren't gonna try to harm him or touch him, he went back under water and swam away. This is the only interaction he's had with a human that wasn't negative. The rest of his pod isn't gonna believe this.
Thinking about being crowded at the pub by 141 like Goldielocks.
The bearded one is too old and blowing cigar smoke in your face.
The big guy in the mask nearly makes you piss yourself, also has a staring problem.
The scot with the blue eyes like a haunted Victorian child is too handsy and off putting.
All of them have your brain screaming *DANGER*...
Until the one with the sweet, blindingly white smile apologizes about them and offers to pay your tab because they're being right assholes...
And you don't know your mistake until he's pounding your ass away to oblivion an hour later and prying your jaw apart to spit in your mouth. You didn't realize he was just as bad as them until you're crying from overstimulation so bad you don't even try to stop him from snapping pictures and videos for his mates from the pub as he purrs at you in that *sweet, sweet* voice "poor little slag."
- Ty
This is so funny to me because this is very much how I would see the 141 men.
All of them are beautiful, but I would have strong opinions about them initially:
John would be too intimidating to me, and despite joking about older men, I think in practice our age gap would make me uncomfortable. Boy, oh boy, would be tempted though. Solid choice, not right for me though.
Simon, being the big guy in a mask would intimidate me as well, but more in a fearful way. Current me knows that he probably means well, but the intense staring would really put me off.
While I would be most attracted to Johnny (let's be real, I'm a slut for that man), I agree he would be far too handsy and very forward in this context. I would end up stuttering over my words and making a fool of myself out of both flattery and anxiety.
But the one who is the most charming, the least intimidating, and perhaps even makes fun of the intensity of his mates would be the one making my heart go pitter patter. Kyle would sweet talk his way right into my heart and I'd be smitten.
But oh my god the way I would still think him to be juuust right even though he'd be making me cry from overstimulation and probably embarrassing me all the while I begged for more from him. Just don't tell me he sends the pictures to his friends, my ego would not be able to handle it.
Kyle is a close second choice for me, but I'll never complain about getting Kyle. I love the idea that he comes off as charming and gentlemanly. He has manners, but is an absolute hound when he finally gets you under him.
Thinking ABO thoughts after being up all night reading a beautifully executed one...
Ghost and Reader.
Alpha and Omega.
Both with avoidant attachment and scent blockers.
They can feel the bond but neither will awknowledge it.
Interactions are *need based only*.
Price: hey, go deliver this to Ghost-
You: johnny I will give you twenty quid to deliver this to Ghost-
They all think you hate each other but it's literally just the *I'm too fucking horny to talk to this woman* as a sound.
-ty
Them staging an intervention for you two, thinking you hate one another. The three of them get you both in a room and sit you down, John pinching the bridge of his nose, "Whatever is going on, it needs to stop. We can't have a cohesive team if you won't speak to each other."
But in reality, you're both just clawing at the bars of your enclosure for one another. You're both staring each other down while Kyle and Johnny complain about being your carrier pigeons.
You both continue on as you did before, avoiding each other. Simon far too horny to ever actually interact with you, and you just always so disarmed and flustered by Simon.
Until you come banging on his door.
He opens the door, "It's the 15th."
You have the widest eyes, "It's the 15th..."
You were in heat right on schedule and Simon had prepared.
Twins join the task force. And its those clichè tv twins. Who look the same, are always in sync and get confused for one another
I'm so amused by this because imagine John is the only one who knows there are two of you. You both meet Simon, Kyle and Johnny separately and they are confused because they totally met you before??
Kyle would probably clock it pretty fast when he noticed a slight variation in your faces. You have a mole just above your jaw bone, your sister doesn't have one. It's a tiny mole, but Kyle notices it. He's totally not just staring at you all the time or anything... that... that would be weird, right?
Not to Simon. He's always silently watching. Staring. He realizes you're twins first because sometimes you're ready to fight John, and other times you're so bashful around him. You were very intimidated by him, but your sister was a bit more mouthy. We will say Simon was just observant, and didn't fully see the two of you in the barracks plotting how to mess with them.
Johnny is the last to know. You and the guys are chatting while your sister is taking a shower. just shootin' the shit about scary movies. He mentioned when he first watched The Shining. How it terrified him and how since a child, twins always creeped him out. Later that evening, you talk to your sister. You weren't intentionally hiding each other, you were just always in separate places the first few days. It peaks when you both stand about 5 feet from his bunk, heads tilted whispering, "Come play with us, Johnny." He's never screamed so loud, and from then on, he was always creeped out when you two did things in synch. At least he'd not mess with you too much.
Having been on the team a while, the men have treated you with nothing but professionalism and respect. Save Nik.
The team finds out and is now demanding to be in on the sleepovers too.
-Ty
No thoughts, just doing your hair while the guys sit around the room, and you're filling them in on all of the gossip. Even if it's old drama from when you were a kid. Johnny is overly invested, Kyle is amused, John pretends to be irritated but finds it funny, Simon just likes hearing you tell stories.
They just wanna be included in the sleepovers lol
There is a more explicit spin on this ask, but we are choosing wholesome
Thinking about being crowded at the pub by 141 like Goldielocks.
The bearded one is too old and blowing cigar smoke in your face.
The big guy in the mask nearly makes you piss yourself, also has a staring problem.
The scot with the blue eyes like a haunted Victorian child is too handsy and off putting.
All of them have your brain screaming *DANGER*...
Until the one with the sweet, blindingly white smile apologizes about them and offers to pay your tab because they're being right assholes...
And you don't know your mistake until he's pounding your ass away to oblivion an hour later and prying your jaw apart to spit in your mouth. You didn't realize he was just as bad as them until you're crying from overstimulation so bad you don't even try to stop him from snapping pictures and videos for his mates from the pub as he purrs at you in that *sweet, sweet* voice "poor little slag."
- Ty
This is so funny to me because this is very much how I would see the 141 men.
All of them are beautiful, but I would have strong opinions about them initially:
John would be too intimidating to me, and despite joking about older men, I think in practice our age gap would make me uncomfortable. Boy, oh boy, would be tempted though. Solid choice, not right for me though.
Simon, being the big guy in a mask would intimidate me as well, but more in a fearful way. Current me knows that he probably means well, but the intense staring would really put me off.
While I would be most attracted to Johnny (let's be real, I'm a slut for that man), I agree he would be far too handsy and very forward in this context. I would end up stuttering over my words and making a fool of myself out of both flattery and anxiety.
But the one who is the most charming, the least intimidating, and perhaps even makes fun of the intensity of his mates would be the one making my heart go pitter patter. Kyle would sweet talk his way right into my heart and I'd be smitten.
But oh my god the way I would still think him to be juuust right even though he'd be making me cry from overstimulation and probably embarrassing me all the while I begged for more from him. Just don't tell me he sends the pictures to his friends, my ego would not be able to handle it.
I think my biggest issue is insecurity. I'm so afraid to upset anyone so my most unhinged thoughts I water down for my posts.
I'm working on not doing that anymore. It's purely a security thing, and I'll get over it lmao
I'm working on some posts for Kinktober2025. My goal with this is to more confidently post some content I've been otherwise hesitant to work on. I've been writing off and on since 2013, but I don't often post my most unhinged content. This is not only a fun writing exercise for me, but also building my confidence with what I post and being unapologetically myself about both the completely unserious stuff I hyper fix and write about, and projects like Stars Apart, which is a passion project.
In the meanwhile, enjoy some random thoughts and some asks that have been in my inbox for a *while*
