#for john this was the beginning of the Bad Stuff

[throwntotheair]

The idea that Dirk and John both share a flash with "Rise Up" in the title...

But for John, his is "John. Rise up." Note: he - him - John, not his role but him as a person. And it's not formatted as a command. The WV/Mayor was grieving his windy boy. This was a plea. For John specifically.

And for Dirk, his is "Prince of Heart: Rise up." Note: it's not about Dirk, it's about his role that he has to play. It's about the stuff he has to put in motion. It's less about him and more of what he can do. And this one is formatted like a command.

I feel like the Always Sunny guy with my massive conspiracy board - like!! LIKE!!! Do you see what Im saying? Do you say what Im seeing???

[elliebell77]

sorry i havent been posting i think im burnt out rn

[incesthemes]

it's so significant to me that do you believe in miracles paralleled all hell breaks loose specifically. because ahbl is the first time dean violates sam's autonomy to bring him back to life. it shows the extreme lengths that dean will go to protect sam, and despite all the other times dean has ignored sam's personhood in his pursuit to keep him alive, this is the moment in the show that fully exemplifies just how codependent these two really are, because there's an entire season dedicated to the consequences of that codependency.

so for dybim to take that imagery and scenario and reverse the roles means that this is supposed to be just as indicative of their codependence. it's a threshold that will have major consequences because sam crossed over the point of no return. there's no going back from choosing unhealthy codependency with your brother, the show is signaling. dean is sam's ultimate decision—he doesn't choose himself, he doesn't choose independence, he chooses dean, and all that that entails. he probably only realizes that all of his posturing about autonomy was a lie at the very moment he says it out loud, but once he's finally honest with himself it's a done deal. just like dean can never go back from his deal for sam's life, sam can never return to any point before this moment. he's in this relationship for good, and he wants to be codependent with dean; that's his decision.

and this is why soul survivor hurts so bad. because dean, like sam in season 9, declares that they're not family, not brothers. the role reversal continues, and sam is now suffering all of the pains he unwittingly put dean through by trying to maintain boundaries between them. now that he's realized he can't handle having those boundaries, any distance between him and dean is too much. here sam is, violating dean's autonomy and saving him against his will, just like dean has done to him so many times before. here he is, listening to dean reject him over and over again, like a parody of all sam's attempts to extricate himself from dean. he's on the other side now, staring down his brother and seeing his past self within him.

9.23 to 10.03 is just a speedrun of the previous 8 seasons but in reverse, with sam enduring the suffering of being in dean's position. and how tragic is it for sam to finally commit to his codependent relationship with dean, only for dean to leave him the moment it happens? how must that feel, for him to finally return his brother's feelings in all their toxic and fucked up glory, only to lose him in the worst way? to have all of his own words shouted back at him with the cruel intent to hurt—jesus christ. how am i supposed to cope with this in any normal way?

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 31: Forced Proximity

Summary: John and Kyle are gone. You have no choice but to lean on the alpha you've betrayed, the alpha that hates you.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 11,071 words

Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, anxiety, reader has a panic attack and several breakdowns, Simon being mean, ANGST, depression, lots of mentions of vomiting and the reader does get sick quite a bit though it's not descriptive in any way, ANGST, heat cycles, pseudoscience, medical stuff (that's probably very wrong), brief mention of needles, medical procedures (nothing very detailed), ANGST, very heavy emotionally again, some very light fluff like barely there but nothing compared to the ANGST

A/N: I did it. I finally got it up. It's uh...it's a heavy one again, I'll tell you that much. You'll hate me even more but oh well. I expected that through this part of the story. I'm so evil I know.

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“I don't like this. It's too...”

“Convenient?”

“Suspicious.”

“I know. But we don't have much of a choice in this.” John says, staring at Simon and Johnny. “You keep your eyes on her at all times. Stay in the barracks when you can. If you have to leave the barracks together, she goes with you.”

“We won't let her out of our sight.” Simon says. “If anything happens, Kate will be the first to know.”

“Good.” John says. He trusts the two of them to look after you. Yet he can't deny the timing of this is a bit suspicious. “We'll be back as soon as we can. Take good care of our girl.”

Two weeks. 

It’s been two weeks since John and Kyle left. 

Despite the fact it’s not the longest someone has been gone, it doesn’t ease the ache in your chest, the pain slowly carving its way into your very soul. You haven’t spoken to them. There’s been no word. Nothing. It could be a good thing. Sometimes no news is good news, and you suppose it’s better than a phone call saying they’ve died in some horrible accident. 

You keep waiting for that phone call. 

Every time Johnny or Simon’s phone rings, you begin to panic, fear eating away at that hole in your chest. It’s bad news, it’s Kate calling to tell them your alpha and beta aren’t coming home. 

You’ve hardly been able to relax, tense and jumpy at the littlest things. Being enclosed in the barracks at all times isn’t helping. You haven’t left once, not even to the med center. Dr. Keller has been coming to the barracks, more than she normally would for your appointments. You wonder if it was Johnny’s doing to try and help you relax, or Simon’s doing in hope you stop stinking up the barracks with the sour scent of nerves and fear. 

Simon has been distant still, avoiding you as much as he can. It’s impossible to avoid you completely, though, as Johnny can’t watch you 24/7. It’s a bit claustrophobic, the way they hover, always keeping one eye on you. It’s been a bit suffocating for the last three weeks, but with John and Kyle gone...it’s almost worse. 

Johnny has tried to fill that void, tried to support you in any way he can, but it hasn’t worked. You know it’s Johnny, you love Johnny, yet not even he can fill the void that has become your life without your alpha. 

You hate it. 

You hate their job, you hate that it takes them from you. You hate the uncertainty, the constant fear and worry that makes you sick. You hate that it’s dragged you into it. You know they were digging for the perpetrator of the cameras, who put them up, who ordered them to be put up, who potentially wanted to look into your personal life in such a violating way. The sudden deployment feels too suspicious, too sudden to be coincidence. 

But as John says, entertaining conspiracies won’t get you anywhere. 

Still...it smells fishy to you. 

The hole in your chest has left you in a constant state of uneasiness which has left you on the verge of tears constantly. Every day that passes without word of a tragedy or that they’re coming home makes your stomach churn, tears constantly brimming in your eyes. John’s shirt is constantly in your grasp, a dirty one you’d fished out of the bottom of his laundry basket, soaked in his scent. It’s beginning to fade, slowly eroding away until there won’t be anything left. Then you’ll grab another and another until you have none left. His room still smells like him, his pillows still fresh with his scent. 

You know it will fade, though, and fade fast. 

You’ve been avoiding spending too much time in his room and Kyle’s in favor of keeping their scents in there as long as possible. The fading of their scents is like an omen, marking a fading of their presence in your life, of the bond between you. The constant fear that you’ll forget them, what they sound like, what they smell like, what they look like. 

It makes you physically ill. 

That painful churning in your stomach is back as you sit on the couch in the rec room, curled up as far from Simon as you can get. Simon is still angry at you, at your betrayal of his trust. So much progress down the drain because you proved you’re not trustworthy after he trusted you enough to begin opening up. You still hate yourself for it, for keeping the secret for that long. Even a month would have been better and would have had less consequences for everyone. Maybe then you might have caught the camera in the bear sooner, and not been so violated during some of your most private moments. 

Some of those moments with Simon. 

How violated does he feel, having such vulnerable moments between you recorded and viewed by someone out there? You can’t help but think back to that night when he came back, and the morning after. Someone watched you. The bear had been right there, those black beady eyes staring right at the two of you. How many times had you fucked the others in your bed, the bear sitting there, watching, projecting those moments to whoever was on the other side. 

Your heat. 

The bear hadn’t been looking then, but it had been listening. It knows what happened, every last detail, every slam of the bed against the wall, every knot. 

It makes you sick. 

Your stomach churns, your arms wrapping around your middle as you let out a shaky breath. You’re going to puke again, the bile rising in your throat. The intense tingling in your hands is starting again, your fingers curling in as your extremities begin to go numb. You’re panicking again. 

Instead of vomit, a choked sob leaves your lips, your tears hot and burning on your cheeks, stinging like they’re composed of acid. 

Simon glances up from his phone, his face the mask of indifference that it has been for three weeks. A mask that he had worn for the first few months after your arrival. “What?” He asks, his tone flat and voice rough. 

You can’t answer him, too busy hyperventilating and sobbing where you sit. You can’t even think if you wanted to, your body aching as your muscles begin to tighten. You can’t distress. You’ve been fighting the urge since the day the truth came out. 

You can’t trust Simon to help you. 

You’re not even sure he knows how to. 

Of course, it would be easy to call Dr. Keller, get her to help him, but you’re not sure he’d want to. Could he be so angry and betrayed he’d just stand there and watch you distress yourself to death? 

He wouldn’t. He’d have to explain himself to John, why he let it happen. It would tear the pack apart. It would tear them apart. You wouldn’t put it past John to try and rip Simon’s throat out with his teeth in anger. It would be a bigger betrayal than yours, and Simon wouldn’t let you lose your spot at the top of that list. 

“Fuck.” Simon breathes, setting his phone down before moving in front of you. He lowers himself onto one knee, reaching for your arms. If you had been more aware you might have flinched away, but the lack of oxygen to your brain is making everything fuzzy. 

Simon grips your elbows, tugging you forward gently. Your legs are forced off the edge of the couch, your body upright as Simon holds your arms in his grasp, your legs between his as he kneels in front of you. You stare down at him, the sudden change in position shocking you for a moment. You choke around another sob, eyes blurry as you try to look at him. 

“I need you to breathe.” He says, squeezing your arms gently. 

You can’t. 

Your breaths are sobs, wracking your body, tearing at your lungs. Your chest hurts, aching and burning as you quickly begin spiraling out of control. 

“Look at me.” He says, shifting his hold to your wrists, taking them into one hand before he grabs your chin with the other. He keeps your head still, locked on his face. His eyes are blurry to your own teary ones as you look right at him, looking through the mass of blurry black that surrounds him. “Breathe.” He says, his voice rougher than normal, rumbling with the command of his alpha around the edges. 

It goes straight to your head, a shiver running down your spine. Your body shudders in response, your next sob catching painfully in your throat. You cough, lungs spasming as your body suddenly begins to follow his order automatically. Simon lets you go as you attempt to gain control over your out of control body. One part of your brain is still panicking, still pushing towards distress while the other fights to follow the alpha’s command. It’s a battle, your instincts at war with each other. 

The next inhale is a gasp, inhaling until your breath stutters and your lungs ache. You let it out slowly, the flood of oxygen making you shake in Simon’s hold. He keeps his hand around your wrists until your inhales stop stuttering and your muscles start to relax. 

He slowly releases you, pushing himself up to sit on the coffee table. You’re surprised it can hold so much weight after it’s been sat on so many times. Not even a creak as Simon lowers himself onto it. 

He rests his elbows on his knees as he stares at you. His figure begins to get clearer as your tears slow, no longer blurring your vision. You're expecting the sharp sting of his harsh gaze, or worse the indifference you've grown used to over the last three weeks. 

Instead there's a soft look in his eyes. Not soft as you would describe Johnny's, but soft compared to what it has been. Pity, you think. 

“You're a fucking mess.” He finally says. 

You laugh. You can't help it. The deadpan delivery of such a him statement in response to everything has a laugh escaping your lips. You wipe your eyes, sniffling. He hates it, hearing your sniffles. It annoys him when you cry, it always has. 

You push yourself back onto the couch, pulling your knees up again as you stare at him. There's a slight tremble to your fingers still as you sit there in silence for a moment. 

“I'm sorry.” You say, still looking at him. “If I had just said something sooner...” You swallow thickly as you stumble over your words. “None of us would have...the camera would have been found sooner...we wouldn't have...both of us...”

“You shouldn't apologize if you don't even know what to say.” He says, the softness in his gaze hardening again. 

“It's not that it's just...” You take a breath, trying to straighten out your thoughts. “I feel so guilty. This is all my fault and if I had just said something sooner, none of this would have happened. What happens next is my fault too. I know you and John have been digging into who is behind it and I know how risky that is. They know that we all know now, and...I'm scared of what might happen.”

You let out a long breath at your confession and attempt at an apology, squeezing your fingers together as they begin to tremble even more. You want to look away, his gaze piercing into you again. You're reminded of the moment the words had fallen from your lips that had caused this in the first place. Your heart begins thumping in your chest, your breathing picking up slightly at the memory. Will he get angry again? Will he snap at you and drag you down the hall to lock you in your room until John and Kyle get back, or Johnny calms him enough to rescue you?

“I feel so violated.” Your voice shakes. “I can't even imagine what it's been like for you. It took us so long to get to that point and...” You swallow the bile trying to rise in your throat. “I'm so sorry.” Tears blur your vision again. “I didn't know...I didn't think...I was so stupid.”

He scoffs. “You are.” His words are sharp, and they sting as they slice through you. “Fucking stupid, I'd say.” You wince at his words. “But you’re inexperienced. You don’t think about things like we do. No matter how much everyone has tried to drill it into your head, you’ll never truly understand until you experience it yourself.” He holds your gaze for a moment. “I hope you never have to.” 

You stare at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. You’ve put yourself in danger, you’ve put all of them in danger by keeping this all a secret. Whoever put those cameras up knew you were keeping it a secret and hadn’t done anything in retaliation against you for finding them and destroying them. Maybe that was their plan all along. They knew you’d keep it a secret and use that to their advantage. Strike when they least expected it, or perhaps wait for the moment the truth inevitably came out and then strike. 

The thought has a cold chill running down your spine. 

You’re afraid for a different reason now. 

John and Kyle are gone. Anything could happen to them and it wouldn’t look suspicious. Or whoever put those cameras up wanted everyone split up. Attack when there’s less knights defending the castle. 

A shiver runs through you, making you curl in on yourself. The feeling of being watched is back. The darkness peeking out from around the blinds over the rec room windows suddenly feels very threatening. 

“What’s goin’ on in here?” 

A startled yelp leaves your lips as you whip around to face Johnny where he’s leaning against the door to the rec room. Simon’s body tenses in response to your fearful yelp, an unconscious motion he has no control over. Alphas will always have the drive to protect the omegas in their pack. It’s a natural protective mechanism, no matter how they may be feeling about said omega. 

Simon’s body relaxes as you do, putting a hand over your heart to try and calm yourself down again. 

“Jumpy this evenin’.” Johnny says, entering the rec room. He steps up to the couch, bending down to rest his hands on the arm next to you. “Didnae mean to scare ye.” He says softly. “Ready tae get to bed?” 

You nod. “Yeah. I am.” 

“Come on.” He holds out his hand and you take it, letting him help you up off the couch. “We’re usin’ yer shower, Si.” He says. 

Simon rolls his eyes. “Course.” 

“Simon?” You say before Johnny can pull you from the rec room. The alpha turns to look at you. “I am sorry.” 

He stares at you for a long, tense moment. “I know.” 

Johnny leads you down the hallway, his hand on your lower back. He’s gotten touchy again, letting his hand rest lower and lower on your back, brushing your breasts as he pulls the covers up around you at night. He refuses to let you shower without sitting on the toilet lid. You know the chances of Simon opening up like that again are slim, if at all. You’ve ruined that opportunity, and you’ll have to be satisfied with where he draws that line permanently. 

“Have a good conversation?” Johnny asks. 

You nod. “He called me ‘fucking stupid’.” 

Johnny nearly chokes for a second, covering his mouth to hide a laugh. “He’s certainly not a man of eloquence.” 

You shrug. “I mean, I don’t exactly disagree with him.” 

Johnny leads you into Simon’s room, steering you to the bathroom. Your stuff is already inside from the unanimous decision to solely use Simon’s bathroom for ease and also safety. 

Your towel is neatly on the rack next to Simon’s and Johnny’s, all folded the same way and hung evenly apart. Your soap and shampoo are neatly placed next to his, along with your toothbrush and other products on the sink. Always so neat and organized, despite his anger at you. 

Can’t break his system even after you break his trust. 

You pull your shirt over your head after starting the water, letting it get warm. Johnny stands behind you in the doorway, and you know he’s watching. You strip your shorts and underwear off, Johnny grunting quietly as you bend over to add them to your pile of dirty clothes. You’ve been tempted to leave them on the floor for the past two weeks just to peeve, but you’ve riled Simon up enough. With your luck he’d just toss them in the trash. 

The water is hot as it pelts your skin, your shoulders relaxing as it begins to loosen the stress of the day. The emptiness in your chest continues to eat away at you, never disappearing despite what happens. Your stomach churns, the nausea returning. You stand under the spray, letting the water pour over your head as you attempt to calm the continuous twisting in your abdomen. 

The shower door slides open, another body joining you before it slides closed. Warm skin presses against your back as arms slip around you, pulling you out from directly under the spray. You rest back against Johnny’s chest as he leans his cheek against the top of your head. 

“I miss them.” You say quietly, just audible over the shower. 

“I know.” Johnny says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“When will they be back?” You ask him, even though you know he can’t tell you. 

“Hard tae say.” He says, grabbing your strawberry scented soap from next to Simon’s. He’s just been using Simon’s soap, something you probably assume he does often anyway. “Kate will update us as soon as there’s a possible ETA.” 

“I don’t know how much longer I can take.” You say as he begins to wash your back. 

“I know.” He says, gently massaging the knots in your back, trying to help you relax. “I wish I could get them home faster. I wish it had been us instead of them for your sake.” 

His words make you feel guilty, but you both know it’s not anyone’s fault. John is your alpha, you belong to him, you were claimed by him. You’ll always hurt more about your alpha and beta’s absence than the other members of your pack can comfort you. If Simon had claimed you, things would have been different. The ache in your chest would have been less intense as you would still have an alpha you could lean on. 

You’d always miss John, but if you had Simon, the black hole slowly devouring you would have slowed its progress. 

Four weeks. 

A month. 

It's been a month since John and Kyle left. The familiar hole in your chest has widened, a gaping black hole now threatening to swallow you and string you out until you’re nothing but particles lost in its center. It’s worse than the hole Simon left when he went on his solo deployment, it’s worse than the hole they all left when they went on their first mission. Neither of those previous deployments lasted this long, and despite Johnny's attempts to console you, you don’t feel any better. 

There’s been no contact. 

A month with no contact, a month with no word. You'd know if something had happened. Even if you got no word on it, you would know. That sense that omegas have when something happens to the bond would be screaming. 

It's been a rough four weeks.

There’s a heaviness that’s started to permeate the air as you try to adjust to the prolonged absence of your alpha. It’s nearly every day that you’re breaking down now, standing in John’s room to catch any whiff of him that’s left. You’ve worn the scent off his bed, his pillows, his clothes. You’ve run out of shirts that smell like him. 

You’re terrified they might fade from your memory entirely. Kyle’s scent had disappeared quicker, fading fast until you were left unable to even picture the sea. The beach is a blurry, distant memory, the smell of the salty air faded and wiped away. 

Still you cling to their shirts, as if you can hold them through the fabric. You carry them everywhere, packing them from room to room as you float around in a daze. 

You’ve left the barracks once in four weeks for a training session that neither of them could miss. You’d gotten looks as you sat there, the sole audience member, but you're not quite sure what had happened or even what the training was far. You had been far away, lost in your own head, the haze of depression and grief numbing you to everything. 

Dr. Keller continues to visit you in the barracks, still more than you normally would see her. You miss her office, the soft warmth of it, the plants and the colors lacking from the sterilized prison that is the barracks. It has become like a prison. You’re trapped inside, unable to even wander around alone. You feel like the princess locked in her tower under the watchful eye of the guards keeping her trapped inside. You need someone to come and rescue you, someone to set you free so you can at least wander the tower alone. 

You want your alpha. 

You miss John and Kyle desperately, their absence chewing away at your insides. The hole in your chest continues to widen as the days pass, consuming more and more of you as you slip deeper and deeper into the black hole of depression. Johnny is being affected too, sucked in by the gravitational pull of the black hole you have become. Even Simon is starting to feel it, softening a bit more towards you. He’d even let your hands brush a couple of times when he’s escorted you places, and he didn’t yank them away like you might pass some disease onto him. 

You wouldn’t necessarily call him affectionate, even before all of this, but this is the first glimpse you’ve gotten of him being back to where the two of you were before you fucked everything up. You know it’s not going to happen overnight. It might never get back to what it was. He might simply be acting out of sympathy, and out of necessity because of your pain and grief being channeled through the pack bonds. Sometimes you wonder if John and Kyle can feel it too from wherever they are in the world. 

You miss them so much it hurts. 

The tears slip down your cheeks as you sit on the couch in the rec room. Johnny is off taking his turn to work out. It’s early, the sky still grey outside, the perfect epitome of how you feel inside. Simon is seated in his usual spot, book in hand. Your own that he had grabbed is still on the coffee table. You’re staring at it, tears gliding down your cheeks as you hold your knees against your chest. It’s become almost a normal occurrence, the tears, the blank staring, the lack of desire to do anything, even the position you’re seated in.

Simon glances up at you as you sniffle again, lowering his book slightly. “What?” His tone isn't annoyed per se, but you know he has to be tired of your constant blubbering. 

“Tell me they’ll be alright.” You say, your voice shaking. 

“You know I can’t-” He starts, but you cut him off. 

“I need you to tell me.” You sob, your gaze lifting to the black screen of the TV. “I can’t take it. I can’t do this.” 

He lets out a sigh, closing his book. You jump as the couch sinks down on your left, Simon taking a seat next to you. The flinch is subconscious as he reaches over to grip your chin and turn your face to look at him. Your tears slide down your cheeks, wetting his fingers. 

“They’ll be alright.” He says, eyes hard as he looks at you. He’s lying but you need to hear it. “They’ve been gone for far longer than this before. Trust Price knows what he’s doing. He’s going to do everything in his power to come back. We’ll know if something happens. Laswell will let us know.” 

You know that, you know all of it. Yet it does little to calm the pain in your chest. “I miss them.” You sob, Simon’s eyes softening as you continue to cry. “My stomach hurts.” 

You’ve been nauseous since the day the truth came out almost five weeks ago. The nausea has been churning in your stomach, making you constantly on the edge of vomiting. It’s the stress, the combination of the truth coming out and your alpha being gone. You’ve been choking food down, eating only out of necessity. 

Simon lets out a sigh, releasing your chin to wrap an arm around you. His other hand drops to rest on your stomach. It’s warm through the fabric of your shirt, applying gentle pressure. He smells like alpha, different from John, but still an alpha. The tears continue to fall as he holds you, your body slowly leaning closer and closer to him. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t even try to push you away as you fall against his side. 

Your stomach is churning, gnawing. It’s not an unusual feeling. It’s felt this way for the last few weeks. It’s never woken you up before, though. You blink in the darkness of Johnny’s room, his arm still thrown over you. The gnawing continues to intensify as you continue to be pulled from your semi-peaceful sleep, becoming more and more aware. 

You’re hungry. 

You slowly unravel yourself from Johnny’s snake-like hold, ready to slip into the rec room to peruse your snack stash. Instead you’re pulled back onto the bed by the arm that slips around your waist. 

“Where ye goin’?” Johnny rasps, still half asleep. 

“I’m hungry.” You whisper. 

He lets out a groan, letting go of you to rub a hand over his face. “Give me a minute.” 

You rise from the bed as he stretches, slowly sitting up as he draws himself from sleep. It’s just past one in the morning, neither of you having been asleep for long. You feel wide awake as the gnawing in your stomach continues to intensify. You rock back and forth on your feet, debating just going and letting him catch up. It’ll force him to wake up faster, and ease the gnawing hunger threatening to turn you inside out. 

Finally Johnny rises from the bed, stretching again as you impatiently open the door. He pads behind you to the rec room, watching as you dig out a bag of chips. He leans against the back of the couch as you stand there, devouring the chips like you haven’t eaten in days. You haven’t really eaten much in the last five weeks, so perhaps it’s finally catching up to you. You finish the bag but it’s not enough, so you grab another, devouring it halfway before you freeze. The bag begins to tremble in your hand, nearly falling from your grasp. 

Johnny is alert immediately as you begin to panic. “What?” He asks stepping closer to you, ready to defend you from whatever has you on edge. 

Your brain frantically does the math, thinking over the last few weeks. The bag falls to the floor as the realization slams into you like a bus. You turn to face Johnny, eyes wide in shock, fear shooting through you like lightning and clouding the rec room in the sour stench of omega fear.

Your lips tremble, the words stuttering out as you fight the panic rising in you, the nauseous churning of your stomach threatening to bring up the bag and a half of chips you just ate. Your fingers are shaking, clenching into fists again as they begin to go numb. Ragged breaths wheeze from your lungs as you stare at Johnny’s worried face, brows furrowed as he tries to understand what has you in a sudden panic at one in the morning. 

“My last heat was eleven weeks ago.” 

“The timeline is right,” Dr. Keller says, taking the blood pressure cuff off your arm. “The symptoms point to pre-heat.” 

You take another bite of your candy bar, eating half out of necessity and half because you’re nervous. You hadn’t even considered this when John left, but of course you didn’t know how long he would be gone. 

“Any word from John yet?” Dr. Keller asks as she packs the blood pressure monitor back into her bag. 

“None.” Johnny says, crossing his arms. “Kate sent out a message, but there’s been no response.” 

You’re numb to that fact, the hope that had filled you two days ago gone now that there’s been no word, not even for something like this. Simon had gone out of his way to call you when you needed him, but John can’t even send a simple message through, even a simple no. 

“We may have to consider alternative options if he can’t get back in time.” Dr. Keller says. 

He won’t get back in time. They’re all saying it silently. They all know it and so do you.

Your hands close into fists. You had hoped with your new pack and alpha you wouldn’t have to go through this again. But, of course with them having to put their job first, this was always a possibility. It was bound to happen eventually, you just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. 

“We’ll wait as long as we can.” Dr. Keller says, looking at you. “We don’t have forever, though.” 

You shove the rest of the candybar in your mouth. You don’t want to say anything, you don’t want to do anything. You’re numb except for the incessant hunger. You’ll know when it’s getting close, when the hunger fades and you’re facing down the reality that your alpha won’t be here. You know he won’t. Even if Kate can get ahold of him, he won’t make it back in time. 

You’re going to have to do this alone. 

Well...perhaps not. 

Maybe there is someone that can help you after all. 

You’re terrified. You’re not sure how to even approach this, how to bring it up. It’s eating you alive, but you have to ask. You have to know. That small bubble of hope still rising in you that maybe, just maybe you can avoid the horror awaiting you. It’s a big request, but perhaps you can be convincing enough to play to his pity. 

“Simon?” You ask, your hands curled into fists so they’re not visibly shaking. Your hair is dripping onto your shirt, soaking it but you don’t care. The cold is keeping you aware, keeping you from floating away into your head again. 

He grunts, looking up from his phone. You’d used the shower in his room again so he could watch you while Johnny took his own shower. You won’t sleep in here. You’ll stay with Johnny just like you have for the last almost five weeks. It’s safer, should your heat start in the middle of the night again. And also because he doesn’t want you to stay with him.

This is stupid. It’s a stupid decision but you need to know. 

What if he says yes?  

“Can I...ask you something?” You say, shifting nervously on your feet. 

He pockets his phone before pushing himself up to stand. He towers over you as he moves closer, staring down at you as you look up at him. Sometimes you forget just how big he is, just how commanding his presence can be. You fight the urge to cower, to submit to him in fear. “What?” 

The nervous lump in your throat threatens to choke you, the memories of his anger directed right at you burning right through you. What if he gets mad again? What if he reacts the same way? You can’t know what he will do, though. You steady yourself, wrapping the fabric of your shirt around your hands. 

“Will...” You clear your throat. “Will you help me through my heat?” 

It’s a big request. A huge request. You’re asking him to jump past barriers he’d kept up even before, something he’d never even suggested or hinted at wanting to do even before your last heat. You’re asking him to jump past barriers he’s put back up since your betrayal, making it clear you’re not welcome back in, you’re not going to get to where you were before. The most he’s done is let you lean against him that one night in the rec room. 

You hope maybe he’ll agree out of necessity, maybe he’ll take pity on you and save you from the horrors of going through a heat without an alpha. It may be stupid, but you’re terrified of what’s awaiting you if he doesn’t agree. You don’t want to do it, you don’t want to be put to sleep and then wake up a week later sick and disoriented, and then spend the next few days still in the same state. 

It makes your stomach churn, and not from hunger. 

His eyes widen in shock as your words register. His hands tighten into fists at his sides, his shoulders tensing. You fight the urge to flinch at the movement, the sudden hardening of his stance before you. He wasn’t expecting it, obviously. You came out of left field with it, but you have to ask. You’ll beg if you need to. You’ll get on your knees and beg like your life depends on it if he wants you to. Anything just to avoid what’s looming in the near future. 

His eyes harden as he stares down at you, and you suddenly begin to regret your decision to ask. His gaze is piercing, taking you back to when you confessed. You’ve made a mistake. You’ve made a huge mistake. 

“No.” 

The word is simple, two letters, one syllable, yet it slices right through you. You should have expected it, should have known that would be your answer, but it still hurts. He knows, he knows John isn’t coming back in time. He knows you’re going to have to do this alone. You had hoped maybe pity would push him into saying yes, maybe he’d open up a bit more before your heat started, maybe he might be merciful. 

“I can’t.” He takes a step back, then another. His gaze softens to what you almost perceive as panic. He shakes his head. “I can’t.” 

So maybe it wasn’t anger at you keeping him from agreeing. You can feel it, the edge to his scent starting to cloud it, the way his hands open and close as he squeezes them into fists over and over. 

Tears burn your eyes as you stare at him, lifting your hands so they’re laced together in front of you. You knew that would be the answer, yet you can’t stop the disappointment. “Oh.” That's all you can say. You don’t trust yourself to say much else. 

You swallow the lump in your throat as Johnny appears in the doorway, looking between the two of you before his eyes settle on you. He can tell something happened, something transpired between the two of you while he was gone. How much of it he heard, you’re not sure. Perhaps none at all judging by the look on his face. 

“Ready for bed?” He asks, his gaze cautious. He’s trying to assess the situation, figure out what could have transpired to cause such a reaction between you and his alpha. He’ll never know. Not unless Simon tells him. 

“Yeah.” You breathe, scurrying out of Simon’s room before you can make more of a fool out of yourself. 

“H-How long will it take?” You ask, your heart thudding in your chest. Your pre-heat symptoms had stopped earlier this morning, the hunger gone, the itching beginning under your skin. 

“As soon as your temperature goes up, we’ll get started.” Dr. Keller says, sticking electrodes to your chest. You’ve already got the blood pressure cuff around your arm and pulse monitor on your finger. 

“Ye were prepared for this.” Johnny says, sitting next to the hospital bed. You’re in a private room, well away from any others, even though no one will know you’re in heat. There won’t be any scent projecting, no neediness, no aching. You won’t be aware at all that anything is happening as your body rapidly cycles through that sudden flood of hormones. 

Dr. Keller nods. “This was always a possibility, so I made sure I had everything on hand for when it did happen.” She takes your temperature again. “Tell me when you start to feel warm. The last thing I want to do is send you under too late.” 

Your skin crawls at her words, memories flashing back to the time you were put under too late. You trust Dr. Keller to take care of you, though. She’s far more competent and aware than that nurse had been. It’s her job to take care of you, to watch after you in moments like this. 

You just wish you could talk to John before you go under. 

You want to remember his voice when you come back out. 

“I’ll be here the whole time.” Johnny says, taking your hand, obviously sensing your discomfort. 

He’s brought a bag of things with him, since he’ll be staying with you for the few days it’ll take to get through your heat. It won’t be as long this time, your body being forced through those hormones quickly. It won’t even register it needs a knot, flying through those symptoms. 

The wait is the worst part. It takes forever, every minute seeming to take an hour. Johnny waits dutifully by your side. You wish this wasn’t the first heat he would be here for. You wish he had at least gotten some experience with a normal heat, just so this one wouldn’t scare him off. Even Kyle might have been shaken by it, though, even with his experience. 

Eventually the heat begins to prickle under your skin, your heart rate jumping. Johnny calls in Dr. Keller, looking nervous as sweat begins to bead on your forehead. 

“It’s time.” Dr. Keller says, taking your temperature. It’s jumped quickly, your body starting to prepare for the onslaught of hormones about to be released. 

She turns your arm, hooking up the IV that will deliver the sedative as well as fluids to keep you hydrated. The heart monitor beeps rapidly as you grow nervous, Johnny squeezing your hand gently. You know he’s trying, and there’s nothing more he can really do. There’s no stopping this. It’s going to happen no matter what. 

“I’m going to administer the sedative. You’ll start to feel sleepy.” Dr. Keller says. “I’ll put in the feeding tube after you’re out.”

You swallow nervously, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. “It’ll be okay right?” 

Dr. Keller gives you a soft smile “You’ll be just fine. It’ll be a few days for us, but it’ll be a few seconds for you. It’ll be over before you know it.” 

You swallow nervously before nodding. Dr. Keller pushes the sedative through the IV, your body starting to relax as it begins to take effect. The itching under your skin stops, the heat fading as the ceiling gets further and further away as your vision tunnels. Johnny squeezing your hand is the last thing you remember before everything goes dark. 

He’s seen a lot of things, done a lot of things that would make the average person violently ill. He’s no stranger to blood and gore, yet he can’t watch as Dr. Keller inserts the feeding tube into your nose. The thought of having it in his own body makes him nearly gag, his eyes closing as he breathes. 

“I’m done.” Dr. Keller says, a small smile on her face as he turns back around. 

“About gart me boak.” He says, looking at you where you appear to be sleeping peacefully. He supposes you are, blissfully unaware of anything and everything around you.

“You’re not good with needles either, are you?” She asks, obviously noticing how he had turned away when she put in your IV. 

“Not my favorite.” He admits. 

“She’s all set.” She says, stepping back. “You’ll want to move her every few hours, turn her on one side, lift her legs up. Keeps her from getting bed sores or blood clots. I’ll be next door, and I’ll check on her periodically. If anything happens at night, I’ll have my phone on full volume.” 

“Thank ye, doctor.” He says, squeezing your hand despite the fact you can’t feel it. 

Dr. Keller takes her leave, the room going quiet aside from the beeping of the heart monitor, and the occasional buzzing of the blood pressure cuff as it tightens around your arm. He stares at you for a long moment, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest as you sleep. It’s probably the most peaceful sleep you’ve gotten in the last few weeks, despite the changes happening internally. Dr. Keller had explained it to him, the hormonal changes, how sedation works differently than going through a heat consciously. Omegas do go through heat cycles awake and aware without an alpha sometimes. Institutes cycle between isolated heats and sedation. 

The thought of you going through both makes his stomach twist. 

Sweat beads on your forehead as you lay there, something that will continue for the next few days, the doctor said. Your heart rate is higher than normal, another sign that you’re in your heat as your brain cycles through the sudden rush of hormones. He’s not quite sure what to expect, not quite sure what it’ll look like if something goes wrong. He’s never done this before, and the little research he’d done doesn’t feel all that helpful. Dr. Keller trusts him to know, though, and he supposes it’ll be pretty obvious should something go wrong. 

You’re not going to be doing much aside from laying there for the next few days. 

The hours seem to drag on and he can’t help but wonder if this is how Kyle feels during your heats. At least Kyle had a job to do, had to focus and listen for the breaks in between rounds when he’d go in, ensure nothing was wrong, nothing happened, that you’re being fed and taken care of. All he has is the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the occasional buzz and crinkling of nylon as the blood pressure cuff expands. Dr. Keller brings him meals, keeping him fed and occasionally keeps him company as he watches dutifully over you. His back is aching from the uncomfortable chair and the makeshift bed, but he can hardly complain. He’s slept on worse. 

He’s sketched a lot in the silence between watching videos on his phone and napping. It’s been a peaceful time, aside from his initial worry. You sleep away, sweat still beading on your forehead. Every so often he grabs a wet paper towel, wiping away the sweat. 

He jumps as his alarm on his phone goes off in the silence, his pencil falling to the floor. He picks it up, setting his sketchbook to the side before he gets up. He’s careful as he slips his arms under you, easing you over onto your side. He bends your legs, making sure you’re steady and not cutting off circulation anywhere. He runs a hand over your hair, the strands starting to slip out of the braid he had put in before your trip to the med center. 

He moves around to the other side of the bed, pulling the tie out before undoing the braid. He’s careful as he redoes it as best he can, making sure not to pull too tightly on the strands. The last thing you need when you wake up is to feel like your hair is being yanked out of your head. 

He ties off the braid before moving back to his seat, staring at your peaceful face for a moment. It’s nothing new to him, but he can’t help but stare. He’s seen you sleep many times, held you, watched you blissfully unaware of the world. The softness in your face, the worry and the stress and the weight on your shoulders of just being who you are gone. 

He picks his sketchbook back up, going back to drawing. 

His stomach churns nervously. There’s a subtle shake to his hands, something that doesn’t happen often. He likes to think he’s prepared for anything, conditioned enough to not be shaken by anything. Yet he can’t help but feel unsure as Dr. Keller closes off your IV. 

“She’ll be coming out of it soon.” Dr. Keller says. “She’ll be confused, disoriented. She might get combative. Your job is to talk to her, try to calm her and help ease her back into awareness. She’s a crier after heats, so I don’t doubt there will be tears. She may get sick as well.” She gives him a reassuring smile. “It’ll be alright. Coming out of a heat is hard, and so is coming out of sedation. Both at the same time is always a struggle.” 

There was a time he thought maybe sedation would be the easiest way to deal with a heat, but from what he’s hearing, he might have been wrong. Sure it might be easier in the moment to not have those week long symptoms of intense desire, the fever, the desperation. Coming out of it though? From what he’s heard so far, it’s not as easy as it sounds. He’s been through it, coming out of sedation after an injury in the field. It’s a confusing feeling, disorienting enough before you find out days or weeks have passed. It’s hard to conceptualize without all those hormones going crazy in your head. 

You start to stir, your brows pinching as you slowly begin to wake. You let out a groan, reaching for the feeding tube immediately. Dr. Keller gently pushes your hands away, nodding to Johnny. Your brows furrow deeper, a groan leaving your lips as you begin to move more and more. 

“Easy, kitten.” He says, leaning down close to you, projecting his scent so you can hopefully get a whiff of it to help calm you. “I’ve got ye. Yer alright.” He brushes your hair back from your sweaty forehead as you continue to groan. He takes your hand as you reach for the tube again, squeezing it gently.

You crack your eyes open for a moment before quickly pinching them shut. Dr. Keller reaches up, turning off the overhead light before leaning down close to you again. She’s projecting her natural beta scent as well to try and help calm you. “I’m going to remove the tube, I know it’s uncomfortable.” 

Johnny has to look away again as Dr. Keller removes the feeding tube, pressing his face into your hair as he projects his scent even more. You squeeze his hand back, the other gripping the side of the bed. You take in a harsh, gasping breath before you begin to cry, tears spilling out of your eyes as you sob. He had heard that you’re a crier after your heat from Kyle, he’s just never witnessed it before. 

It takes him back to just a few weeks ago in John’s office when you had sat there crying as they interrogated you. It had made him uneasy, the stress and the fear clouding your scent. The fear he’d felt in those moments, listening to you cry and panic, nearly sending yourself into distress before John had calmed you. He might have done more, but he had been angry, angry at whoever put those cameras in your room, and slightly at you for keeping it from them for so long. 

He can’t blame it completely on you, though. That had been back in the time where you still weren’t sure if you could trust them, before you fully opened yourself to them. Maybe they were slightly at fault for not making you feel like you could trust them, for not being realistic with you about the dangers. Sure you had been warned, had it drilled into your head why your safety was paramount, but maybe they had kept too much hidden from you. Maybe they had put you in more danger by trying to keep you safe. 

Your eyes are still pinched closed as you continue to cry, sobs wracking your body as you grip his hand tightly. It tugs at his chest as he whispers quietly against your hair, trying to get you to recognize him, pull you out of the confusion and disorientation you must be feeling. You begin to hyperventilate, your hand slipping from his as you try to push yourself up. Dr. Keller already has the bed lifting, her other hand holding a vomit bag in front of you. It seems almost instinctual, but she’s been through this many times before. She had told him how many during one of their talks, when he’d asked her how long she's been working with omegas. He hadn’t realized just how little he really knew about your doctor before now. 

Johnny has to look away as you vomit into the bag, his own stomach churning. Not just because of you being ill, but also because of how distressing this all seems. How you haven’t gone into distress is a miracle to him, but perhaps you’re still too out of it to be that aware. 

Your breathing has calmed just slightly, your forehead beaded with sweat. Dr. Keller removes the vomit bag from in front of you, grabbing another and setting it on your lap. 

“I’m going to dispose of this.” She says. “She’s going to be sick for a while. I’ll grab more fluids and I’ll be back shortly.” 

Johnny nods, wiping at the sweat on your brow. You lean into his touch, letting out a quiet whine. His touch is gentle, almost scared he might hurt you in your fragile state. You’re still crying, the tears cascading down your cheeks. His chest hurts, guilt and sorrow churning inside of him from seeing you in this state. All thought that sedation was the best option goes out the window as he holds the vomit bag for you, keeping your braid out of the way. 

Kyle had told him about what it was like during your heat and after, partially to feed his curiosity, but also in case something like this happened where he had to be the one taking care of you. He’d heard about the pain, the tears, the disorientation. This is different, though. This is far worse than what Kyle had described to him. 

Dr. Keller returns, IV bag in hand. She removes the empty bag and replaces it with the full one, hooking it up to your IV. You have to be thirsty after a few days of having nothing but a feeding tube and the fluids to keep you going during your fever. 

Johnny catches her hand as she pulls out a syringe, small enough to be discreet. Something tickles in the back of his mind as he stares at it, his instincts on edge. 

“What is that?” He asks, starting to get defensive, his metaphorical hackles rising.  

“Pain medicine.” She says simply, handing it to him. She has to be able to read him, sensing the sudden protectiveness wafting off of him. 

He takes the syringe, reading the label. Morphine. He feels silly for distrusting the doctor. She’s never proven herself untrustworthy. While he knows they can’t be too trusting of anyone, she’s never done you any harm, never given them a reason to suspect her. She wouldn't hurt you, not after the dedication he’s seen from her these last few days alone. 

“She might need it later once she’s more aware.” She continues, taking the syringe back when he hands it to her, putting it back in her pocket. “Her body just went through an intense hormonal cycle and those hormonal levels are now dropping suddenly. It can cause a wide range of symptoms from crying to illness to physical pain. When omegas are allowed to go through that cycle naturally, usually with an alpha, the symptoms of coming down from that cycle are typically less severe compared to when sedation is used, of course besides the physical pain. The pain with sedation is obviously quite different from the pain when the cycle happens naturally with an alpha.” 

Johnny’s brows furrow as he rests his hand over yours, your breaths stuttering through your sobs. Your hands are clutching at the blanket, one of yours he’d grabbed from your room in hopes the familiar comfort might help you through the process. He hates that you’re in pain like this, he hates that you’re in pain at all. He’s beginning to feel the bubbling anger deep in his stomach at Simon for letting you endure this. He has no idea. He’s isolated himself for your safety, and he’ll never get to see what this is like, what you’re going through right now. 

Dr. Keller says your name softly, leaning against the side of the bed, electing to ignore the swirling emotions of her fellow beta. He’s not her concern, you are. “Can you open your eyes for me?” 

You continue to cry, but you manage to get your eyes opened, squinting at her through your tears. Dr. Keller takes your face in her hands, using her thumbs to gently pull down your lower lids, trying to get a good look at your eyes. You try to jerk away, letting out possibly the cutest defiant sound Johnny has ever heard, and he might have reacted had it been a different situation. Instead he leans over the side of the bed again, talking to you quietly so you calm a bit. You do relax at the sound of his voice, his scent projecting even more to try and comfort you, bring you back into reality. 

“There we go.” Dr. Keller says, looking at your eyes before she gives you a soft smile. “Welcome back.” She removes her hands from your face leaning against the bed rail again. “It's all over. You did perfectly.”

You let out another groan, lifting a hand weakly before letting it drop back against your stomach. 

“I know you're thirsty.” Dr. Keller says. “I'll get you some soon. We need to make sure your stomach has settled for now.” 

Your eyes squeeze closed as you start to cry again, your inhales shaky as the tears start sliding down your cheeks. Johnny shushes you gently, petting your hair. Sweat still drips down your face, your hands curling around the edge of the blanket. 

You try to push yourself up to sit, Dr. Keller immediately understanding what you need again as she lifts the vomit bag up to your mouth.

Johnny peels your hand from around the blanket, holding it tightly. His own stomach is churning but he swallows it back, bringing your hand up to his face. He kisses the back, the skin clammy and warm to the touch. Your scent is a swirl of things he’s never smelled before, drowning out the natural sweetness. Kyle had mentioned how your scent and John’s change during the heat and after. He hardly recognizes it right now, and he finds himself missing the sweet scent of strawberries. 

Your fingers squeeze around his as you lay back against the bed, eyes cracked open and sniffling as the tears continue to slide down your cheeks. You let out a groan, tugging weakly at his hand. 

“Hi kitten.” He says, leaning over the bed rail again. “Yer alright. Get ye feeling better soon.” 

Your inhale is shaky, catching in your chest. You weakly tug his hand towards your face pressing your sweaty cheek against his skin. You nuzzle against his hand, your tongue darting out to lick his skin. He can't help but chuckle, wiping at a tear that falls with his thumb. You’re still out of it, but he knows that’s a sign that you’re starting to come through, starting to come back to yourself through the haze. 

You let out a long groan as you pull away from his hand, licking at your lips. They're horribly chapped, almost rivaling Simon's, but at least you have an excuse.

“Thirsty?” Dr. Keller asks, returning to the bedside with a cup of water. “Drink slowly, you'll get sick again.” She warns, holding the straw up to your lips. 

You manage to do as she says and take small sips of the water despite how thirsty he knows you must be. Johnny keeps caressing your face with his thumb, your fingers still laced with his. 

“Let me get your vitals.” Dr. Keller says, setting the cup of water on the table. You let out a groan in protest, smacking your lips, obviously wanting more. “You can have more in a minute. Too much on your stomach could upset it, and I’m sure the last thing you want to do right now is get sick again.”

You let out a quiet grunt, leaning your cheek against his hand once again. Your skin is still a bit warm to the touch, but that could just be from the exertion of trying to come out of sedation and being sick. Dr. Keller takes your vitals once more, recording them on her sheet. She’s been tracking them your entire heat, using them to judge how far along you are since she doesn’t have the benefit of you being awake to track the symptoms that way. He had wondered why she tracked them on paper, but then he remembered John telling him about how Shepherd had requested all of your private records and Dr. Keller’s notes. 

She is smart. He’ll give her that. 

“Things look good, even if you might not feel like it right now.” She says.

You try to shift on the bed but you let out a quiet groan, freeing your hand from his. 

“Hurting?” Dr. Keller asks.

You nod, letting out a whine. It tickles in the back of his brain, his beta wanting to reach out and comfort you, but he knows he can’t. He can’t ease the physical pain. One downside to beta evolution. Their ancestors never learned how to fix physical pain. Maybe that would have made them too perfect. All he can do is try to comfort you through it. 

“Let's get some pain meds in you.” She says, pulling the syringe out of her pocket again. “Then we can get you somewhere more comfortable.”

She injects the pain medicine through your IV, giving it a few minutes to begin working before disconnecting you from all the machines. Johnny helps her get you in a sweatshirt, wanting to keep you warm. You are shaking, though what that might be related to he’s not sure. Perhaps everything. 

Dr. Keller hands him the cup of water. “Keep her drinking. I'll go grab a car, then we can get her back to the barracks.” 

You feel far too light in Johnny’s arms as he carries you from the car into the barracks. Simon is nowhere to be seen, though he hadn’t expected a welcome back party from his alpha. He’s probably still hiding out in his office, or in the gym, his usual hiding spot. Johnny is kind of glad he’s not here, though he would like to rub it in his face, the decision he’d made. 

Johnny takes you to his room, still avoiding yours. It’s almost like a crime scene, Johnny tempted to take it off. He knows placing you in there might make you panic when you wake up after everything. That’s the last thing he wants. So instead he takes you to the place you’ve spent the last almost six weeks in, somewhere you’ll recognize the scent and be comfortable when you wake up. 

You roll onto your side as soon as he lays you down, curling up on his blankets. He drapes yours over you, tucking it around your shoulders before he steps back out into the hallway. 

“Keep her hydrated. Lots of water, tea, clear sodas.” Dr. Keller instructs him. “She'll be drowsy for a while because of the pain medicine. Give her a couple hours and once the pain meds wear off and her stomach settles a bit, try her with some bland foods. She did well with mashed potatoes after her last heat. She’s going to be out of it and sick for a few days. Keep an eye out for anything abnormal. Vomiting blood, can’t keep food down, if she complains about pain somewhere or is hard to wake, give me a call.” 

“Got it.” Johnny nods, committing everything she’s told him in the last ten minutes to memory. 

“You did really well.” She says, giving him a soft smile. “You should be proud of yourself.” 

“Thank you, doctor.” He nods, internally beaming at her praise. 

“Keep me updated, and don’t be afraid to call.” She says. 

He watches her walk to the door, Simon’s door opening as soon as she’s gone. He at least looks guilty, like the shame is eating him alive. Johnny hasn’t seen him like this in a long time, not since he caused you to distress. It makes him a little too happy to see him in such a state. 

“How is she?” He asks, not moving from in front of his door. 

The sound of you vomiting into a vomit bag reaches their ears. Simon at least has the decency to flinch at the sound. It’s subtle, probably unnoticeable had Johnny not been able to read his alpha like a book. 

“Sick.” He says, trying to hide his anger and disappointment. They’re complex feelings. He knew Simon would turn you down if you asked for his own reasons, but now after seeing what happens when there’s no alpha available during a heat, he almost hates Simon for doing this to you. “Confused. Still a bit out of it.” 

“You know I couldn’t do it.” Simon says, using that uncanny ability to read everyone around him. 

Johnny hates it sometimes.

He turns to glance at you through his open door as you continue to be sick. You’re going to be miserable for the next few days, likely more than you are usually after your heats. This one will be less physical pain after taking knots for a week straight, and more pain from being sedated, pain from being mostly immobile, pain from just being alive and carrying this status. Such pain omegas live with, physically, mentally, emotionally. 

He hates it. 

“Ye don’t know what it was like.” He says, his hands closing into fists. “Seeing her like that.” 

You let out a long whine, a sob tearing from your chest as you inhale. Tears prick behind Johnny’s eyes as he holds Simon’s gaze. “Ye just had to say no.” He shakes his head, turning to go back into his room. 

He doesn't want to tell you. He can see the look on your face already. The disappointment. The pain. The agony. He can smell the souring of your scent already, the painful grief filling it and there will be nothing he can do to ease it. It's a rare moment they've left you alone in the last month and a half, forced to after a call with Kate and Shepherd.

He's not even sure how to approach it. 

He opens his bedroom door slowly, his stomach clenching as he looks in at you. You're on the bed, wrapped in a blanket where he left you, cuddled against your big bear. He doesn't want to wake you, especially not for this but he has to. He has no choice. You have to know. 

He lets out a sigh as he sinks down on the edge of his bed, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. “Kitten?” He shakes you gently. “Kitten, wake up.”

You inhale sharply, startling awake despite his attempt to be gentle. There’s a sharp spike of fear in your scent for a moment as you’re yanked from sleep suddenly, but it fades as soon as you realize where you are and who is with you. You turn over onto your back, winding up resting against his knee as you rub your eyes. 

“Johnny?” You croak, still partly asleep. 

“Si and I just got off a call with Kate.” He says carefully, not wanting to scare you too much. 

You're wide awake immediately, pushing yourself up to sit. You swallow nervously, your scent already souring. “What is it?” Your voice wavers as you ask, eyes already shining with tears. 

“John and Kyle are fine.” He says, regretting not starting with that. He can see the temporary relief on your face. “But, they need some backup for this one.” 

It takes a moment for your brain to process his words. A hole tears through the center of his chest as he watches the realization hit, your face falling as your scent begins to sour even more. Your arms wrap around yourself as you stare at him, the relief gone from your face as you stare at him. He swallows the lump in his own throat, your scent causing his beta to stir, the drive to comfort you itching in his brain. He can’t though, he can’t comfort you through this. 

Your voice shakes, a tear sliding down your cheek as you figure out what it is he woke you to say, why Kate had called. Your inhale is shaky, catching in your chest before you speak. 

“You're both leaving too, aren’t you.” 

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[starlit-mansion]

thinking for no reason about the trend cycles of popularity and public scapegoating, and how it's really hard to be immune from them, and in many senses, you should not try to be immune from them, but also remain critical, and i think the main points i'm coming to is 1) if you didn't like someone for arbitrary/aesthetic reasons and then you find out something that justifies your dislike (especially something that was completely unrelated to the thing that was annoying you), that does NOT justify your dislike of them and you CAN'T let yourself do the intellectually lazy thing and do the magic pie bush association of "my revulsion is an indicator of someone being a bad person," 2) even if you love to be a hater, or have really legit reasons for hating someone, you should be extremely judicious about making fun of an actual person part of your brand, and 3) you cannot let a single person be an emblem of everything you hate about a cultural moment, that is a deep and unfair cruelty and also intellectually lazy

[quarterlifekitty]

first, im a bit new to cod but idk…

thinking about ghost’s spouse visiting him on base or some shit, and everyone else wondering how tf he was emotionally flexible enough to bag a bad bitch 🫶

note: this is just my personal little fantasy world headcanon lol so take it with a grain of salt!

Simon maintains a vaguely human lifestyle by adhering to one very strict rule: rigid compartmentalization. You don’t come up at work, and work doesn’t come up around you. Never the twain shall meet, he thinks. And he’s not exactly a watershed of information when he’s with his mates. And it’s not like anyone is asking “When was the last time you got fucked, Ghost?” and seriously expecting a response.

He tells you about the crew, but not about what he does with them. Killing, espionage, torture– that kind of thing stays off the dinner table.

Let it be known that you do not surprise him at work. You respect his boundaries too much, which is why he’s so fucking serious about you, honestly. He calls, asking if you can run something to him. This is maybe the greatest symbol of trust he can bestow, as a man who has only a fraction of an existence in the eyes of the government: he asks you to bring a document of his. He gives you the instructions on how to find it, and trusts that you won’t look at anything you don’t have to.

You know Johnny lets out a low whistle when he sees you coming up with a manilla folder in your hands.

“Who’s that bloody bombshell, then?”

You spy Simon and jog up to him with a smile. He’s the one who embraces you, short but strong. Cue the nigh audible gasping.

“LT, you absolute dog.”

Simon rolls his eyes as the two of you are crowded in short order. You make polite introductions, but have a previous engagement– you really did only have time to stop by.

Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave.

Everyone is wondering how this could’ve happened. For the record– I think in this scenario, Johnny and Gaz go through a constant string of heartbreaks, and John is kinda married to his job. So in a cruel twist of fate, Simon is actually the only one currently with a partner, much less a spouse.

“How’d you manage to bag a right beauty like that, LT? C’mon, spill it–”

Simon doesn’t mean to diminish your value or anything, but his answer is not going to be satisfying, because he doesn’t find it that difficult to get women. And also, you’re his true love, so you’re perfect for each other and growing close to you was as easy as breathing. But he doesn’t say that.

“S’not that hard. Remember the stuff she says, don’t keep no secrets… dick ‘er down the way she likes.” He doesn’t mean to be crude about it, but from his perspective, is one of the main reasons why you tolerate him. Soap howls at the response.

He’s telling the truth, though! He has a scarily good memory. Remembers every friend you’ve ever told him about, every movie you’ve ever mentioned, every meal he’s cooked for you and how you liked it. He remembers dates, times, and lists with no issue whatsoever.

And he’s never kept anything from you. He tells you how the fuck he’s feeling, and you return the favor, even if it isn’t pleasant. The only thing he doesn’t mention to you are the gorey details of his work.

And you have never had more of a communicative partner, ironically. There were times in the beginning when he didn’t know all of the ins and outs of coaxing pleasure from your body, so he asked you to show him how you like it. And that scary memory is at work yet again– every sensitive spot, every offhand mention of a kink you’ve not yet explored together, every arch of your spine and clench of your cunt. He’s got it down to a science. Could write novels about making love to you specifically.

What I’m trying to say, at the end of the day, is that Ghost bagged a bad bitch by being autistic.

[princessbrunette]

deer!reader who prunes in the bath for hours everytime she’s upset. this time it was jj’s fault, and he’d admit it. he was meant to pick her up from work and take her out to eat — but he got caught up in pogue stuff and forgot.

he lets himself into her home knowing her family were away. usually when he did so, her skittish footsteps would come sliding along the hallway, barrelling into him quietly rambling about how she can recognise the pattern of his footsteps which is how she knew it was him — but now the house was too quiet. he could hear the pipes churning however, and distantly if he listened close enough — the dripping of the taps upstairs.

she stares ahead when he enters, still wearing a face full of makeup from her day as she reclines in the bath tub. if she were in a different mood, she’d comment on how very sofia coppola the whole thing was— but she was sad, and feeling neglected, so instead she huffs subtly out her nose, not wanting to acknowledge the blonde.

“okay so… i messed up.” he begins carefully as he creeps into the room. “y’know i was actually like, super looking forward to seeing you i just… i lost track of the time. you know how bat shit crazy john b has been lately over this whole treasure thing.” he exasperates, dragging his feet over to the side of the bath. out the corner of your eye, you can see him rubbing at his chest nervously. it almost made you feel guilty.

you say nothing. as much as you wanted to do the mature thing and communicate how it made you feel, how all of it had been making you feel lately — you feel to indulge the pettier side to you instead. perhaps if you acted uncharacteristically and gave him the silent treatment, he’d see you meant business. he presses his lips together, nodding and yanks his hat off, dropping it by his feet.

“nothing? okay uh… i deserve that.” he ticks his head, staring at you in thought for a moment before lowering himself to his knees besides the tub. the water sways as you shuffle slightly, the dripping sound the only noise present in the room for a second. “how can i make it up to you? i’m here now so, let me.” his gaze is serious, brows raised at your side profile.

you don’t offer him a response, not directly anyway. you simply cast your eyes down with a sad sigh. maybank bites his lip in thought before standing on his knees, moving as close as he could. stroking your cheek with his thumb, he stared wistfully. the thumb travels to tuck itself beneath your bottom lip, and you try not to preen into his touch. noticing your resistance, he thinks for a moment longer before pushing his sleeve up, sinking his arm into the warm water.

“i don’t like it when you’re sad, bamb. makes me all sad. think i got a few ideas on how to apologise though.” he speaks quietly, in that lower tone that only you get to hear. he smiles when his hand touches your thigh and you bashfully spread them beneath the water without any convincing. “that’a girl.” he hums.

fingers trailing up your thigh toward your centre, he continues to stare at you, eyes occasionally jumping to his hand. your breath hitches and you try to hold your resistance and be strong, but you missed his touch and it’s hard. without having to tell him that he nods. “i know.” he drawls, the southern twang comforting you. “messed up real bad, huh?”

you nod, and he takes the slight communication as a win, knowing he’s buttering you up. the water splashes lightly when he reaches your cunt, gently massaging your clit beneath the water. a shaky breath leaves you and his teeth find his bottom lip again, concentrated. “i’on even deserve t’touch you but… s’the least i can do. gotta give the princess her princess treatment n’stuff.” he comments, and you relax further into the tub, a quiet whimper leaving you as your legs spread wider. “mmhm.” he responds.

this continues for a little while longer before you can’t take it and you speak.

“you need to make time for me.” you whisper and he nods, eyes wide and almost innocent.

“i gotta make way more time for you. gonna clear my whole schedule bae.” he sounds desperate, and you’re glad he’s understanding. your brows furrow, panting, feeling too hot in the water now.

“jj.” you enquire and his eyes don’t leave you, nodding again.

“yes— yeah?”

“take me out the bath. wan’you to fuck me on the bed.” you mewl quietly, ashamed at how fast you broke.

“yes ma’am.” he wastes no time, hand leaving you to yank the plug from the bath, tripping over and falling onto his knees when he attempts to get up and run to grab you a towel.

[on-leatheredwings]

Secret Admirer

Yandere! Dick Grayson / Yandere! Green Lantern! Gender Neutral Reader

> romantic > tw/cw: yandere behaviors. Kissing. Heavy petting. > rated M > summary: You should stop playing with fire. Because when you do, you make him want to be crazy. Crazier. And Dick’s worked really, really hard to wrap those habits up. > a/n: wow nothing truly despicable in this one i’m so vanilla now <3 the reader is male to me but feel free to imagine what you want. I rlly like writing pre-yandere + pre-relationship stuff, it’s so fun . may write more for actual smut possibilities > word count: 1472

Newly-acquired powers or not, you are really poking the bear here. 

Dick has known you've been following him since yesterday. He allowed it because who was he if not a performer? He thrived on attention, and especially yours. But today, you had gotten too close to a fight. Sure, you had stayed an appropriate distance away, but the fact it had happened at all was worrying. It made him distracted. Distracted enough that he wasn’t pulling his punches on criminals like usual. 

“Now that it’s getting quite late–” he begins, to which you audibly gasp. An adorable sound. “–how about you finally come out and let me help you?”

He turns around to a swath of darkness that paints the rooftop’s entry door in black shadow.

Behind the corner, you curse. Damn it, he caught you. … Well, you could’ve told yourself this would happen. Dick, the fine friend he was, surely said it would. No one really ‘sneaks up’ on one of the Bats. And definitely not Nightwing, the most tenured of them all aside Batman himself.

You got caught, and lord knows what Nightwing will do to you. You bite your lips, mind running wild. Who knows what Nightwing will do to you, indeed? You feel a pang of arousal at the thought. 

You step out of the shadows, trying to act natural. Nightwing’s eyes lock onto your humble form, and you find yourself warming over every inch of your body. You want him bad.

His body stiffens, for reasons you can’t discern. It doesn’t seem like hostility… you think?

You adjust your domino mask, cursing silently that the adhesive is finally starting to give after a long night of following him around. Stealth isn’t really a natural gift for a Green Lantern, either. Turning down your glow while using your powers to maintain soundless stalking was hard. Harder than expected. 

“What are you doing here?”

You smile, hoping your giddy expression is hidden by the hoodie you’ve chosen to wear on your escapade. 

It certainly is not, which makes Dick pleased.

Now that you've made contact with him, his first thought is that he ought to tell Batman about this. And the rest of the team, while he’s at it. Dick Grayson knows that Nightwing is your 'celebrity' crush, and that you're enamored with the rest of the Bat Family. What if you confronted them someday as well?

On the Batcomputer is a file on John Stewart, complete a footnote that is you. Said footnote has graduated to its own page, now that you have your own hero exploits to document. They'd be less welcoming and more wary of a hero on their turf. He has to protect you.

“I… I…” you croak, tongue heavy with anxiety. You can’t help but be nervous. 

“Sometime tonight?” he teases. 

“You’re beautiful,” you blurt.

He is taken aback, before he recollects his wits. 

“I really like you,” you say again, stepping forward. He lifts his hand in warning. Stay back. You get chills, but don’t stop treading forward. You can tell his eyes are narrowed beneath his mask.

When he’s finally in arms’ reach, you are pushed against the wall. And not roughly at all, you notice. You smile with delight, your hands immediately landing on his shoulders. Nightwing’s glare doesn’t feel hostile at all. Suspicious, maybe. But not hostile.

“... What do you mean by, you “really” like me?” You suspected that he probably wouldn’t believe you.

“Well,” you fluster, “I mean that I really like you.” Dick’s heart jolts. “And I want you.” It nearly flatlines.

Oh, don’t say that, don’t say that, Dick thinks, despite the elation that begins to tighten his throat. You? Want him? If he had known all he needed to do to grab your attention was put on the suit, he would’ve done that ages ago. He felt nearly invisible to you during the day, all his flirtation falling on deaf ears and blind eyes.

At Nightwing’s silence, you lick your lips. An action that makes his eyes dilate behind his mask. 

“I-I’m serious!”

Nightwing leans in closer, as if inspecting the truth in your expression, raking over every atom. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he breathes.

“It’s not a game at all to me,” you say, feeling lightheaded from the small distance between you two. This doesn't feel real.

To love and be loved is all you’ve ever wanted. You’d think that would give you the violet ring of Love. Instead, the ring that had appeared in your hand one fateful night was acid green, sparkling and mesmerizing. Apparently, instead of embodying love, you simply were driven enough to seek it at any costs. Driven enough to never be alone ever again.

You have the ability to overcome great fear. Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps, it said. You had taken it without hesitation.

“Kiss me,” you say, hands rising to cup his jaw. As if he’s not already leaning in.

Your lips meet in an unabashed frenzy. You’re nearly blown away by the pure amount of feeling in his kiss – that's quite a lot of emotion for a stranger. Not that you aren’t equally impassioned. You feel so raw and naked, kissing him. You hope he can't feel all your insanity, your obsession, your infatuation.

However, Dick certainly does, so much that he moans openly, the sound making both your lips buzz.

You make him want to be crazy. Crazier. And he’s worked really, really hard to wrap those habits up. 

You shudder, feeling the pressure of his cup press in between your thighs. God, you wished you could feel the real thing. Your hand slips in between you two, tracing the lines of his abs. Dick shivers. He peels off your domino mask, but you don’t even flinch. You don’t care if he knows who you are. You want him to know everything. Inside and out.

Your eyes flutter open as you gyrate against his hips, sinful and frustrating. You peer up at him, cheeks blazing. You want him.

He looks into your eyes, and it's as if he can read your mind. He wants to swallow you whole. He wants to map every inch of your body. His cock is painfully straining against his suit. You are not a want, but a need.

But Dick is trying to be good, he really is. The night’s not over. He’s still on patrol, technically. You may want Nightwing, but do you want Dick Grayson? If he fucked you on this rooftop, throwing restraint into the wind, would that be taking advantage of you? Do you just hero worship him? All the questions fly through his mind at rapid speed, and he wants them to quiet, before the Angry Orphan inside him decides to just stop caring completely. 

But he… he’s strong. We don't have to be, his mind interjects, screaming at him. But he quiets it. He whimpers at the tightness against his groin, a sound that makes you look at him curiously. You are completely blissfully ignorant to his inner strife. Completely innocent.

Dick narrows his eyes, channeling his best Batman impression.

“You should go home.”

You balk almost comically. “W-wait.” Nightwing retreats, but not before you can grab his wrist. “At least– at least, can we go on a date? Or even hang out? Or–” His thumb traces the curve of your lips, silencing you with a shiver.  

“Go home.” Firmly said, yet gentle.

You frown, though it’s more like a pout. Man, you’re cute, he thinks. “When can I see you again?”

Dick certainly isn’t strong enough to be responsible and say “You can’t.” 

So Nightwing just stares at you, looking… hesitant. The pieces click in your mind. Ah, so he liked it. Your lips curl, like a cat with cream. You take that as a victory.

“... I-I’ll come back tomorrow night,” you state boldly, stealing a chaste kiss before he could argue. Dick has to basically pull himself away, despite his desire to keep your bodies flush and perfectly fitted against one another.

You slip your ring onto your finger, and your entire body glows, rampant with Lantern light. You begin to float.

“Tomorrow!” you blurt, already wanting him again. You zip away, flying home. All the while, you slap at your warm cheeks, trying to see if this is a dream, laughing with glee, mind going haywire with heated fantasies. You kissed Nightwing. You basically groped him. And he didn’t stop you. Oh god, wait until you tell Dick. 

The confrontation went better than expected. At worst, you figured Nightwing would shoo you away, reject you. Despite the abrupt ending, he at least seemed… interested? You try not to dwell on it too much. It doesn’t matter.

You’re a Green Lantern. You’re powerful. Willful. He will be yours, someday.

[gatorbites-imagines]

John Constantine x tattoo artist?? Smut or no (you choose!) I think it would be cute if john gets his tats from the reader (also kind of a possessive/marking quality there lol)

John Constantine x Tattoo artist male reader

Headcanons

Sorry there’s been no posts this week, classes have started up again, so as you can imagine I’m exhausted and have a lot less free time. I’ve been using most of my free time to read JJK, ngl.

Imagine being a magical tattoo artist, something like a seal maker. You do large complex and beautiful pieces, but you hide different seals and protection markers inside the patterns. It keeps the real purpose of the tattoo a secret, but is also pretty to look at.

John already has tattoos in the hellblazer comics, but imagine you giving him different ink. Something a lot less obvious and more attractive.

It makes him pass as a hot blonde British guy covered in a lot of fancy ink, instead of some brit with lotsa weird cult looking tattoos.

John becomes one of your most common customers, mainly because a lot of the tattoos you put on him disappear after the seals been used, since its all defense and storage. He might also use it as an excuse to see you more, so he can flirt.

John being John, would get a tattoo right above his crotch, think like a reverse tramp stamp, or a succubus tattoo, just so he can have you sitting between his thighs as he gives his flirting his all.

You definitely end up railing him within an inch of his life in the tattoo chair, tsking and “punishing” him for straining the tattooed area too much, and “messing up your work” when he writhes too much.

In the beginning its just a friends with benefits situation, something like a “happy ending” you might say. John wouldn’t be someone to do relationships for the most part, since most of the ones he’s been in haven’t ended great.

He subconsciously also wouldn’t want to paint a target on your back, since hes always involved with all kinds of stuff. But he cant help but always find himself back with you, getting some new seal inked onto his skin.

And if every visit ends up with him bent over the tattoo chair, or down on his knees to “thank you”, then who will judge him.

John would end up finally acknowledging his feelings when you save him from his big bad of the week, using your complex and intricate tattoos to pull out weapons and spells, and later seal the being that’s after him.

Its hard to deny how he feels after that, and though he wouldn’t put it into words, he would act differently. Like just showing up at your parlor to spend time with you without getting anything done, or sending you little protection charms or trinkets.

At some point you guys just start kissing and acting like a couple, without actually putting a name to it. It’s a dangerous life you both live, and words mean everything, so you never tell anybody you guys are lovers, since that would make the target on you both even bigger.

It doesn’t keep you guys from pretty much living together and acting all domestic, or being completely exclusive to just each other. John turning down all advances made on him confuses people in the beginning, until they just come to accept it.

John ends up with even more tattoos, these a lot more complex than average useable seals. These are the kinds that you have spent your entire life developing, and had only used on yourself because they’re that powerful.

The league are knocked back by how powerful his spells have become, and how much damage he can withstand. Only other magic users with the knowledge know just how amazing his tattoos are. He never tells them where he got them, just because he’s an ass.

You end up helping out more with his business, and he ends up being free advertisement for your parlor. Of course, no one gets tattoos like you or John, you would never give a possible enemy that kind of power, but it helps pad your pockets quite a lot.

John’s enemies end up targeting you as well, but they’re easily dealt with for the most part.

He ends up getting teased be friends and allies that he’s getting soft and domestic, cuz he doesn’t go out to bars like before, and wants to be home in time to watch a movie with you, or just go to sleep together.

He ends up a lot less stressed too, since you rock his world whenever he needs it, and become someone he can let down his defenses and just be vulnerable with.

In the end he probably gets pavloved to get in the mood when you tattoo him, or he hears the noise of the tattoo gun. John always blames you for making him this way, because you always go down on him after giving him new ink, not that he’s complaining.

[indecisivekitty]

“I’m home, love!” Price calls out, taking his shoes off before cracking his neck. Long day at base. Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get out of his uniform. Setting his bag down, he frowns when he notices you haven’t replied or came to greet him. Were you sick?

With worry beginning to cloud his brain, he hastily walks to the bedroom, silently praying you didn’t have a fever and were too weak to get up. Opening the door slowly, he softly spoke, “Love, are you alri-”

Ah, and there you were, his pretty little wife, with half of your face buried in a pillow as your ass was the air, fingers stuffed deeply in that wet cunt of yours. So lost in trying to pump your fingers faster that you didn’t notice Price slowly walking up to the bed.

“You sweet girl,” he cooed, crouching beside the bed to make eye contact with you, one hand reaching out to push some hair out your sweaty face. He tsked, “What are we gonna do with you, ay?”

You whined as he stroked your face. “You want me to fuck that slick cunt of yours, huh? Is that it?”

Tears started to prick at your eyes, you were exhausted from trying to cum on your own. So needy but you couldn’t fuck yourself right without your husband. “John,” you spoke, your voice all wobbly. He face softened as he rubs your cheek, humming in reply to his name. “Need you inside me so bad.”

“That so, birdie? Need my cock to fill you up, hm? Gotta stuff that poor pussy with my thick cock.” His words were soft and comforting. Don’t worry, he was going to take good care of you, pretty bird. A small smile danced on his lips at the sight of you. “I’ll fuck you good and deep, love. It’s alright, I’m here now.”

Price leaned in to give your forehead a kiss before standing up to fully undress. Not fast, not slow. There wasn’t any rush but he didn’t want to torture you any longer. Stepping out of his boxers, he climbs on the bed and gently guides you to your back. Stealing a kiss before grabbing his cock to slowly ease into you. Forehead on yours as his hand finds its way to your hand, intertwining your fingers.

“Christ, you always take me so well,” he rasped, already picking up the pace after a few thrusts to pound deep into your needy cunt. He cursed, burying his head into your neck, sucking and biting at the skin. “Gonna breed you so nice, yeah? You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me filling you up with all my cum.”

You cried out as he started to fuck you harder, your hands reaching to claw at his neck and back, tangling themselves into his hair after. “J-John!”

He leaned up on his elbows, taking in your cock drunk face. You looked so pretty with your mouth open, broken moans leaving your hickey ridden throat. “Squeeze that cunt while you take my dick- shit you take it so nicely. That’s it, love. Fuckkk, that’s it.” Sitting up, Price grabbed your hips to thrust into you faster, his grip tightening. Only the slapping from your bodies and moans echoed in the room along with the slick, wetness dripping from your pussy. “Sloppy fucking cunt feels so good wrapped around me. Jesus Christ. Wait, wait-”

Pulling out, he quickly flips you over to your stomach, grabbing a pillow to place under your hips before he slams back into your pussy. You moaned out loudly, bending one knee and immediately feeling John sink deeper into your pussy. He exhaled harshly, groaning out, “Fucking hell, love.”

You clawed at the sheets, mewling as you feel him hit that one spot. Sweat dripped down your face while you let out a gasp from John slapping your ass, the sting burning you. “Please, please, come inside me, John.”

He slapped your ass again, massaging it after the smack. “Want my cum, birdie? Need me to cum in this pussy, hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babbled. Too high off the feeling of Price fucking his cock into you. You can’t even think straight, babbling for Price to cum in your pussy. Throwing his head back, John groans as he feels himself start to cum inside you.

Just looking down at himself thrusting into you was enough for him to start shooting his load into your cunt. Cum started to leak out, soaking the sheets and his cock every time he pushed back in. His voice was rough, “Have to fuck my cum back into you, can’t let you waste a drop.” Taking a finger to wipe his dripping cum, he holds it to your mouth for you to happily suck it clean, swallowing his cum like a good girl.

Slow thrusts as he spreads your ass to watch himself fuck into you. Fuck, he should send a video of you both doing this again to the guys.

Rubbing his hands all over you, he sighs contentedly. “Did so well for me, love.”

You hummed sleepily, murmuring a sweet, “I love you, John.”

Leaving kisses on your back, he says back, “I love you, birdie.”

John doesn’t know how long he spent slowly thrusting in and out of your cunt. He does remember grabbing his phone to record him stuffing his cum back into you, though.

To: TF141

Thought you lads would enjoy this. The missus says hello.

> IMG_0625.mov

| Video 56.9 MB |

a/n: no not edited can’t be bothered wasn’t suppose to be this long tho idk

if something is wrong or doesn’t make sense pls tell me so i can fix it bc i’m exhausted and i don’t think i wrote this while fully awake

[jaidens]

so if it'd make you stay i wouldn't act so angry all the time

pairing [s] : dean winchester x reader

warning [s] : mentions of : stitching, knives, cuts + blood | kissing

a/n [s] : requests r open!

The hunt had gone wrong. What was supposed to be an easy, short hunt turned into a violent rage of angry werewolves on the hunt for people. You had managed to get away with a few cuts and bruises, the same was done for Sam, but Dean got the bad part of the fight in an attempt to protect you two.

He sits on the full bed, holding a towel over the cut that bleeds from his shoulder. You're patching up some small cuts with bandages and gauze and tape. Sam was gathering his stuff in the other part of the room to get ready for the early leave tomorrow.

You gather the first-aid supplies and tools and carry them over to where Dean sits. “Hey,” You say as you pull up a chair next to him and put on a pair of gloves. “How are you doing? How's that shoulder treating you?” You ask him.

“Just peachy.” Dean responds sarcastically, giving you a small smirk.

You roll your eyes at him and pull the towel off of the cut and try not to stare at the blood that pools around the cut and that's on the towel. You toss it to the side, and pour antiseptic onto the gauze pad, and warn Dean. “This is gonna sting.” He nods and hisses, his knuckles going white against his jeans. You frown and press it as soft as you can against the cut.

You wipe softly to get the dried blood away, and take out your stitching supplies. You begin the first stitches and Dean has his eyes closed, eyelashes against his cheek, and he lets out breaths to distract himself from the pain. It was something he had always done, in the way to cover up how he felt after John told him it was completely childish and stupid to show people how you truly felt.

You finish with the tie of the thread, a cut, and start packing away the supplies. You grab your bag, the first-aid kit, and a set of files. You thank Dean and Sam for letting you join on the hunt, and they respond in their favors. Once you walk out of the motel door: you take a long, deep breath and shut your eyes.

You and Dean were a very bundle of confusion. You were never with him long enough to have a connection without eruption. You were in love with the green-eyed man; that was obvious, and he was in love with you. You had some moments in Baby where you and Dean had some long, significant touches that burned on your skin. The picture of him shirtless, eyes shut, and laying against you was permanently engraved on the back of your eyelid.

You walk into your motel room, shutting the door, and immediately walking to your bed and falling on it. You place your hand over your face and close your eyes. You turn on the television and let it go to the first movie channel it could. You let it play in the background while you read through another file for a new case that you found.

The sound of knocks fills your ears. Not hard, but not soft at the same time. You set the file down on the green bedsheets and go to the door and answer it. Dean is there in his pajamas, a Kansas sweatshirt and plaid pants, with a small smile on his face. “What are you doing here? You should be sleeping.” You open the door further and he walks in to your room.

“I just wanted to say thank you. I don't do it often, but you did a lot for me.” Dean admits as he jumps on the balls of his feet. You sit down on your bed and Dean follows and sits next to you. “It meant a lot to me.” He says.

Dean stares into your eyes, his hand snaking onto yours where it sits on your thigh. You're trying to cover your embarrassment as his eyes flicker to your lips occasionally. “Well— well It's my job to make sure my friends are safe.” You respond to his compliments. Within a second, Dean’s hand goes to your face and smashes his lips against yours. With a slide and a push, you're against the bed and Dean’s hands are on you.

You pull away from him and attempt to catch your breath. “Get hurt more, yeah?” Dean laughs and kisses you once again. You laugh again and he places one of his arms around your shoulders.

Whatever you and Dean were, you were hoping it would stay like this. With hugs, kisses, and longing touches.

[miniwheat77]

By Nature, She’s Naughty. (141 x Reader.)

THIS IS THE GANGBANG VERSION TO "LUST". I ADDED A TINY BIT MORE BACKSTORY BECAUSE I WANTED TO XD

You can find the original mutual masturbation story here

!CW! NSFW, smut, gang bang, rough sex, overstimulation, squirting, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, 141 being great at aftercare, (lemme know if I missed any)

(Summary): 141 finds out how wild Y/N was in her youth.

I’m referring to Captain Price as John and Soap as Johnny just in case there’s any confusion.

The hot cup of coffee to your lips settles the boiling anger flowing through you. An annoyed sigh leaves your lips and you hear a laugh behind you. "Something funny John?" You spin around and send him a glare. "No, not at all sweetheart." He raises his hands in surrender. "Thought so." You roll your eyes. Everyone slowly begins to file into the meeting room. Sitting around the massive Oak table for their next assignment. "Y/N, what are you doing here?" Gaz asks. "On the next assignment with you guys." You smile. "Tread carefully boys, she's grouchy when she's woken up too early." You raise the cup of coffee. "This right here will save you all from your impending doom." You joke.

"For someone so young you think you'd be able to run on much less sleep." Soap laughs. "Yeah, I partied all of the youngness out of me. Believe it or not." You laugh. Soap tilts his head. "Partier huh? You'll have to tell us about it sometime." He winks. You roll your eyes. "Yeah right, I barely remember any of it. Cocaine is a hell of a drug." You kick your feet up on the table, only for Captain Price to immediately shove them off. "Wait, really?"

"For legal reasons I'm not answering that." You smirk. John rolls his eyes. "I've heard the stories from Laswell. She's done some pretty crazy shit." You smile at him. He had no issues selling you out. "I know Laswell did some pretty crazy stuff too so she better be careful telling you my business." You laugh. "You too Captain, she's told me about all kinds of things." You send him a wink, making him shake his head in retaliation. "Anyways." He clears his throat. "Onto this next mission." He starts.

—

The wind blew harshly against your clothes. The mask you wore helped shield your skin from the harsh sand beating against you. "This sucks." You roll your eyes. "Not too bad actually. Better sand than bullets." Gaz shrugs. "Yeah, if you're a pussy." You wink. He rolls his eyes. "Takes one to know one." He nudges you. "Pay attention." Your Captain snaps. "Yes sir." You salute him sarcastically but he can't see it. You really shouldn't be giving him this much attitude but you are. "I'm beginning to think we're lost Captain." Soap says. "Yeah, me too." He rolls his eyes. "Seems like Laswell sent us on a death run. You do something to piss her off Captain?" You joke. "Hope not. If I did, none of us are leaving here." He laughs. "So all of those people back there, what do you think they were?" Gaz asks. "Not sure, I just hope there isn't any more of them." He continues. "Don't think so. Looked more like a wannabe group of Al Qatala. Not many weapons, not very guarded buildings." You shrug. "True."

Finally, after a few hours of walking, you find yourself walking upon an old abandoned house. The inside was caved in a little bit, only two rooms were still intact, the living area and the kitchen. Sand had flooded the inside and you were each left crammed into one room. Captain Price was in the living area on the radio with Laswell, and the rest were crowding the kitchen, looking to see what they could find. When his conversation was over, he makes his way into the kitchen. "Laswell sent us in the wrong direction by accident. Thinks it was intentional because Al Qatala is leading us the wrong direction because they're doing something they're not supposed to be doing." Everyone nods. "Exfil can't get to us until morning so settle in."

Those were your Captain’s instruction, so everyone did. You took up one small corner of the living area. There was an old couch, and everyone had set up around you, almost in a circle. All you had was a sleeping bag and an emergency blanket for comfort so you laid them both out. It was still too warm so you were sitting on top of it. You tried getting comfortable but it was a little hard. Everyone had a couple emergency MRE’s and first aid kits. You tended to your wounds, patched up, and ate one of the MRE’s.

“I don’t have sweats or extra clothes in my bag so you’ll all just have to be okay with me sleeping in my boxers.” Soap calls out.

“That’s fine, no one cares.” You reply. “Use a buddy system if you have to go outside for any reason.” Your captain calls. He’s laying on his own sleeping bag a couple feet from you. Soap starts removing his clothes, tucking them near his bag and laying down. The room fills with an awkward silence and everyone shifts uncomfortably. It was clear no one would be getting much rest tonight. A deep sigh brings everyone out of their own thoughts. “Maybe we should do something. Like.. play a game.” Soap says. “What, like one of those ridiculous games we played in grade school?” You laugh. “You got any better ideas?” Soap rolls his eyes. “Not really. I’m in.” You shrug.

“Truth or dare?”

“Can’t really do many dares, Soap.” You laugh. He smiles. “Alright alright, truth or truth?” You laugh, sitting up in your sleeping bag. Everyone follows suit. “I think I seen some old bottles of vodka in the kitchen. Maybe we can do a drinking game like never have I ever.” Gaz suggests. You nod your head, standing up. “Captain could probably pick out good liquor. He’d be able to tell which is good to drink and what’s bad.” You smile. “Damn right little lady.” John pushes past you, you follow him into the dingy kitchen and he opens up a couple cupboards, finding 2 unopened bottles of liquor. Gin and Vodka. “Alright. We’ll just pass around the bottle.” You nod your head. “Before we start I’m ditching my clothes too.” You complain. They were dirty and had blood all over them. “Yeah me too.” Gaz complains. Pretty soon everyone is just sitting in their undergarments. Most of you were pretty beat up. Bandages and cuts and bruises all over.

Each of you form a circle and John picks up a bottle.

“Alright so.. if you don’t already know, never have I ever works like this. Someone asks a question, and if you’ve done it, you drink, if you haven’t, you don’t.” You explain. Everyone nods.

“Alright, I’ll go first. A warm up question.” Gaz sits up. “Never have I ever… been stuck in a dingy house in the middle of a desert.”

Each of you pass around the bottles of liquor.

“Bloody hell that is shite.” Captain Price flinches. He lowers the bottle of gin from his lips and shivers. “Steamin Jesus that is horrible.” Soap laughs, passing the bottle of vodka to you. You take it, tipping it back. Flinching as you set it down. The burn coursing through you. “Alright. Soap, your turn.” Soap laughs. “Alright uh..” he pauses, thinking to himself. “Never have I ever gotten into a fight.”

Everyone passes around the bottles again.

This goes on for a few more times and everyone is starting to feel buzzed, loosening up. “Okay, Y/N.”

“Never have I ever had a dirty dream about someone in this room.” You smile. “Ooooh. That’s a good one.” Gaz laughs. Your captain, Soap, and Ghost each take a drink.

The game goes on like this until most of the liquor is gone. Everyone had been targeting you, trying to figure out what exactly you had done as a teenager. They dug deep to figure out just how wild you'd been in your youth.

Eventually everyone settles into their own little worlds. Playing on their phones, reading. Or just relaxing. The same tension is still thick in the room, everyone can read it. “Alright. I hate this. Let’s try something else.” Your Captain says, sitting up. “What do you mean?” Gaz laughs, taking a breath. “I was thinking we find another way to relieve some tension.”

“What, a gang bang?” Gaz jokes. “Hate to break it to you cap, but I don’t think poor Y/N could handle that.” Your mouth props open and your cheeks burn. “I like your taste Garrick, but that’s not what I meant. I mean.. similar. But.. less hands on.” Ghost pulls off his mask, this wasn’t the first time you’d each seen his face. “Are you suggesting we.. touch ourselves?” Soap asks. John nods his head. Everyone steals glances at each other. "What makes you think I wouldn't be able to handle it, Kyle?" You smirk at Gaz, his eyes widening. "I just assumed. You talk a big game but don't have the will to back it up." He shrugs. You pick up the bottle of Vodka, tipping what's left in the bottle back. Swallowing it all down and setting it back down. You wipe your lips off and send him another evil smile. "Try me Garrick." You cross your arms. "You know what. I think we should. Fuck the attitude right out of her." Ghost smirks. One of the only things he's said all day. "Yeah, she has been giving everyone attitude all day." Soap glances at you. Right now is where you began to get nervous. It was four against one right now. You were for sure losing no matter what. The thought of all four of them using you to pleasure themselves makes butterflies swarm in your stomach. "Earth to Y/N." your Captain waves in your face. "Y-yeah, sorry. What?"

"You want to do it or not?" He smiles. "Uh.. yeah. Yeah I do."

"It's going to be a lot." He smiles. "I know."

"Before we start, I want to make a safe word." You nod your head at his suggestion. "Okay. How about 'Stop'?" Gaz suggests. "Sounds good. You know how a safe word works, right sugar?" He asks. You nod your head. "Alright. Let's get started." His hands wrapping around your thighs and tugging you toward him, laying on your back on the ground as he eagerly pulls your panties down your legs. Revealing your most delicate parts to everyone in the room. On show for them and fuel for whatever filthy fantasies are going through each of their heads right now. Your bra is next, Ghost unclasping it almost too quickly, incriminating himself just a little bit with the move. Your Captain decides to take it easier on you in the start. Helping stretch you out and prep you. He spits on his fingers, opening you up. A moan leaves your lips and you prop yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. You notice Kyle is now fully naked, moving to your left. He pushes your chest down so that you're laying on your back. "Relax." He smiles. Simon joins your other side, Johnny at your head. "You're gonna be a good girl for us right?" Johnny smirks. You nod your head, having no real response to that. This was happening, really happening. "Nothing smart to say?" John says. You smile, but say nothing. You think about saying something sarcastic but choose not to, considering it looked like he was going first. Your smile fades when you feel the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance, disappearing between your folds. Your eyes shut tightly, a moan leaving your lips. "Shit, stretching her a lot Cap." Kyle laughs. "Yeah, probably should've stretched her a little more huh." He laughs. "Oh fuck!" A whine leaving your lips as you clutch at Johnny and Kyle’s thighs. Kyle laughs. Hand moving up the shaft of his cock, slicking it up with his spit. Johnny's fingertips glide over your cheeks and you tilt your head back to look up at him. "Fuck.. Look so pretty looking up at me like that sweetheart." He smiles. He moves his hips forward, cock nudging at your mouth and nose. You waste no time, taking him into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the tip. "Oh fuck!" he gasps, hips jerking back.

He relaxes a second, only just now realizing how long it'd been since he had done this. You reach upward, wrapping your hands around his thighs and forcing him to stay still as you took him down further. By now, John was fucking into you. He wasn't going too fast, giving you even more time to adjust to his size. Once you're sure Johnny will stay still, you reach your hands out. You can hear the squelch of Simon and Kyle jerking off, so you stop them, taking them into your hands. "Shit, maybe I was wrong." Kyle laughs. “Maybe you can take it.” He groans. Thrusting his hips into your hand. You moan around Johnny, John sliding right into your spongy spot, he’s got a death grip on your thighs and your hips buck. “Fuck.. like when you moan around my cock like that sweetheart.” Johnny glides his hand over your throat. He takes hold of you, holding you still so that he can thrust into your mouth, trying not to be too rough. John moans out, feeling you tighten around him. “Fuck.. so fucking tight.” He moans. He relaxes himself. He’s worked up, approaching his orgasm too fast for his liking. He slows his thrusts, pinning your hips to the ground and taking slow deep thrusts into you. “She’s fucking tight-“ he groans. “So fucking good.” He tilts his head down, watching his cock disappear inside of you. “Doing so good for us Princess. So much better than I thought you would.” Kyle laughs, fingertips gliding over your chest at an attempt to soothe you. Your heart was pounding and your skin was bright red and warm. Already so worked up. He lets out a deep chuckle. A taunt. “She’s good at this too.” Johnny groans out, tilting his head back too look at the ceiling. Having to force himself to think about something other than your lips around him. “Got a lot of experience hm? Little slut.” Johnny swats your breast, earning a moan from you. You squirm when he squeezes it, fingertip gliding over your nipple. John felt himself growing closer and closer to the edge of his orgasm. Working through it. “Fuck- fuck.” He gasps. He groans. You’re wet around him, soaking the base of his cock. He admires it.

Johnny slides out of your mouth for just a second, and you gasp in a breath of air, followed by a “I’m gonna cum!” Before Johnny holds you still. “Fuck- me too.” John groans. “Me too.” Johnny’s eyes roll back. Kyle chuckles. “Gonna make them both cum sweetheart. Such a filthy fucking girl. Fucking your Captain and sucking your Sergeant off too.” Kyle leans down, attaching his lips to your nipple, lowering a hand to rub at your clit. He’s running quick circles over it, and you cry out around Johnny’s cock, nearly choking when he ruts his hips into you, pushing himself as far into your throat as you could take and cumming deep inside your throat. John pulls out of you quickly, earning a mewl from you at the loss of your orgasm. Pumping his cock quickly until he coats his hand and your stomach in a layer of his cum. When he cums, it’s sexy. He doesn’t try to hide how good he’s feeling, panting, groaning. When all of their hands are off of you, and Johnny has slid out of your mouth, you’re panting hard. Eyes are watering and your skin is beat red. “How are you doing sweetheart? Can you take it?” Your Captain smirks. Your nod your head lazily and he laughs at this. So pathetic and used already and they’d only just begun. Kyle swaps spots with John, and Simon trades with Johnny. Giving himself a minute before he fucks you. You jerk his cock lazily, same with John. They were both sensitive as they’d just climaxed. Taking this as a moment to relax. “See if I can’t make you cum hm? I know how bad you want it.” Kyle smiles. You lay back, hair damp with sweat as you look up at Simon, forcing your eyes not to widen at his massive size. A deep chuckle leaves his lips, causing chills to raise on your skin. “S’alright, no need to be nervous.” His deep voice puts you in a trance and you look up at him. “Such a pretty girl hm? If you can’t take it all, that’s alright. Just as long as you try f’me.” He smiles. You take a deep breath, adjusting the way you’re laying for a second, opening your legs up for Kyle. He bites his lip at this. Still ready for more.

He wonders if you’ll still be by the end of this.

Kyle’s tip pokes at your entrance and he’s a little more rough than your Captain, starting in fast. The sound of his hips slapping into yours echoes throughout the room, cries leaving your lips at the intensity until Simon leans forward. You swallow down the moans, opening your mouth for him. You’re ready for it, and his thick cock glides into your mouth. You release John and Johnny, forming a death grip on the sleeping bag beneath you. You suck hard at Simons cock as he fucks your throat, breasts bouncing with every hard thrust Kyle takes. “Want this pussy cumming on my cock.” Kyle growls. He’s holding both of your thighs tightly, hips hammering into yours. John rubs gentle circles on your clit, Johnny leaning forward to suck at one of your nipples, fingers gliding over the other. You’re crying out around Simon and he’s struggling to keep himself together. You’re sucking hard and the vibrations from your moans feel so good. He lowers one of his hands, fingers rolling his balls around, stimulating himself even more. Kyle’s teeth are gritted, John was right. You’re wrapped tightly around him, your body naturally milking his cock. You were made for this. Made for pleasuring them. You’re swallowing down gags, you don’t want them to notice your weakness, not even for a second. Simon grits his own teeth, clutching your hands over the sleeping bag. He’s mumbling to you. The others can’t hear it too well, but you can. Strings of moans and curses are leaving his lips. “Such a good girl.. like sucking my big cock, don’t you?” He chuckles when you moan around him. Knowing you can’t answer his questions. He’s stretching at your lips. A sting that you find yourself loving. “Mmm… doing so good. Getting me so close.” Simon releases your hands, you return them to pump at the others’ cocks. Earning groans from both of them. So sensitive, yet still ready for more. He’s more rough than he intends to be, holding you still by your hair and fucking himself into your throat. Watching you turn a deep shade of crimson, choking on his cock. “Oh fuck- just a- just a second longer sweet girl. Take my cock. Take it- Agh!” Simons hips buck, cumming down your throat just as Johnny had earlier. “Jesus LT-“ Johnny laughs. You take in a deep breath when he pulls away, the color fading from your face from having your air cut off. You’re panting, the black dots that had clouded your vision are slowly starting to disappear, the numbness in your body felt amazing, the buzzing in your head blocked everything out. The only thing you seemed to be able to feel was Kyle’s hips slamming into yours.

You’re moaning out, cries and whimpers leaving your lips each time he hammers into your cervix. You prop yourself up, eyes burning into Kyle’s as he fucks into you. He bites his lip hard, hips not stopping for even a second. You reach your hand down, rubbing at your clit, maybe a little harder than you intend. “Fuck.. think she’s about to cum.” John laughs. “She likes that, look at her.” Your hips buck up, eyes rolling back as your body lurches forward. Kyle tilts his head back, “fuck I’m gonna cum.” Kyle’s thrusts slow, and he’s taking hard thrusts into you, riding out your orgasm. When you fingers drop from your clit to clutch the sleeping bag, John replaces them. Earning a few cries from you at the overstimulation. “Oh- fuck!” Kyle gasps out. He slides out of you too, coating your stomach in his cum just like his Captain had. It was time for the next rotation. You were worn out, eyes heavy. Body numb and throbbing. Beads of sweat coated your body and your heart thumped through you. The room buzzed and felt way hotter than earlier. “Need another drink before I fuck her. Johnny is next.” Simon growls, standing up. He was last, and was by far going to be the biggest, you were nervous thinking about it.

Johnny swaps with Kyle, John moving up by your head. It was his turn to feel those pretty lips wrapped around him. “How about we try something else sweetheart?” Johnny smiles. “On your hands and knees f’me baby.” He pats your thigh. You listen, legs wobbling as you move. “Are you alright, Princess?” John asks. You nod your head. John smiles. “No more attitude out of you Hm?” He pushes your hair out of your face, a gasp leaving your lips as Johnny slides into you, grasping hold of your hips as he starts fucking you. John laughs, leaning in to press his forehead to yours. He smiles. Eyes looking into yours. “Am I a good girl Captain?” You smile. “Yeah, doing so good for us.” John’s cock is rock hard again, hearing you say that. Asking if you’re a good girl. It makes him want to bust right there. “Are you ready for more baby? Ready to taste my cock?” You nod your head eagerly. “Such a good girl for me.” He groans out as you lower yourself. He lifts himself up onto his knees, cock level with your mouth. You take him into you, body jolting with each thrust Johnny takes. Kyle squeezes at your breasts, fingertips gliding over your skin to soothe you like he had done before. He knew they were overwhelming you. But you were almost done, and you were proving him wrong. So so wrong. Johnny’s head is tilted back, hearing your moans have been muffled by his Captain’s cock. His cock was overstimulated, but he was still going. The sensitivity makes the sex feel so much better. So much more intense as your body clenches down onto him, relaxing. You can feel another knot building in your stomach, and Johnny can tell. The way you’re clenching around him sells you out. Kyle is running circles over your clit steadily, even with the shaking from Johnny’s thrusts. Simon sits on the couch, bottle of Gin in hand. He’s watching. Your body is so stimulated. Mouth full of cock, cock buried in your pussy. Nipples and clit being stimulated. Your hands are clutching at the ground beneath you. You’re fighting off another orgasm, he can tell from where he’s sitting. If Johnny doesn’t make you cum, Simon would. By the way Johnny’s thrusts are getting sloppy, he’s not going to get you to another. A smile plays at Simons lips. He was about to make you see another fucking world.

Sure, he was a little cocky about it. But he was waiting to go last for a good reason. He’d stretch you more and wanted you to be completely ready.

You swallow down every last bit of cum that your Captain has to give. His hips buck into you, and you try hard not to gag. He relaxes, your head hanging as you cry out. Johnny’s thrusts are sloppy and you know he won’t be able to make you finish, you’re too overwhelmed. Johnny releases a loud gasp, sliding out of you just in time as he pumps his cock hard, orgasm spilling out onto your backside. You collapse onto your stomach, body weak and numb. Kyle laughs. “M’tapping out sweetheart. You’re all Simons now.” Simon stands up from the couch, setting down the empty bottle of gin. He kneels down by your legs, helping you roll into your back. Chuckling at how weak you are. “You remember our safe word right honey?” He smirks. You nod your head weakly. “What is it?”

“Stop.” You croak. He smiles, “can you take more?” You nod your head weakly. “Just lay back and relax. They’re going to take care of you.” You nod your head. A sigh leaves your lips as you lay back. Simon folds one of your legs over the other until you’re on your side. He lifts one of your legs higher, spitting on his hand and rubbing it over your pulsing entrance. As fucked out as you are, you’re still desperate to cum again. Simon starts to glide into you and your mouth falls open. “Oh my god!” You suck in a harsh breath. “It’s okay sweetheart.” John rubs a hand over your hair. They’re all watching Simon stretch you. “Stretching me so much-“ a sob leaves your lips. Simon bites down on his lip, trying not to thrust right into you until you’re crying. Tears start to slide down your face, so overstimulated. But it feels so good. Better than anything you’ve ever felt before. “Ah-“ you move your leg until you’re laying on your back again, pushing down onto Simon, and he groans when he prods at your cervix, bottoming out into you. “Someone’s eager.” He chuckles. When he takes his first thrust, your head falls back into John’s lap. He chuckles, “you’ve got a safe word baby. Don’t forget.” You shake your head. Earning a smile from him. “Doing so good for Simon baby. So good.” He chuckles, running his fingers through your damp hair. He draws his hips back, thrusting into you again. A moan leaving your lips. They didn’t get to hear too much of it before. Your mouth was full. Your moans are perfect and they egg Simon on. He starts to be a little more rough, hips hammering into yours until your body is jumping with each one he takes. Simon won’t last long, but that doesn’t matter.

Because neither will you.

His thick cock brushes right up against your spongy spot, and your eyes roll back. Shutting tightly. “Ah! S-Simon- feels weird.” You whimper, “S’okay baby. Just let it happen.” John breathes, they all know what’s coming, stealing glances at each other with a smile. Your body began to shake, cries leaving your lips. You try to squirm but John holds you tight. Johnny moves forward, rubbing circles over your overstimulated nub. “A-Ah! I’m going to-“ a cry leaves your lips and Simon fucks you through it, body jerking hard as you reach your high, your arousal squirting out around Simon, fluids coating Simon as a scream leaves your lips. Simon groans, still fucking into you as he reaches his own high. “So fucking good. Fucking tight around me.” He grits his teeth. He knows he should pull out, but he doesn’t. “Agh- can’t fucking stop,” he growls. He takes a tight hold on your hips, burying his cock as deep as it’ll go and reaching his orgasm. Filling you to the hilt with his spunk.

Your body gives out completely, panting. You’re drenched in sweat and coated in bodily fluids. Most not even yours. Simon moans when he sees his cum spill back out of you. Pumping out with each pulse from your pussy. John let’s go of you, giving you a moment to relax. They all stand up, admiring their work. “I was wrong, she could take it.” Kyle laughs. Each of them standing around you like a pack of wolves, that’d just devoured their prey. Your eyes are heavy and don’t stay open for long. You fall asleep quickly, still nude and coated in fluid.

“Let’s clean her up, everyone else has clothes so she can sleep with Johnny.” They nod their heads, making a mutual agreement. You didn’t have back up clothes and neither did Johnny, which meant you could keep each other warm through the night. It was the desert. It would get freezing. With whatever wipes and clothes they didn’t need, they cleaned your skin off, using a damn cloth to wipe your face off before using it for the rest of your body, even between your legs so that you didn’t feel uncomfortable. They helped put your undergarments back on so that you wouldn’t wake up naked, and discarded your ruined emergency blanket with a mutual agreement to gift you another when they returned. “I found an extra hoodie in my bag, let’s put it on her too.” Gaz passes it to Johnny. He moves your body to slide it onto you. “M’gonna take her bra back off than. That can’t be comfortable. She complains about them every time she’s around.” Johnny laughs. “True.” He tucks your bra into your bag and unzips your sleeping bag for more warmth over the both of you.

He forces you awake for just a second for a drink of water and after, you’re fast asleep again. Johnny gets settled with you, pulling you into him so that the both of you are warm. Once everyone settles in, they turn their lights off.

The next morning, Johnny is shaking you awake. “Exfil is a mile out lass. Cmon.” You nod your head, going to stand up. Your legs buckle underneath you and Johnny laughs as he catches you. “Just sit there for a minute yeah?” He smiles. “Simon, I’ll take your bag. You get her.” He nods his head, moving closer. He passes Johnny his bag, kneeling down in front of you. You climb onto his back and he’s lifting you up. He has a hold of your thighs, your arms wrapped around his front. You were riding piggyback on him. They cover your bottom half with an emergency blanket, luckily Gaz’s hoodie was long and covered you as well. “Alright. One mile. Let’s do this.” They all nod.

You rest your head on Simons back, eyes growing heavy once again.

ask and you shall receive my babies XD

@shroomje @mothcelestial @lillianastuff

[ghostandsoap]

Sitting with a Show

John "Soap" MacTavish x Fem! Reader Tags: NSFW. Smut. Cockwarming. Soap being a jerk lol. A/N: Horrible title. Will change it when I come up with something better. Word Count: 1.0k "Your odds are lookin' good."

"Hey, hey..." Soap warned, his grip on your hips tightening. "Stop it. Watchin' the game here."

"John, this is ridiculous," You hissed. "There will be a million soccer games other than this one."

"Football," He corrected, giving the side of your thigh a smack. "None of that soccer rubbish."

"It's the same thing," You gruffed, whimpering when he shifted his hips underneath you. "Every game is the same."

His tip hit the furthest part inside of you that it could, and your arms and legs were beginning to get fuzzy. Soap's cock had been stuffed inside of you for what felt like hours now - completely hard and prodding at all the right places.

He was perfectly comfortable, sunken into the mattress, propped up just enough so he could properly see the TV that was screaming with bright colors of soccer field turf and fans dressed for their team in the stands. He could see the screen over you, much to your demise.

To be completely honest, this whole ordeal did seem fun at first. It was something different, and something you hadn't tried before. It was arousing to think about Soap being buried inside of you with no promise of friction or relieving stimulation. It was supposed to drive him crazy. It was supposed to make him desperate for you...make him beg for you.

However, it seemed that your devious plan fell apart when he decided to take advantage of it and turn the tables on you.

"I don't know why you're complainin' so much," He chuckled, completely unbothered. "This was your idea, sweet stuff."

So now, you were stuck with him taunting you and torturing you with his cock by doing nothing with it - and he was too invested in his stupid soccer/football game to even think about giving in. His eyes were glued to the TV screen behind you, his gaze barely peeling away for merely a moment.

He was having fun watching you fall apart over his attention being elsewhere in a situation where you were fully naked and at his disposal. The circumstances were great for an even better lovemaking session. But Soap was having too much fun playing the game you originally intended to play.

"I might as well go home at this point," You growled, seriously considering getting up and leaving. "So fucking annoying."

At this point, it was beginning to piss you off more than anything. It was the frustration with his stubbornness and irritation for not getting what you wanted. Frankly, you were beginning to feel bad for previously wishing this upon him.

"Hey...don't be like that," He said in a tone that was demanding, but also sympathetic. "We're havin' fun, princess."

His eyes were set on you now, his irises moving back and forth as he focused on your expression to see if this was beginning to become too much for you. Soap could be a bit intentionally aggressive in the bedroom sometimes, but he never let it get to the point where you weren't enjoying yourself.

He studied carefully, looking for anything that let him know he needed to stop. You were definitely getting antsy, and every minute that passed you were growing more needy.

But you weren't at your breaking point...yet.

"You're having fun," You growled, tears beginning to form in your lower lash line. "I'm not getting-"

To shut you up, Soap gave a quick, firm thrust up into you, making a strained cry leave your throat at the feeling of finally having some kind of movement. Soap let out a low, erotic groan at the sound of your wetness getting pushed around and the sight of it smeared onto his lower stomach made his cock twitch within you. He stayed still for a moment, only moving again when your shoulders relaxed.

He watched your expression as he lifted you off of his cock just enough before sinking you back down, his hips rolling up to thrust into you. You visibly shuddered, a whimpered plea for more sounding from you.

He fucked you slow for a bit, giving you just enough to begin to satisfy you, but not enough to curb your craving for him. He saw your blown pupils and flushed skin, tell-tale signs that you were completely maxed out and ready for more.

Too bad he had a soccer game to watch.

His hip movements stopped, and you were back to square one - completely swallowing his cock between your legs, but no promise or sign of anything more. The look on your face was priceless - an overwhelming expression of disappointment, disbelief, and betrayal. Soap would've felt bad for you...except he didn't.

"You're...you're gonna fuck me, right?" You asked, words breathy and voice barely audible.

He gave a chuckle so mischievous and smug that it almost made you tear up again. He reached for one of your hands, pressing your knuckles to his lips with a smirk.

"Sure, I'll fuck you..." He gave a shit eating grin when he saw your eyes light up. "...if they win."

Against your better judgment, you turned your head to look at the TV, your stomach dropping when you saw that the game was just over halfway through the first half...and the scores were tied. Not only did you have another half to go, but there was a chance that you might make it to the end of the game and receive no end to this torture at all. Maybe if you were lucky, you could convince him during halftime.

Soap laughed again at your agitated look, giving your backside a playful squeeze.

"Cheer up, pretty girl. They've had a good year so far," He said, referring to his preferred team. "Your odds are lookin' good."

Soap wasn't showing any signs of letting up, and you didn't have a choice but to endure the rest of this game and hope for a winning game.

This was going to be the longest game of your life.

[shellxrls]

okay to complete the trilogy

here’s how jj fucks

okay so we all know jj is an energetic person, and this only escalates in bed.

he has ridiculous stamina and an even more ridiculous refractory period. he will dump three loads and still be up for more.

he also does not gaf if it gets messy.

he loves to feel in control, I mentioned this with rafe but for him it’s slightly different. he’s much less mean about it. Rafe sees it as a power trip whereas jj sees it as like “helping” in a way.

for me specifically sometimes I just need to turn my brain off and that’s exactly where sex with jj comes in best.

he’s not soothing like John b is, he just does not stop. and that fucking works.

he also very much knows what he likes, and will always make sure he gets that, but he’s also realllyyy good at making sure the pleasure is mutual.

he never had an off day when it comes to giving pleasure, he may but a dumb fuck, but he does know how a girls (and a guys I can’t even lie to you) body works.

he loves giving backshots! if he could choose one sex position for the rest of his life it would be having me face down ass up.

he goes fast and hard, and he’s a grunter. Always with the little punched out “uh, uh, uh”’s and it’s so so hottttt.

skin slapping and bedpost banging are the primary sounds heard other than disgustingly shameless moaning.

jj is a shameless moaner and he made me one too the little cunt.

if I’m not loud enough for his liking or if I’m tryna quiet myself down he will dirty talk the noises out of me.

he genuinely said “lemme hear those pretty noises mama, yeahhhh that’s it.” And I’m never. ever recovering.

he’s not into any kinks that involve deliberate injury for pleasure. like slapping or choking, stuff like that he hates in bed. simply because his at home life is quite unstable and he just can’t imagine ever doing that to someone he loves cause he knows how it feels. even if it’s consensual on the receiving side he just absolutely cannot bring himself to do it. As a very open and experimenting person in bed, choking, slapping anything of that type of action he absolutely refuses and honestly I get that. He also refuses any type of noncon.

however he can spank. though only EVER does it when he’s really mad or riled up, and even then he is so so so attentive. always checking in after every hit just to make sure it’s not becoming too much.

he is also very adamant about safe words. always having a safe word and action and always checking through them and agreeing on them before we do anything that involves deliberate injury or just anything particularly rough in general.

also makes sure to give very good aftercare after spanking or a particularly rough night. LOTS of kisses and praise cause he would absolutely eat away at himself if he thought I was feeling neglected or bad about myself cause of something he’d done. especially in a setting as vulnerable as that.

and he’s also very good and communication which surprised me. again he’s very adamant about never hurting the people he loves, especially with the way he grew up. if I’ve suggested something he doesn’t want to do for that reason he’s very good at voicing it and honestly I’m glad bc I would never want to make him uncomfortable.

he’s also v open about sex, and is always totally there to talk about it or hear new suggestions or anything that I need to talk about he will.

he is very into butt stuff!!! I am his anal princess I cannot even begin to lie to u. he definitely has not bought me as many butt plugs but you bet I’m gettin a nice one he saved up for every Valentine’s Day cause he’s jst a lover boy to his core <33 and butt stuff <333

he’s mostly into giving praise but sometimes if he’s particularly wound up a little bit of degradation is sprinkled in. again is very thorough with aftercare after the fact of these situations.

he’s also such a munch. like the munchiest munch in munchland. he owns a t-shirt that says “I ❤️ eating pussy” and wears it on a regular.

he knows just how to work a pussy with his mouth and its IMMACULATE!!! he can also eat ass too omg.

he lovesss using toys. most guys see toys as a competition, but not jj. this man knows what’s up. he has a whole ass collection of random ass toys laying around and somehow at some point they all get used.

his fav combination when I’m tired is being four fingers knuckles deep in me with a vibrator to my clit and ohmygollygoshgoodness. deceased.

he’s really into tired / sleepy sex too. though he’d never do anything sexual while I was asleep because as previously stated, this man does not do any type of noncon.

but like I say if one of us wakes up in the middle of the night then it’s sleepy, sloppy, tired messy sex and ughh <333

he also loves cockwarming mmh. well put a movie on and I’ll jst sit on his cock and it’s sooo..

loves being sucked off <3 and he has such a pretty dick too. uncut but he actually likes to shave around there. such a perfect pink tip like I can’t even it’s the prettiest thing. can taste putrid though if I’m not careful.

he likes to have his balls played with / sucked on.

and PISS KINK!!! omg he’s jst gross ab it it’s so hot. makes me grind on his thing when I need to piss just to make me lose control and :(((

also on another note he does not gaf if I’m on my period. a true soldier is not afraid to get his sword bloody (I saw someone else on their blog say this and have honestly just adopted the phrase cause it makes me giggle)

I think this is everything but I’m literally so tired right now, if there’s anything I’ve forgotten I’ll js put it in a different ask <3

- rafe shifter

i’m posting this rn cuz everyone wants it !! i don’t have time to individually respond but trust i WILL add onto this post later with my own thoughts. ty anon for sending this in and taking time to explain every detail <3 !!

[unreliablesnake]

Sharing is caring (Phillip Graves x reader x John MacTavish)

Note: I already told you. If there was no betrayal, this is exactly what would have happened. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

“Your house is… impressive,” Soap noted with a whistle before fist bumping Graves.

The Shadow flashed a smug smirk at him, knowing full well this wasn't the only time he would make such comments that day. “I’m glad you're here, brother,” he said with his hand on the Scotsman's shoulder.

The two went inside, and Graves found his guest’s reaction to the interior amusing. He spent a lot of time among his men on the field or at the HQ of Shadow Company, he wasn't solely living in a rich man’s world, but it was still entertaining to watch people become impressed by what he owned.

“Your room’s upstairs at the end of the hallway. I have these little monitors by the doors so I always know who's in which room. Look for your name,” Graves explained before beginning to walk backwards. “How about a drink?”

“No, thanks. Maybe later,” the other man added after a short pause.

“All right. Go, put down you suitca–Oh, the lady of the house has arrived,” the Shadow noted with a bright smile as his eyes were fixed on the front door.

Soap turned there and looked shocked for a moment. How could he not be shocked when you were such a beauty? Graves knew perfectly well what kind of effect you had on men, and he was proud to be the one to have you at the end of the day. He rushed over to you, pulling you into a passionate kiss without a word.

Maybe he was showing off. Maybe it was what he usually did. Maybe both. But whatever it was, the Scotsman found himself feeling like an intruder all of a sudden. His host probably realized that because stepped to your side with his hand on the small of your back.

“Baby, he’s John MacTavish, the man I told you about,” he said before pushing you forward to introduce yourself.

With a smile, you walked over to Soap, who extended a hand to greet you, but to his shock you pushed it out of the way and gave him a warm hug. Graves only smiled to himself, after all he knew what this was all about. He had shown you a picture of his friend, and you undoubtedly found him attractive.

With your relationship being kind of open, it was only natural for you to explore the opportunity of a short affair with the sergeant. Too bad the poor guy had no idea what was going on, and he gave the Shadow an apologetic look over your shoulder, his hands held away from your body.

“It's okay, she's usually this affectionate with people she likes,” Graves assured him with a smile.

Soap nodded, but he was clearly uncomfortable in this situation. Once you let go of him, you began to walk towards the stairs and curled your finger to make him follow you. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room,” you said kindly.

“Don’t scare him away, please,” Graves warned you, earning a cute chuckle from you.

An hour later he was sitting by the bar in the living room with Soap, talking about their latest missions, but the conversation died the moment you came downstairs wearing a little bikini with a see-through gown over it. The sergeant couldn’t help himself, he was watching you over his whiskey, his gaze following you as you went outside and lied down on one of the pool lounge chairs with a book in your hand.

The Shadow was meanwhile watching his guest, laughing to himself all of a sudden that caught his attention. “Quite a sight, isn’t she? I knew you would like her. She sure likes you,” he noted before taking a sip of his drink.

“We only exchanged a few words, how could she like me?” he asked with a confused look on his face.

“I might have told her about you. Also, you see, she’s free to do whatever she wants. With whoever she wants,” he added to clarify with a wolfish grin.

Soap blinked a few times, as if he hadn’t understood what he just heard, but then he gulped and said, “You mean…?”

Graves shrugged. “I’m just saying. The chemistry’s there, if you want to have some fun with her, go ahead. She’ll come back to me at the end of the day, so I’m not worried,” he informed him.

“You’re just joking, right?”

Patting the fellow soldier on the shoulder, Graves let out another laugh. “If you want her, she’s all yours while you’re here. Go, talk to her.”

[noisydelusionlove]

Chapter 23: Heat pt 3

Pairings: Poly141xOC

Warnings: A/BO dynamics, dubcon (she’s in heat), PinV, Unprotected sex (dont do that)

Aurora groans as she slowly opens her eyes. Her body is slightly sore and aching, a sign that her heat is progressing. She sits up and rubs her eyes as she glances around her nest. She hears footsteps and looks up as Kyle walks in carrying a stack of pizza boxes, Johnny enters right behind him carrying a cooler, John behind him carrying plates and napkins, with Ghost ending the line, but staying near the door. Kyle nods at Aurora’s nest, for permission and she laughs as she scoots over and pats the bed. “What are you guys doing?” She laughs as Kyle sits down beside her, gently placing the pizza boxes down. “Feeding you before your next cycle, we thought you’d be more comfortable in here.” Kyle laughs as Aurora nods. Johnny hands her and Kyle an electrolyte drink out of the cooler before sitting on Aurora’s other side, scooting the cooler closer. John sits on the floor in front of her nest, but Ghost stays leaning against the wall by the door.

A little while later the pizza and drinks have been handed out, the three in the nest eating, John on the floor in front of the next, and Ghost leaning against the wall eating, looking slightly uncomfortable. Aurora taps Kyle’s arm and nods towards Ghost and Kyle smiles. “He’s going into a rut princess, he knows you’re in a lucid period so he doesn’t want to hurt you. He has a surprising amount of control.” Kyle says as Auroran ods, looking back to see Ghost staring at her, his eyes looking at where she and Kyle are almost touching, his jealous Alpha side making a small show it seems.

Once they are finished eating John clears his throat. “It looks like once this lucid period ends you’ll be under for awhile. We know Ghost is already heading into a rut, and I can feel mine coming too and Johnny is kind of a wild card. So I expect the five of us to be pretty preoccupied the next two or three days.” He says and Aurora gives a small nod. “So we are going to bring some food and stuff in here, snacks and protein bars so we have it within reach for when it starts getting bad.” He smiles and Aurora nods, enjoying his honesty. She gives a small nod and Johnny laughs. “Take a nap, Bonnie. You need your rest.” He says as he kisses her cheek, and the four men make their way out of the room. Aurora buries under her blankets and closes her eyes, slipping into sleep easily. 

An hour later Aurora slowly opens her eyes and moves the blankets to see around the room. The sun has long since set, and since the boys knew she was napping they had turned her light off, the room is almost pitch black minus the small sliver of light coming from where the door is cracked open into the hallway. Aurora is overcome with how hot she is as she throws the blankets off of her and begins removing the t-shirt and shorts Kyle had changed her into. When she has the clothes off she cannot ignore how her core aches, her hands quickly moving between her legs, but she stops with a whine when she hears a deep growl from inside the room.

”You think I’m going to let you touch what's mine there Love?” A deep voice growls out, as the lamp across the room turns on, lighting up the room so Aurora can see a man standing in the corner, leaning against the wall. If it wasn’t for the fact that his scent permeated the room, and his voice was unmistakable, Aurora would have been confused. The man has dirty blonde hair, that was once na regulation cut, but has since grown out, scars littering his face, including over the bridge of his nose, that’s obviously been broken a few times, but those eyes, those deep brown eyes, eyes that Aurora would recognize anywhere, even now, with his pupils dilated as his rut has fully hit. He’s wearing a black tank top and black sweats, a black balaclava gripped tight in his hand as he watches her.

”Alpha” She whimpers out, watching as his body proactically shivers at the word. He cocks his head slightly as he looks at her, the smell of tobacco and gunpowder encasing the room, overriding her scent. “What do you need Little Omega?” Ghost’s voice comes out in almost a growl as he watches her writhing on the bed. “You.” She whines as she looks at him across the room. “Oh, you need me now? You seemed fine with the other Alpha and the Betas earlier. Even had Johnny popping his first knot.” Ghost says, his voice mocking as he pushes off the wall and comes to stand over the nest as Aurora looks up at him. Aurora shakes her head quickly as she looks up at him. “Only you Alpha. Please.” She whimpers as Ghost smiles, looking down at her as she watches him, her fingers flexing to touch herself, to do something as he prolongs her torture. “Then present for me Little One. Present for your Alpha.” He growls out, chuckling slightly as Aurora quickly flips onto her stomach, before lifting her ass in the air so Ghost has a perfect view of her slick dripping down her thighs onto the bed sheets. Ghost lets out a groan as he looks at her, shoving his sweat pants down as he quickly positions himself and pushes completely inside with one harsh thrust. Aurora lets out a scream as he places a hand on her lower back, forcing her to arch more and to keep her in place as he sets a punishing pace, the sound of his thighs slapping against the back of her legs so loud it can be heard down the hall, moans and growls accompanying the sound.

In the living area the other three freeze when they hear the sounds coming from Aurora’s room. John looks over at Kyle with wide eyes. “I thought he went out to smoke?” John says as Kyle shrugs. Kyle quickly sits his drink down and runs down the hallway to be nearby in case Ghost gets out of control. When he opens the door he’s met with the sight of Aurora face down o the bed, her back impossibly arched as Ghost presses on her back, her face is aimed towards Kyle and he can see her mouth open in a silent scream, drool pooling on the bed as her eyes practically roll into her skull as she cums. Ghost is leaning over her, thrusting forcefully inside her as he releases grunts and growls, his instincts having taken over with the need to ruin what he’s claimed as his Omega. Kyle silently moves closer to the two, on alert since Ghost seems so out of it like his control is slipping. Kyle watches as Ghost gnashes his teeth together, the urge to bite and mark Aurora growing stronger.

Aurora lets out small whimpers as she begins to feel overstimulated, the need to have her Alpha knot her causing her to feel desperate. “Please,” she whines as Ghost leans down, laying his body over hers to bury his nose in her scent mark. “Want me to knot you that bad?” He growls causing Aurora to whine and nod as he growls louder, his teeth grinding in his mouth loudly. Kyle moves to be closer to the two, holding his arm out slightly, having the feeling that, when Ghost cums he’s going to try and bite Aurora. Ghost’s thrusts come faster, as he nears his end. Suddenly he’s releasing a loud growl, his teeth flashing as he feels his knot catch, causing Aruroa to scream as she cums around the knot, the feeling of him cumming inside of her causing another wave of pleasure to hit her. As he cums Ghost moves to bite Aurora’s neck, but Kyle is quicker, darting his hand between the two of them, groaning as Ghost bites hard into the skin on Kyle’s forearm as he cums. Once he’s finished cumming Ghost removes his teeth from Kyle’s arm and looks at him. “I’m sorry,” Ghost says quietly and Kyle shrugs. “Better me than her.” He says as he looks down at a passed-out Aurora. Ghost nods as he slowly maneuvers them so they’re lying on the bed comfortably. Kyle leaves to clean the bite mark and bandage it. He lets John know what happened and John inspects the wound, wanting to care for his Beta.

Once his knot deflated Ghost calls for Kyle who comes and quickly cleans Aurora up, laying down in the bed beside her when she whimpers at the loss of contact. He lets her cuddle up to his side as he pulls the blankets over her. He knows that the next time she gains consciousness she will be deep into her heat, and he’s mentally preparing for what that will look like the next two days. 

A/N: Next chapter is the “orgy chapter” and should be the last chapter of her heat, then it’s back to normal Feral and her attitude and dislike towards the men as well as her just being a badass medic and soldier. 

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