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puhpandas · 1 year ago

Text

You Stress Me Out

(4,135 words)

Gregory shows up at Evan's house during a storm with a wood carving knife stuck in his stomach. It may not be that bad of a wound, but that doesn't mean having a knife sticking out of you is any less scary. Or that Evan will freak out any less.

warnings: blood, mentions of a fistfight, an unsafe home environment, stitches, and of course, a blade being stuck inside flesh

Evans incredibly on edge right now. Which, nothing new here. But this time, it's less of his normal state and more of a genuine, rational kind of edge.

First off; a storm is on it's way. Not only does a storm mean that outside is a no-go, meaning that Evan is trapped inside his house with no way to leave, but hes absolutely terrified of thunder.

Which is why as soon as he'd heard about the bad weather, when his fathers back was turned and Michael had been focusing on something other than messing with him, he'd snuck to the kitchen, grabbed all the snacks and water he could need, and took them to his hidden stash in his bedroom.

This way, he didnt have to leave his room. And he could do his old trick of blocking the door leading from the shortest route to his room with his dresser, which could give him enough time to shut Michael out if he decides to persist on the other side.

Unlockable doors. The bane of Evan's existence.

The other reason hes on edge isnt because of himself, even though his body is locked up and sense, waiting for the thunder to start booming outside and send him flying off of his bed from how hard he flinches. Its because of Gregory.

Evan's brows furrow from his place on his bed, curtains drawn, but just open enough to see the rain start so he can brace himself. He takes one look at the gray clouds and white sky and frowns deeply.

Evan knows all about his friends... situation. Honestly, after being friends for almost a year, you'd think he would have known sooner, but nope. Evan had just been giving Gregory the benefit of the doubt too much. when Gregory'd refuse to let Evan go to his house, he'd assume he had parents like his, who he didnt want Gregory to have to see either, which was why he had been asking. When Gregory would have new bruises and cuts and rips in his clothing the next time Evan would see him, he would deliberately choose not to pry, or wonder, because he would think maybe it was worse than he thought.

But Evan had figured it out eventually, and he'd understood why Gregory kept it from him so long. Evan wouldnt want Gregory to see him differently for being a certain way.

But like Gregory, Evan had made it clear he didnt. He understands, really. Like he understands that with the knowledge comes the worry.

Evan knows Gregory doesnt always have stable shelter. The city and it's people arent so kind to homeless people like Gregory, even when hes outside and theres about to be a hurricane. Which is why Evan is hoping, wishing, praying that Gregory will come to Evan, this time.

It's why he's reading a book, sitting on his bed next to his window instead of on his phone like usual. Evan's on edge because he cant stop thinking about what would happen to Gregory if he didn't come, and if he does, will Evan hear him to let him in.

Evans room is on the ground floor, which makes it very easy for Gregory to come and go as he pleases (also for Evan to make an escape when he needs to. It's not rare for Evan to ditch his room to flee to the city with Cassidy, sometimes).

Evan's eyes trail over the words on the pages, but he isnt taking them in. He huffs, letting the book drop to his lap, and tries to ignore how cold-but-on-fire his stomach feels. He can't focus. Not when Gregory's supposed to trust Evan enough to come to him when he needs help and he hasnt yet.

Evan only waits a while longer, foot tapping on the side of his comforter and fingers drumming. When the first few thick drops of water land on his window, he goes for his phone.

Gregory said to never call him unless it's important. But right now, with how much Evan's stomach swims with nausea over uncertainty about Gregory's safety, Evan thinks this is important enough.

Evan only has enough time to enter his fifteen digit pin and tap the phone app before the sound hes been waiting for rings out by his window.

Evan can feel his shoulders drop when the familiar jingle of a Fazbear song is knocked on his window. He smiles, hurrying over to his window and almost ripping the curtains off the wall with how fast he opens them.

When Evan reaches to open the window, Gregory's there, if not a bit weary, if his half lidded eyes and the cut on his cheekbone are any indication, but Evan doesnt worry too much. Just unclicking the locks on his window and helping Gregory step inside when its apparent he needs help.

He has a hand clutching at his stomach, which is worrying, but Gregory looks like hes okay. Not about to die, which is what Evan's thoughts always end up going to, so he thinks that's a good thing.

Evan shuts the window and locks it just as the rain starts to drop harder, and he shuts the curtains, sending a glance at his door (the one not covered up with a dresser) out of paranoia. When his father doesnt burst in and send Gregory away like Evan's imagining, he turns his attention back to Gregory.

Hes huffing, like he cant catch his breath, which makes Evan furrow his brows. Gregory's bent over, like when you have a stomach cramp and try to curl in on yourself as much as possible. If Evan looks hard enough, he can see the inklings of bruises on Gregory's knuckles.

Evan frowns. Okay, probably a fight, but it wouldnt be the first time he would have to pull out the first aid kit.

"Gregory." Evan catches his attention. Gregory's eyes dart up to him, and he offers a shaky smile. "Hey. You had me worried sick."

"Me too." Gregory says, but it sounds strained. He still has that hand pressed firmly over a spot on his stomach, and when he looks pained, Evan guides him over to his bed, letting him sit down. "I know you don't like thunder and stuff. A-And you'd be stuck with Michael.

Evan crosses his arms, trying to look stern but coming off as incredibly worried instead. "Gregory. You're acting weird." He points out. "Listen, I know you're hurt. You know I've seen you get into fights before. Can you just tell me what's wrong?"

Gregory, suspiciously, looks away, focused on one of Evan's toys hes had since he was younger that he never bothered to put away. "Um. I-I dont think this is like those times, though."

Well. If Gregory can be this difficult, he cant be feeling too bad. Doesnt do anything for the anxiety digging a hole in Evan's stomach, though. "No matter what it is, you need help, okay? I wont judge. Just let me patch you up."

Gregory doesnt respond for a moment, then, "Promise not to freak out."

"What?"

"Promise not to wig out." Gregory meets his eyes, looking pained. "This is gonna make you freak. I know it. Just... try to stay calm. It's not that bad, I swear."

"Just show me already!" Evan presses, getting jittery from nerves. "You saying that is already making me freak out!"

"Okay! Jeez." Gregory huffs, and takes a deep breath. "Just dont look at it too hard."

"Gregory!" Evan yells.

"Okay, okay!" Gregory says placatingly. He doesnt say anything else, just takes his hand off of his stomach like ripping off a bandaid.

Evan's eyes blow wide, and his legs turn cold. "Oh my god."

"There it is." Gregory sighs.

"Gregory." Evan says, just above a whisper, because he cant manage anything louder at that moment. He stares at Gregory's stomach, feeling a pit in his own stomach when he cant tear his eyes away. "Gregory!"

"I told you you'd freak out." Gregory mutters, like he doesnt have a literal knife sticking out of his flesh.

"Why would I not freak out?!" Evan whisper yells, because wow he does not need his father or Michael to walk in right now. He gestures wildly, trying to put all of his emotions I into the single movement. "You have a knife in you!"

Despite what Gregory said not to do, Evan looks hard at it anyway. It isnt super deep; it's one of those really tiny pocket knives, like what you would use to carve wood with. He can still see some of the blade sticking out, which means the inch and a half long blade isnt plundged very deep.

"I know." Gregory says. "Can you help me get it out?"

Evan gapes. "Help you--" He giggles maniacally. "Gregory, if I pull it out, I'll have no clue how to make it so you wont bleed out."

"Well," Gregory glances away. "I cant really go to the hospital, and I cant just leave it in." He says. "You're my best bet. Besides, I promise it isnt that bad. It could have been way worse. I dont need a hospital."

Wow. No pressure, or anything. Evan implodes, shaking his hands out and doing laps around the room. "I'm gonna have to pull a knife out of you."

"Okay. Stay calm, remember?" Gregory repeats, and when Evan's facing Gregory's direction again after another lap, he can see him wincing. "Look, I know you're wigging out, but I really dont want this knife to me stuck inside me anymore."

"I would assume so!" Evan hisses, coming to a stop in the middle of his room and wringing his hands through his sweater sleeves. "Gregory--"

"Okay, listen." Gregory sounds strained, and Evan takes a moment to pause, worry taking ahold of his stomach like a giant hand and squeezing. "You have a phone, don't you? I need you to Google what to do, and pull this stupid knife out of my stomach."

Evan gets queasy just thinking about it. "Gregory."

"I know." He says. "But, look. I'm not gonna be awake much longer, since I pretty much ran from the city to here while I was bleeding, and the guy who attacked me had already beat me up a bit before stabbing me."

Evan's heart seizes at that. He returns to Gregory's side, sitting down with him. "But, isnt it not good if you're unconscious--"

"I dont know." He interrupts, eyes squeezed shut. "Look, I'm feeling kinda woozy, so I dont know how much longer I have left, but I'll try to stay awake."

Evan frowns. "You're acting like you're gonna die or something." He jokes, but his hand shake at the thought. "...Okay. Come here."

Gregory perks up, sitting up with great effort and putting an arm around Evan's neck when he gestures to. "We're doing this?"

"Yeah." Evan says shakily. He supports Gregory as he leads him lay down, pressed up against the wall, where if the door opened, hed be hidden behind it. Evan grabs a few of the towels he hides in his room to always have a clean one, -since he can never rely on laundry being done in his house-, and lays them under Gregory to soak up any blood. His father would kill Evan if he got the carpet stained with blood.

Evan grabs the first aid kit he always has hidden under his bed, and clicks it open, settling on his knees in front of Gregory's slack form on the floor with hovering hands as he glances at each of the kits contends uncertainly.

He grabs his phone, fingers trembling and pressing all the wrong buttons. Gregorys harsh breathing doesnt help.

"How did this even happen?" Evan asks as he desperately types in 'how to pull a wood carving knife out of your stomach at home' into the search bar. "Like-- I know you get into fights sometimes, but this?"

"Okay okay." Gregory coughs a bit. "Ill tell you. So, you know how it's about to storm?"

Evan glances at the crack through the curtains just enough to see the dark gray clouds swirling. "Yeah."

"So, I wasnt at my usual spot, but it was really close to starting to pour. And getting sick is like, the worst case scenario." Gregory says while Evan reads the random article he found at the speed of light. "So, I had to find some other place closer to where I was to wait out the storm, because I couldnt travel that far in the rain."

Evan pauses in reading, frowning and looking at Gregory's face. "You know you can always come here, right?"

Gregory frowns, looking away. "Yeah, but..." He trails off. "Its not fair to dump my problems on you like that."

Evan scoffs, breathing out a light chuckle. "Like you didnt dump your problems on me right now. And even then, I dont mind. I would much rather you come to me then be in pain somewhere else. Okay?"

Evan doesnt look at Gregory's face, too busy looking down at the article he has pulled up on his phone in his trembling hand, but he can tell hes smiling.

"Also, don't act like you don't make my problems your own, too. Im allowed to do the same as well, you know."

"Okay, okay." Gregory huffs. "I get it. I'll come to you right away next time. Happy?"

"Yes." Evan says, and he really is. Knowing that Gregory is sure to come to Evan when the weather gets bad, or something happens that makes the city unsafe, Evan will be able to sleep soundly knowing Gregory will either be safe with him, or he will be if need be. "You never finished telling me how you ended up with a pocket knife stuck in you, though."

"Right." Gregory chuckles. "So, I find this kind of hidden away spot, right? And I'm thinking I got really lucky, and set my stuff down. But then this other older kid shows up, and its obvious hes like me. But he gets really mad that I'm in his spot and starts yelling at me to get out."

"Jerk." Evan says, pulling the things he needs out of the first aid kit. "You should help eachother out, not fight. I'm sure he could have lended you some space."

"I'm sure you would have." Gregory chuckles. "But anyway, I'm packing up my stuff to leave, because this guy hurting me is a bigger concern than the weather at this point, and I dont want to mess with him."

Evan nods along, and goes to begin, but pauses when the first step is to take out the knife. Nausea curls in his gut, and he winces, glancing at Gregory.

"Hey." He cuts Gregory off in his story, and tries to look as apologetic as possible. "I, um. Have to take the knife out."

Gregory's eyes blow wide, and he frowns. "Oh."

Evan fidgets, having no idea how to make this better for Gregory. "Do you want me to count to three, or...?"

"Just do it." Gregory puts that steely exterior on. "I can handle it. Just do what you need to do."

Evan feels awful; this must suck for Gregory. Even if the knife is small and not very deep, having something sharp ripped out of your flesh cant be fun. "If you're sure."

He props himself on his knees, getting as close to Gregory as possible, and wraps a hand firmly around the small handle of the wood carving knife.

He can see it in Gregory's eyes. Neither of them want to do this.

"Keep telling your story." Evan says softly. Maybe itll distract Gregory from it, even a little bit. And Evan, as well. He can already feel bile working it's way up his throat at the thought.

Gregory nods minutely, jaw locked and tense. He breathes out a bit. "...Kay. So, I'm trying to tell him that I'll leave if he let's me get my stuff, but hes really impatient, and when I dont leave right away, he tries to scare me away faster by beating me."

Evan winces, pointedly twisting his neck away from the knife, as he tightens his grip, anticipation sending lightning through his veins. "That explains the bruises." He says shakily.

Gregory pauses, waiting for something that doesn't come. "...Yeah. He uh, he got me pretty good... but he didnt leave unscathed either. But, I think I got it worse."

"Definitely." Evan agrees ghastily, his stomach rolling when he feels the cold handle of the knife pressing idents in his skin. "Keep going."

Gregory gives him a look, but continues. "...So when I start fighting back, even though I'm smaller, he took that as a bad thing, apparently, and wanted me gone so he didnt get hurt. So what does he do?"

Evan doesn't respond, just squeezing his eyes shut, biting his tongue, and ripping off the bandaid.

Evan rips the knife out with a quick flick of his shoulder, and gags when it makes a fleeting metal-on-flesh sound as its removed. Gregory lurches lightly next to him, making a garbled, suprised sound, and when it's over, just lays flat on the floor.

"G-God." Gregory coughs, stuttering. "Okay, that wasnt that bad. I guess."

"I'm sorry." Evan frets, flinching and dropping the knife on the towel when some of Gregory's blood drips down his fingers. "I'm sorry, Gregory."

"You didnt do it." Gregory chuckles, his face white as a sheet. He brings up an arm to clutch at a spot just above the wound on his chest. "Jesus."

"I'll fix you up." Evan says softly, setting a hand on Gregory's own and taking it away just as quickly when he rushes to go wash his hands. "Okay? It might hurt, but you'll be okay. I'll make sure of it."

"...Kay." Is all Gregory says, and Evan rushes faster when he just let's his head fall against the floor.

When Evan comes back, he all but dives onto the floor, grabbing the things he layed out on the carpet and beginning. "Gregory, hey!"

"What?" Gregory asks, and Evan sinks in relief when hes still awake. He rolls up Gregory's shirt, inspecting the wound, and he finds it looks more like just a deep cut than anything. "I know you're trying to stay awake, but I'm probably gonna have to find a way to close this cut, so you might want to go ahead and go to sleep."

Gregory pales. "Like, stitches?"

"Probably." Evan shudders. A wave of sickness washes over his body when he realizes hes probably gonna have to find a needle and thread, and stitch Gregory's flesh closed, even if the cut is only an inch or so long. "Better safe than sorry. And I really dont think having a wood carving knife stabbed into you, even if it wasnt that deep, is okay to just put a bandaid over."

"...Alright." Gregory sighs, and his head rolls against the floor, his body relaxing. "I don't want to be awake for that."

"Me neither." Evan huffs, and Gregory breathes the air of a laugh through his nose. "But I think you'll be okay. Just sleep, and you'll be patched up when you wake up."

Gregory sighs a deep sigh, and Evan thinks it sounds like deep relief just settled. "Okay. Thank you, Evan."

"Of course." Evan replies, and when Gregory shuts his eyes and no doubt falls asleep pretty quick, Evan glances around his room, and realizes hes gonna have to go on a scavenger hunt for a needle and thread.

He sighs, hoping and wishing that he wont run into his father or Michael when he has to venture out of the safety of his room, but he relaxes at the moment, taking in a deep breath and reaching for some supplies.

First, he has to clean the wound.

🐻

When Gregory creaks his eyes open, it's not to Evan's carpeted floor like he had expected. Well, he is on the floor, he finds when he finally takes in his surroundings. But he isnt laying down completely. Some pillows and blankets have been posed and laid around him, like a nest, and Evan is sitting next to him in the middle, scrolling and watching something on his phone.

Gregory twists his neck and puts pressure in his arm, trying to prop himself up. He yawns, and Evan startles, taking out the crappy Walmart earbuds he'd bought. "Gregory!"

"Hi." Gregory groans, feeling the effects of his fistfight and intense sprint take hold, his body groaning and aching with soreness at his movement. He feels warm; which is something he wasnt expecting when he'd initially thought he'd spend the span of the storm outside in it. "Ugh."

Evan shuts his phone off lays it and his earbuds on the blanket, twisting his torso and shimmying in his spot laying against a pillow against the wall and legs covered with a throw blanket to face him. "You probably dont feel too good."

"Like crap." Gregory agrees. When he shifts again, back and head cushioned against two pillows without cases on them, he can feel the sore sort of throbbing pain of whatever stitches Evan had sewn in him. He wrinkles his nose at the thought, feeling guilty on Evan's behalf. "But... the stitches feel secure. I'm sorry you had to do that, it must have sucked really hard."

"It did." Evan shudders, but chuckles at the same time. "You know, I had to go in my Moms room to get the needle and thread and steal the pills from my Dad."

Gregory quirks a brow. "What pills?" He asks at the same time Evan hands him a small bottle of Advil. "Oh."

Evan hands him some snacks, too. A water bottle and some crackers. He smiles softly and takes them, taking two Advil with a swig of the water bottle. "You did all that for me?" Gregory asks, voice small. "...I know you hate your Dad, and your parents would get mad at you if they saw you snooping."

"I know." Evan says, fidgeting with one of the blankets and laying his head on the pillow propped against the wall. "But I wanted you to feel better more than I was scared of my parents."

Theres a short stretch of silence after that, only the harsh rain and wind against the house being heard. Gregory stays silent, turning over Evan's words in his head.

His eyes burn slightly, but he pushes it down with precise practice. "Thank you" Is all he can find in him to say. Theres too many feelings, too many emotions he has to put them into words.

But Evan knows him, and Gregory knows he understands when he nods, and smiles that small, kind smile that just screams 'and I'd do it again'. "Of course." Evan insists, and looks away for a moment. "I want you to trust me, okay? I want to show you that if you come to me because you need help, I'll be here, and I wont discount you, or-- or shrug you off."

Gregory doesn't smile, but he feels warmth spread through his chest at that. Gregory knows Evan, so he knows exactly why he would want Gregory to feel that way. He knows exactly why Evan holds himself to that, even though Gregorys confident a lot of it has to do with just the kindness in Evan's own heart.

"I-I know." Gregory whispers. "I came here because I do trust you. I came here because I know that."

It's really hard for Gregory to say that, and he knows Evan understands, because he doesnt comment, just nods, relief sagging his shoulders.

Theres a short burst of silence for a moment, the two of them just soaking up the atmosphere of being warm and comfortable, despite the circumstances.

"You're staying here, by the way." Evan's voice rips him out of his thoughts suddenly, and Gregory snaps to attention to see Evan looking at him sternly, but worriedly. "I know you're gonna try to say something stupid about how you're fine to go back into the rain. You arent going anywhere near the city, alright? I don't care if the storm lasts a week. I'll find a way to hide you so Michael or my father dont find you, okay?"

Gregory snorts at Evan's intense voice, but his heart bursts all the same. "Okay, Evan. I promise."

"Good." Evan sounds appeased. He twists his body, reaching for something, and grabs his phone, putting one earbud in and giving Gregory the other. He opens YouTube, handing the phone to Gregory. "You can pick. Honor of the patient."

Gregory grins, giggling. "Thanks, Doctor Evan."

ao3 link

#it was less that the wound was actually bad #and more that theyre 13 and the wound in question is technically a stab wound and that sounds super bad on paper #so theyre seeing it worse than it may be because its scary #lso having something stabbed in you that isnt supposed to be there #will make you woozy and almost pass out so that just adds to the scary factor for them #i hope some of the details i put in hammered in how uncomfortable evan is in his own home. but since becoming friends with gregory #(lets say a year so theyre both 13 here)#hes grown a bit more of a backbone alongside just getting older #so hes actually doing things that might get him in trouble #like hiding food and towels in his room and blocking the door with furniture #when before he would be too scared to do any of that and just let the torment happen #written with medical inaccuracies (probably) tagged #pandas writes #oneshot #ficlet #flashlight duo #gregory and evan #the aftons #evan #gregory #fnaf gregory #evan afton #flashlight duo modern au #au #blood warning #stabbing mention #blood and injury #mention of child neglect #vomit mention #flashlight duo oneshots

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sonic-adventure-3 · 1 year ago

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remember sonic riders zero gravity? i wanna think about sonic riders zero gravity for a second. that plot was entirely insane. the sonic riders duology went from special race to prove who’s the fastest as a plot to steal the chaos emeralds -> ancient babylonia is unearthed and babylonians are decendants of genies, to eggman created a whole y2k themed city and can completely control it using a meteorite except for some of them who got struck by another meteorite that caused them to go on a global rampage and amd wants all the meteorites so he can control all the robots in the world also did i mention he does all this using a shell company (most evil thing hes done) -> babylon garden implodes into a huge spaceship and black hole and threatens to destroy the world until sonic and co beat up the huge robot that is the spaceship and outrun the black hole also birds are aliens

zero gravity is to riders what shth05 is to sa2. whats up with all the retconning aliens into things. wait they did that with frontiers too didn’t they. WHATS UP WITH ALL THE REVEALING THINGS ARE ACTUALLY ALIENS

#rambles #riders #i may be oversimplifying or misremembering some of that #its really overcomplicated and i have comprehension issues sue me #eggman having a shell company is what really gets me.#also the incredibly huge inaccuracies aboit black holes. i don’t think they really tried on that one #i love zero gravity so fucking much man it’s insane

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lazzywhale · 5 months ago

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Yeyyyy!!✨✨

#welcomehomeau #welcome home au #Bc I created it myself so there may be some mistakes or inaccuracies in this au #i hope you guys can enjoy and have fun with my au.#but it can be gore and horror sometime

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sk-ench · 8 months ago

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bg3 doodles

mostly my tav (ailin, he/she/they) but wyll and gale are here too, and my full party in the last pic <3 (shadowheart, ailin, wyll, and karlach)

ft gale with graphic liner because for a good little while i had a hard time telling if he was wearing any or not because of how light reflected off of his face. i think he should wear some though. maybe everyone should tbh

#skench doodles #bg3 #i do not trust those tadpoles. like yes i may get some benefits but isnt the goal rn to have less tadpoles in our heads not more 🤨🤨#these were all pretty fast doodles so please excuse any wonk or character inaccuracies #bg3 spoilers #pure coincidence that i named him ailin and theres someone named aylin in the game btw

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shawolsos · 2 years ago

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Umm... So I saw @thursdaybluez's Korean Noel headcanon and I fell in love and one thing lead to another and now I have a whole backstory for Noel's mum and how she came to Canada and met Noel's dad and stuff like that 👀👀👀

#i will preface this by saying that I'm not Korean #but i love this headcanon #it just makes so much sense #and i've done my research #and i've tried to be as accurate as possible #but there may be some inaccuracies #but i may drop it #if yall want #noel gruber #ride the cyclone #rtc #rtc brainrot #cerys rambles

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tarry-a-lot · 6 months ago

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"Vivre a en Crever" Jp2013 ver.

"Shisubeki sadamenara" Romaji

WM=Mozart, AS=Salieri, Together

——————————

dialogue.

WM: Tabi no owari wa hontou wa hajimari ni suginainda

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v1.

WM: Shi wo osore

muda ni sugosu

Jinsei ni imi nado nai

.....

AS: Namida mo kurushimi mo

itsuka kieru

Nokoru no wa omide dake

.....

Kinō no jibun kuyamu yori

——————————

c1.

Osorezu kyō to yū hi wo

ikiyou saigo made

Ashita ga mou konai nara

warai tobasou

nanimo kamo

——————————

AS: Mata aou

WM: Mata aou

Sono toki wakaru

subete no imi ga

——————————

*instrumental w/ La Cavalieri singing*

#this was written by ear #so there may be some inaccuracies #mozart l'opera rock #vivre a en crever #antonio salieri #mor #死すべき定めなら #ロックオペラモーツァルト #lyrics #romaji

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milkypiggybeans · 6 days ago

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Wild Life character designs!! These are inspired by 1940s-50s casino wear :D Some design notes under the cut!

- Each team has their own casino-themed motif, which are, in order of appearance above, slot machine icons, card suits, poker chips, coins, 8-balls, and dice. I did not look up the meanings of the card suits, they were chosen based off vibes and aesthetics. BigB does not have any of these motifs, though I may give him some sort of joker theming if he more definitively joins the final girls in the future!

- Bdubs and Cleo have been inconsistent with their skins so both of their designs are a sort of hybrid between their default skins and their life series skins, with Cleo’s being more heavily leaning toward her default skin because the color palette is easier to adapt.

- These outfits are based on 1940s-50s casino wear, as these decades signified the rise of Las Vegas, Hollywood glamour, and a post-Great Depression economy, which fits in nicely with the wild cards and logo of this season. Not every outfit is perfectly accurate to the setting, as I preferred to give them unique designs rather than giving them all different colors of the same suit. Some of the outfits I designed for an earlier decade before I realized Vegas only really got big in the 50s, and I did not modernize most of them so forgive me if some of them look a little too 30s (Etho I kept 30s on purpose bc I think being outdated suits him). and if you know a lot about 1940s-50s fashion please don’t kill me for any inaccuracies i tried my best! special shout out to derek guy (menswear guy on twitter) as his account has taught me so much about proper fitting of suits and these designs would not have come out nearly as good without him

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hvllevator · 8 days ago

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making the bed [c.sc]

MDNI, 18+

SUMMARY | you and seungcheol’s marriage is hanging on by a thread. separate rooms, broken conversations, and barely any contact, it's clear that what you once had is slipping away. desperate for a second chance, you both turn to couples therapy, but when intimacy—or the lack of it—becomes the topic of conversation, everything changes.

PAIRING | husband!seungcheol x afab!reader

CONTENT | nonidol!seungcheol, angst, bad relationships, miscommunication, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie

WORDS | 4.9k

A/N | quick disclaimer i know nothing about therapy sessions, so there may be inaccuracies. i loooved writing this ! i hope u enjoy it as much as i did, pls pls pls leave feedback if u can. ty <3 not proofread !!!

you woke up to yet another feeling of cold sheets beside you. the sun peeking through the curtains, the cool breeze of air conditioning meeting your skin. you shivered at the sensation. you patted seungcheol’s side of the bed, knowing you would be disappointed yet again. your eyes fluttered open, the sight of neatly tucked sheets on the opposite side of the bed made your heart heavy. as if he hadn’t slept there at all.

for months now, your marriage had a cloud looming over it. love that was once warm had grown cold and silent, reduced to taking care of household necessities and meaningless small talk. you couldn’t remember the last time you felt comforted by your husband of three years. and even if you did, the memory wouldn’t bring any comfort.

seungcheol’s career was at its peak. he was a few steps closer to getting promoted to a higher position at the firm he worked at. of course, along with this almost promotion, he had to sacrifice spending time with you. he was never home most days of the week. and if he were home, he would instead be resting and catching up on whatever sports he watched on tv.

needless to say, you were getting tired of that routine. you felt lonely. you tried to keep yourself busy with work or even joining a pilates class, but every corner reminded you of how much you missed your husband. the sight of other wives being picked up from work or how some husbands would join their wives for workouts. the feeling was gnawing at your chest.

you and seungcheol didn’t fight. in fact, you barely even talked. you resorted to cooking his favorite meals–which were mostly piling up in the fridge because he was never home–and steaming his suits for him. the silence that gathered in your home was louder than any argument could ever be.

it was strange, living together, yet he felt farther than when he went on his business trips.

you loved seungcheol. you were so in love with him that the thought of losing him terrified you. but sometimes you wonder if love alone was enough to hold your marriage together. you often thought about what went wrong, questioning if you ever did something to make him lose interest in you.

you sighed, pulling the covers off you to prepare for the day. after showering and brushing your teeth, you headed to the kitchen to make lunch. the silent air greeting you as you walked through your shared apartment. you decided to make coffee for your husband, even if deep down you knew it would just grow cold. you wanted to show your affection for him somehow.

you took a sip of coffee from your cup, the bitterness lingering longer than usual. you glanced at the clock, seeing it was almost time for your therapy appointment.

it was your idea to attend couples’ therapy, seeing it as a last resort to salvage your crumbling marriage. when you first suggested it to seungcheol, he was hesitant and weary about the idea of running to another person about your problems. but seeing that it would mean a lot to you, and he didn’t want to put up a fight, he agreed to give it a try.

you hadn’t seen seungcheol since the previous morning when he hastily left for work. bidding you goodbye with a tired smile when he left you alone in the kitchen. a small part of you was worried he had forgotten about the appointment, not wanting to be disappointed, so you decided to send him a text.

wifey <3: hi, just wanted to remind you about our appointment at 2 pm

you stared at the screen, fingers dancing anxiously as you awaited his response.

cheolie <3: yea, i'll meet u there

that was it. no greeting, no apology for not coming home the night before. you pursed your lips at his response. feeling somewhat disappointed with his nonchalance. you convinced yourself that he was preoccupied with his career, too busy to send you a proper response. but nevertheless you decided to brush it off, tucking your phone in your bag as you got ready to head out.

when you arrived at the clinic, you couldn’t help but glance around the waiting area to find a glimpse of your husband. but to your dismay, you were the first one to arrive. you took a seat in one of the empty chairs, scrolling mindlessly through your phone in an attempt to ignore the tightening feeling in your chest.

exactly a minute before the clock struck 2, the doors swung open, and seungcheol walked in. his hair was messy, bags surrounded his eyes, and his shoulders slumped. he looked like hell, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was affecting him more than it was affecting you. his eyes landed on you and he made his way towards you, sinking in the seat beside you.

“hey.” he said softly, eyes barely meeting yours. hearing his voice reminded you how much you missed him.

“hi.” your eyes scanning him. you heart fluttered at the proximity between the two of you. you weren’t sure whether you were just touch deprived or you just missed your husband too much–it was probably a mix of both–but the thought of having him close to you made your head slightly dizzy. your mouth opened to speak but decided against it. you wanted to tell him that you were glad he made it and how much it mattered to you. but words felt too heavy to speak, so you enjoyed the silent company he provided instead.

the therapist’s door opened, and a nurse emerged, calling his and yours’ last name. you both stood up, walking inside the room side-by-side, hands almost grazing each other.

you and seungcheol settled on the couch in front of the therapist. she offered you a soft smile, eyes flicking between the two of you.

“hi, mr. and mrs. choi. how are you two feeling today?” she asked, her tone gently with a hint of curiosity.

your eyes shifted to seungcheol, wanting to see if he would speak first. he shifted in his seat, clearing his throat. “it’s been… a busy week.” he let out, eyes glancing between you and the therapist.

your lips formed into a frown, fingers fiddling with each other. “it has been tough. recently i’ve been feeling like we’ve been living separate lives despite sharing the same space.” you forced yourself to speak, the words falling out of your mouth before you could even comprehend them. “i’m afraid that if we let it happen for too long, we might lose each other in the process.”

you could feel seungcheol’s gaze on you, his once tired eyes growing soft from taking you in. he could tell you were extremely upset, your lips quivering and your hands playing with one another–which you only did when you were visibly upset. he wanted to reach for your hand, to provide you with comfort. but his cowardness was taking over him.

she leaned forward, her voice soft but firm. “i see. this must be incredibly difficult for both of you.” her eyes flickered between the two of you. “if you both want to reconnect, we need to address the emotional and physical barrier forming between you.”

you felt a lump form in your throat at her words. you glanced at seungcheol only to find him staring at you. his expression was guarded and unreadable. you felt tiny under his gaze, not used to the intensity of his eyes on you.

the therapist cleared her throat, drawing both of your attention to her. “the effort you two took to meet me today is a sign that you both want to save this relationship, but it seems that there’s a lot of distance–both emotional and physical.” you shifted in your seat at her words. you couldn’t deny the truth; it had been a while since you had a proper conversation with seungcheol, let alone a moment of intimacy. “when was the last time you two… shared a moment of true closeness?” her question was left open. still, you and seungcheol know her meaning was leading to one thing.

your cheeks burned slightly at the thought of it. it had been months since you last shared a bed, weeks since he last held you close; you couldn’t even remember the last time you had sex. you glanced at your husband, wondering if he felt the same embarrassment or if the thought of this issue would bring him back to you.

seungcheol let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, a hand rummaging through his hair. “i-i don’t know, it has been a while.” he admitted, voice so soft you barely caught on to what he was saying. “i’ve been too caught up with stuff at work, i don’t think we’ve shared a bed in a while.” hearing him admit your problems made your heart ache. he was capable of acknowledging his mistakes, yet he made no effort to correct them.

she gave you both a sympathetic look. “it’s not uncommon for couples under this kind of strain to lose touch emotionally and physically. often, intimacy is the first thing to slip, but it’s also one of the most important bridges to reconnecting. i’d like to encourage you both to try spending time together, maybe even share the same bed, and just… see how that feels.”

the suggestion lingered in the air. silence erupting from the two of you as you processed her words. glancing at seungcheol, whose gaze was fixated on the floor while it seemed like he was in deep thought. seungcheol lifted his head, facing you briefly, his eyes filled with vulnerability for the first time in a long time. you caught your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding at your therapist while sending her a soft smile.

the session ended with an agreement to try. hoping that the words you heard today were a head start to fixing your crumbling marriage.

seungcheol mentioned that he had to return to work but promised to be home early. without having a choice, you went separate ways and decided to go home. your heart was heavy on the drive home. you weren’t sure how he took the session today and all you wanted was to talk to him, to hold him, for him to remind you that everything would be okay and that he loved you.

as the afternoon turned into evening, you couldn’t help but pace around the apartment. you already tried everything to keep your mind off of what happened today, but it was nearly impossible. your habit of cleaning every surface took place, every inch of the house spotless as you awaited your husband’s return. even catching up on your favorite series couldn’t help you keep your mind at ease.

you found yourself checking your phone every so often, the time taunting you as it nearly reached 7 pm and there were still no signs of seungcheol. you sighed, feeling a twinge of disappointment form in your heart. not wanting to feel the empty space of the house any longer, you decided to get ready for bed.

after taking a shower and doing your skincare, exhaustion begins to seep through your body. you felt stupid, stupid to think that seungcheol wanted it to work as much as you did. you started to accept that maybe he no longer needed you, no longer felt the same affection he had for you when you first started going out.

you lay in bed, going under the covers as tears escaped your eyes. the memories of you and your husband’s early days haunting you, wondering where it all went wrong.

you hadn’t noticed that you cried yourself to sleep. the sound of rustling around awoke you from your slumber. with heavy eyes, you tried to make out the source of the noise.

“fuck.” seungcheol whispered as he dropped his phone that had his flashlight on as he tried to navigate the room in the dark.

“cheol?” you mumbled, hand rubbing your eye as you sat in bed. seungcheol turned to face you with an apologetic look on his face.

“y/n!” he said, surprised, guilty that he had woken you up. “did i wake you? i’m sorry, i was trying to find a change of clothes.”

you leaned over the bedside table, turning on the lamp to provide light for him. eyes secretly glancing at the time, seeing that it was only 8 pm. “don’t apologize, this is your room too.” you said, but it felt more like a reminder than a statement; it had been so long since he slept here with you.

without saying a word, he stepped towards the bed, sitting on the edge while his back faced you. his shoulders were tense; you could tell he had much on his mind.

you watched with worried eyes as he sighed before he turned to face you. “i’m sorry, y/n.” his gaze was soft, lips dry as he mustered up the courage to speak to you. you inched towards him in bed, sitting directly in front of his body that was turned to you. “i know i’ve been… absent these past couple of weeks, months even. and your head was probably filled with thoughts about what was going on, and i-“ he gulped, tears forming in his eyes. it had been so long since he opened his feelings to you since he looked at you with warm eyes and honesty. the nights you spent alone and mornings waking up next to an untouched bed flashed before you. “i was trying to prove something… to myself, to you.” he admitted, his eyes filled with shame and regret. still, you listened to his words intently. “i thought that if i kept my head down and focused on work, i could finally give us this picture-perfect life that you deserve. and i-i thought you’d be okay with waiting.”

you took a moment to register his words. your fingers absentmindedly fiddling with one another–which he caught. you hadn’t been okay. the loneliness swallowed you these past few months, and his physical distance from you only made it worse. you missed him. you missed his scent, his touch–his hand on your back as you slept, the feeling of his arms around your shoulders, the way he pulled you close in his sleep. you missed the feeling of his soft lips, the feeling of his hands on your body. it had been so long since you felt good.

“you have no idea how hard it’s been, seungcheol.” you started, voice almost trembling as you spoke. “going to bed alone, having no clue if you’d even come home to me. i felt like i was losing you, little by little.”

“god, no.” for the first time in forever, seungcheol reached for your hands instinctively. comfort rushing through your body by his touch. he held your hands tightly, his eyes pleading. “i thought i was doing this for us, y/n, but i was being so selfish. i pushed you away. i pushed us away.” his voice cracked, pain written all over his face. “i missed you. i missed everything about you. i missed us.” he admitted, his thumb gliding over your hands in an attempt to provide solace. “i didn’t want to fail you, y/n.”

his eyes shut, a tear slipping down his cheek. you reached out to cup his face, your thumb wiping away his tears. you felt him lean against your touch, making your heart ache. you couldn’t remember the last time he had been this vulnerable with you. you could see how deeply he felt the loss, even if he had hidden it from you.

seungcheol’s eyes fluttered opened, his voice barely above a whisper. “i promise i’ll make up for the lost time. i want to show you that i’m here and i’m sorry. you’re not losing me.”

his words impacted you harder than you had expected, providing you with both comfort and hurt. it felt silly to be so relieved by his simple promise. but after longing for him for so long, you couldn’t help it. it was exactly what you were waiting to hear. the assurance from him was more than enough to give you ease.

instead of saying anything, you leaned forward and rested your forehead against his. he exhaled softly at your touch. god, you missed him. it meant everything to you that he was here. actually here.

“cheol.” you mumbled, eyes shutting. “i missed you so much.”

you felt him nod lightly. “i know, angel.” hearing his pet name for you flooded you with warm memories. “i missed you, too. more than you could imagine.” his hand slid to the back of your neck. you pulled away from his forehead, eyes staring up at him as he rubbed the skin. slightly shivering at his touch as it reached down into the parts of you that had felt cold and empty for so long. “let me make up for the lost time.” his voice was deep as his gaze on you darkened.

your eyes fluttered open, gaze falling to his lips. you let your hands slide down his shoulder, almost pulling his body close to you. he leaned closer to you, his breath fanning your face, lips brushing against yours. you melted into his touch as he connected his lips with yours. your hands finding their way to his chest as the kiss deepened, feeling his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. it reminded you that he was actually here, and you weren’t alone as you had felt for all those months.

seungcheol wrapped his arms around your waist as he laid you on the bed, your back meeting the soft sheets as he climbed between your legs. his thigh rubbing against your core that was growing warm with his every touch. feeling the tension between you dissipate with each kiss and touch. the gap between the two of you shrinking as he showed you just how much he missed you.

his fingers made their way to the hem of your shirt, pulling away from your lips to tug the fabric off your body, leaving your upper half naked. he groaned at the sight of you, reminding him how much he missed seeing your body. “god, i missed you.” he whispered before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. moaning when his hand slipped between your legs, hand cupping your pussy that was growing wet at his mere touch. your body craving him more than you anticipated.

“cheol, i need you.” you whimpered against his lips as his fingers traced over your clothed core. desperation lacing from your voice made him grow hard against his suit. feeling his hard-on against your thigh. your hands reached up to undo his tie before unbuttoning his shirt. he hovered over you to give you more access, sliding the shirt off once you were done. you shamelessly checked him out, running your fingers over his chiseled chest. you almost forgotten how much you loved his body.

seungcheol hooked his fingers around the waistband of your shorts and underwear. sliding them down your legs, feeling your arousal sticking to the fabric. in a swift movement, he inched his body down the bed until his head was in between your thighs, face dangerously close to your throbbing pussy. he took a whiff, your familiar scent welcoming him. “you smell amazing, baby.” his arm hooked around and over your thigh, pulling your body close to him. bringing two fingers up to your entrance, collecting your arousal, and spreading it up to your clit. “so wet and needy for me.”

you moaned at his touch, hips bucking upwards as you tried to get more friction but his grip around you prevented you from moving. he softly smiled at your state, wasting no time in pressing his tongue against your clit. you gasped, hand flying down to grip his hair.

seungcheol ran his tongue up and down your folds, lips sucking on your clit, occasionally flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. the sudden movements had your back arching off the bed, hand gripping the sheets beneath you as his tongue lapped your hole. “f-feels so good.” you whimpered.

his free hand snaked around your body, his thumb circling your clit while his tongue fucked your entrance. the sensation driving you crazy as you let out curses. he knew your body all too well. he knew exactly how to push you over the edge even after all these months.

“my pretty girl. i bet your pussy was waiting for me, hm?” he hummed against your folds, the vibrations sending shocks throughout your body. you lifted your head to meet his gaze, his eyes flickering to yours. maintaining eye contact, he slipped his fingers down your core, abruptly inserting two of them inside you. you could barely let out words once you felt his digits curl inside you. he beamed once he saw you writhe beneath his touch, glad that you weren’t that disconnected from each other in every way.

seungcheol pressed his mouth against your clit, sucking on the bud as his fingers relentlessly fucked your hole. thrusting them in and out of you in addicting movements. your hips jerk up from the overwhelming pleasure. toes curling as you felt a knot form in your stomach.

“p-please, cheolie, i want to cum.” your voice shaking as he continued his movements. your hand reaching up to your breast, squeezing them as you felt your orgasm forming.

“let it out, angel.” he whispered against your clit, sucking on it harshly to the point tears fill your eyes. without warning, you came undone with his fingers in you, cursing his name. your insides clenching around his digits as his movements slowed down. you head thrown back against the mattress as you let out shaky breaths.

seungcheol detached his mouth from your clit, pulling his fingers away before entrapping them with his lips. savouring your cum to account for the many months that went by without tasting you. “my good girl.”

seungcheol kneeled between your legs, his cock hard against his stomach–you hadn’t even noticed he took his pants off. you lifted your head to face him, mouth watering at the sight. nearly forgetting how big and thick his cock was. you wrapped your fingers around his length, pumping it lightly before stroking it. his hips inching towards you as he leaned into your touch. your thumb running over his tip that was leaking with precum. you looked at him through your lashes, but his eyes were already dark and focused on you.

“fuck, baby.” he grunted once you jerked him off, but his hand reached for your wrist to prevent your movement. “stop teasing, princess. i need my cock inside your pussy.” his confession made sparks shoot throughout your body and onto your cunt.

seungcheol positioned his body between your legs, gripping his cock in one hand, aligning it with your entrance. you couldn’t help the moans that escaped your lips as he glided the tip of his cock along your folds, spreading your wetness before sinking into you. you gasped at the size of his length. your fingernails digging (careful not to hurt him) into his shoulders as you adjusted to his size.

“i know, baby.” his voice soothed you, hushing you as tears threatened to escape your eyes. fuck, you forgot how his dick felt inside you. “you’re taking me so well, angel.” he pressed kisses all over your face.

once he was balls deep in you, he stayed still for a moment. letting you get used to the sensation, he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“m-move, please.” your voice barely a whisper. “you’re so big, cheolie.”

seungcheol growled at your words, slowly starting to move his hips. “missed your pussy, baby.” you felt every inch of his cock in you, insides splitting from his size. your insides burning, but it felt so fucking good. you bucked your hips, meeting his thrusts.

he took this as a sign to gradually increase his speed, his hips rocking into you faster. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him even closer to you, scared that if you let go, he’ll disappear again.

the proximity allowing him to bury his cock deeper into you. in a swift motion, he pulled his cock out before slamming his hips against yours. sounds of skin slapping filling the room, along the moans that emit from you and the groans that escape his throat. he buried his face into your neck, leaving soft kisses against the skin.

“you feel so fucking good, shit.” his hand sneaked to your breast, taking your nipple in between his fingers, circling the sensitive bud. the rough pad of his thumb and index adding to the overwhelming pleasure. “fuck, i’m never leaving you alone ever again.”

you don’t know if it was his words or the pleasure from his cock that brought tears to your eyes. he pulled away from your neck, towering over you as he held eye contact with you. “my pretty wife, i love you so much.”

“i-i love you, cheol.” you breathed out, feeling him twitch inside you from your confession. the words felt foreign from your lips, but the feeling was reeling in so many memories. he picked up his pace again, relentlessly fucking you as if to remind you that he’s here now.

seungcheol leaned forward, capturing your lips with his. the kiss was more passionate and needy, his taste leaving you intoxicated. his hand inching down to your clit, rubbing circles on the nub. the stimulation building your orgasm even more. he knew you were getting close when you clenched around him, driving him to fuck into you deeper and harder.

“are you gonna cum for me, angel?” his voice deep as he watched you squirm underneath his touch. he latched his lips to your chest, sucking on the skin softly, enough to surely leave a mark. the overwhelming amount of pleasure he was providing was enough to drive you insane. the coil in your stomach begging to be released. “cum all over my cock, baby, let me feel you.” with the encouragement of his words, you released all over his cock. stars clouding your vision as you ride out your high. “s-shit, baby.” the sight of you cumming on his cock was enough to send seungcheol over the edge. with a few final thrusts, his warm seed burst inside you, painting your walls white, groans filling the room.

seungcheol slowly retreated his cock from you, his cum spilling from your pussy. you winced at the sticky feeling. he pressed a quick kiss on your forehead before he disappeared into the bathroom and grabbed a towel which he ran under cold water. he returned and immediately nursed you, dragging the towel up and down your entrance which made you giggle.

“thank you.” you mumbled as he went to return the towel in the bathroom.

“anything for my beautiful wife.” seungcheol grabbed a shirt from the closet, handing it to you because he knew how much you loved wearing his shirts to bed. even helping you slip it on your body. your heart warmed at the sight of him taking care of you. you barely noticed that he climbed into bed and pulled you close to his chest. “i told you, i’ll make it up to you, my love.” he whispered, pressing a kiss on the side of your head.

you could only nod at his words, feeling slumber take over you. hearing him whisper how much he loved you before falling unconscious.

you woke up to the warmth of a body shifting beside you, feeling the familiar weight of your husband’s arm around your waist. the soft morning light greeted you as you opened your eyes. you glanced at his sleeping figure, taking in the sight of his relaxed face, lashes resting against cheeks and lips slightly parted. he was still here. your heart was pounding so loudly that you were sure he'd hear it if he were awake.

your hand reached up to brush away the strands of hair falling onto his face. but before you could do so, his eyes fluttered open, a soft smile forming on his lips as he focused on you.

“g’morning.” seungcheol mumbled, voice deep and husky, still laced with sleep.

“good morning.” you responded, unable to hide the chipper in your voice. you rested your hand on his bare chest, rubbing the skin comfortingly, slightly scared that you were in a dream.

his hand fell to your back, pulling your body close to him. “i meant it, you know.” he whispered, his thumb rubbing circles along your back. “i don’t want us to fall apart again.”

your chest tightened at his words, but this time, the ache was different–it was hopeful. “neither do i.” leaning your head against his neck, softly kissing the skin.

“you have me forever, baby.” he said, a promise that felt as grounding as his touch on your body.

you closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his embrace engulf you. comfortable silence taking over as you lay there in each other’s arms. you both knew this was just the start of finding your way back to one another.

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soaps-mohawk · 9 months ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 6: One Step Closer

Summary: You're all trying to adjust to the changes happening between you and the members of your pack.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, some Price x Gaz

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, suggestive content, handjobs, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language

A/N: I'm not entirely happy with this one and might come back when I feel better and do some changes, but for now, it's fine. Mostly just a filler chapter more than anything. Some sweet moments, some maybe steamy...Building up for some more exciting things coming in the next parts. Also I just wanted to clear something up, pretty much everyone in this universe is at least a little bisexual. That will make sense once you read the chapter.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

(Gif found on Google)

He curses the click of the door as it opens, making sure to go slowly so it doesn’t squeak as it’s prone to when it rains. His lips turn up in a smile as he catches a glimpse at the sight on the couch, no more than half a moment before Price’s honed senses cause him to wake at the change in atmosphere.

He blinks tired eyes at Gaz, head lifting from where it had drooped to his chest in his sleep. He adjusts his hold on you, still asleep and unaware in the safety of your alpha’s arms.

“Sleeping in your office again, sir?” Gaz says quietly, stepping closer to the couch.

Price grunts quietly, shifting his hold on you so he can lift a hand to rub at his eyes. His voice is thick and gravelly with sleep as he answers. “Didn’t mean to.”

Gaz hums, running a hand through Price’s hair as the air between them changes from Captain and Sergeant to alpha and beta. “Should get you both to bed.”

“You take her.” Price murmurs. “She’ll forgive you easier for invading her space.”

Gaz knows he’s right. He’d already been invited in once. His scent in your space would be less jarring than Price’s. Price carefully unravels your arms from around his neck, letting Gaz slip his arms under you to lift you off his lap. You stir slightly at the movement, letting out a quiet grumble.

“Shh pretty girl.” Gaz shushes you, letting your head rest against his shoulder. “Just taking you to bed.”

Price follows behind him as he carries you through the halls to your room. You’re asleep by the time he reaches your door, Price opening it for him. Gaz slips in, carrying you to your bed. He makes sure you’re comfortable, tucking the blanket around you before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

He spares one last glance at you fast asleep before he closes the door, turning to Price. “Your turn.”

“You gonna carry me too?” Price asks, a playful glint shining in his eyes despite the obvious exhaustion.

Gaz huffs out a laugh. “You wish.” He puts a hand on his back, guiding Price down to his door, closest to the entry to the barracks.

He follows the alpha into his space, meticulously clean and tidy as usual. They both blink against the harsh overhead light, Gaz leaning against the door as Price begins emptying his pockets, getting settled in his space.

“She knelt for me tonight.” Price says as he sits at his desk to unlace his boots.

“She’s making headway.” Gaz replies, surprised that you asked to kneel so soon. He knows how meaningful kneeling is to both alpha and omega, how intense it can be, how much trust there is involved.

Price hums, standing to remove his pants. “I fear Laswell was right. She’s turning out to be a good fit.”

“She’s already got Simon worked up.” Gaz smiles, moving to the dresser to fish out clean sleep clothes. “I fear she may be taking a page out of Johnny’s book.”

“Well, if it gets him to stop torturing himself, then I can’t say I’ll complain.” Price says, pulling his shirt over his head. “You know how he is.”

“I know.” Gaz says, holding out the clean shirt and sweatpants. “Can’t say I blame him entirely. Not after what he’s been through.”

Price slips on the clean clothes, stepping closer to Gaz. “He’ll warm up to our girl eventually.”

“‘Our girl?’” Gaz’s eyebrows lift as Price steps in even closer, their noses brushing. “That’s quite the jump.”

“She’s been our girl from the start. As soon as those papers were finalized, there was no sending her back.” Price says, pressing a kiss to the corner of Gaz’s lips. “I wouldn’t put her through that. Not after everything.”

Gaz pulls back, Staring at Price’s face. “You know something.”

“I wouldn’t say I know anything, but I have my suspicions.” He moves past Gaz, turning off the overhead light. “I know we all do.”

“You think she’ll tell us?”

“I think she will, with time. I don’t want to push her into too much too soon.” He pats Gaz on the ass. “Come on, in bed.”

“Sir, yes sir.” Gaz smirks, Price giving him a look as the beta pulls down the covers, crawling into the bed.

Price groans internally, trying to calm the twitch in his pants at the mental picture of you, those big puppy eyes shining playfully as you saluted him. The small spark of excitement every time you call him “sir.” How easily you relaxed for him while you knelt, giving over complete trust and control to him for an hour.

He crawls under the covers, tossing an arm over Gaz, trying to block out all the mental images flashing through his head.

“Forget something in your pocket, sir?” Gaz says, the smirk evident in his voice.

“Shut it, Garrick.”

You’re jarred awake by the sound of movement in the hallway. You let out a quiet noise of indignation, letting your eyes close again. It’s too early, around the time the boys leave to go workout. You’ve been graciously given a couple days off to rest and recover, likely Price’s recommendation. You knew if it were up to Ghost, he’d force you to work through the pain. You’re glad for the break, though, and you would be even if you weren’t horribly sore.

Your head is still spinning a bit from last night. You’re not quite sure how you made it to bed, but the faint scent of clean linen and the sea gives you an idea. You bury your face in your pillow, letting out a groan. You knelt for Price last night. You opened yourself up to that vulnerability, and he had graciously guided and supported you through it. He didn’t scruff you, even though he could have, nor was there any demand for control in his grasp, he could have easily taken it.

He’d been a good alpha, helping you relax and destress. You feel lighter for the first time in weeks, since you found out where you were going and who your new pack was going to be. You feel lighter than you have in your entire time on this base, though that could just be the endorphins still flowing a bit from kneeling for your alpha.

It’ll be easier to come down from it once you’re bonded, you know that. Once there’s that connection between you, and you’re around him all the time. You’ll be moving into his room, or at least you’ll spend most of your time in there. You’ll sleep in his bed with him. You wonder if he’s a cuddler, or if he prefers personal space. Would Gaz join you sometimes? You can practically feel the warmth of being sandwiched between them, battle hardened hands trailing along your bare body because you’ll be naked and well bonded with both of them.

You bury your burning face in your pillow letting out a muffled, quiet scream at the thoughts your mind is conjuring. You feel hot, warmth pooling in your stomach. There’s no going back to sleep now, you know that.

You get up, rushing to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face and erase the thoughts in your head. It’s entirely natural, having these thoughts. You will get to that place, very soon, with Price. The others could pursue that sort of relationship with you as well, if they wanted to. It will likely happen naturally with Gaz, given his bond with Price, and after your kiss with Soap...

You’re not sure if it would happen with Ghost, or if he would allow it. You can’t help but think about yesterday, how easily he had overpowered you with just his scent. You had been scared, as it was your nature to be when an alpha was posing a direct threat to you, but the way he had looked hovering over you, the feeling of him pressed against you when he’d pinned you to the floor. How easily he got you into that position. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of him pinning you down like that, or better, pinning you against Soap, his hand on the back of your neck.

You splash cold water on your face, holding your breath until your lower body stops pulsing in time with your heart. You let out a quiet curse, focusing on getting ready for the day before grabbing your book and heading for the rec room to try and calm yourself.

“You’re up early, love.”

You jump at the voice, lowering your book as you look up from your spot stretched out on the couch. Gaz is standing there, skin dewy with sweat. They must have just returned from their morning workout, heading in to shower and get ready for the day. Gaz must have noticed your scent and followed it.

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” You explain as he moves closer to the couch. “Gaz!” You shriek as he crawls over you, dropping his body on top of yours. “You’re all sweaty!”

“You can shower later.” He says, resting his face against your chest, his elbows pressed into the cushions so he’s not completely squishing you with his weight.

“You should be showering now.” You say, trying not to breathe in too much of his scent. It’s heavily tainted with the scent of sweat and musk.

“Then we can shower together.” He murmurs, nuzzling his face further into your chest.

Your face warms, your heart rate picking up at his teasing. The thought of being enclosed in the shower with him, such a small space, packed in together. Skin to skin, bare before each other. You might implode beneath him, warmth beginning to travel down your spine after your thoughts earlier.

“Relax.” He murmurs with a grin, obviously picking up the quickening of your heart rate and the change in your scent. “I’m teasing.”

He’s just as bad as Soap, but not quite as blatant with it. While Soap would tease at any open opportunity, Gaz tended to choose his moments wisely, slipping some teasing remark in when you least expected it.

Gaz goes quiet as he lays there, his breathing steady. You mark your page before reaching up to set the book on the arm of the couch. You can’t help yourself as you run your fingers through his short cropped, damp curls, gently scratching at his scalp. He makes a quiet noise, his body getting heavier.

“Gaz?” You murmur, earning a grunt in response. “Are you falling asleep?”

“Can’t help it.” He murmurs. “So comfy.”

Your cheeks warm as he nuzzles into your chest, letting out a content sigh. You fight the urge to release one of your own, feeling warm and content even pressed against the lumpy cushions of the couch. How easy it is to find comfort even in the most uncomfortable places.

It doesn’t have to be uncomfortable.

Your heart rate kicks up again, hand stilling where it had been scratching Gaz’s scalp. You’re allowed to want. You asked yesterday and nothing bad happened.

“Gaz?” You murmur, trying to fight the nervous twisting of your stomach. “Would you...if I wanted something, would you get it for me, even if it’s stupid?”

Gaz shifts on top of you, knees pressing into the couch as he pushes himself higher so you’re face to face. One of his legs is between yours, holding him up so he doesn’t squish you under his weight.

He stares down at you, blinking the haze of sleep from his dark eyes. “Babygirl, I’d take over the world for you if that’s what you wanted.”

Your lips part in surprise at his answer. You’re not entirely sure he’s allowed to say something like that, even as a joke. The sentiment of it is not lost on you, and you find tears prickling the backs of your eyes.

His arms shift beneath you, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “Tell me what you want.”

You stare up into those big, sweet, dark eyes. Gaz radiates a kindness and calmness like you haven’t felt in a long time. Not that the others aren’t kind, even in Ghost and his aggressiveness, you’ve felt the protective drive within him. It wasn’t based on any claim or sense of ownership, even a sense of duty couldn’t bring forward that kind of reaction. But Gaz...there’s just something so soft and gentle despite the danger he could pose.

“Kiss me.” You blurt out, realizing you’ve been staring for far too long.

Gaz stares down at you, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. “Just that? Here I thought you were gonna say something impossible like world domination.”

“Well, if you’re offering...” You shrug.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Probably shouldn’t be making those jokes.” He leans down closer. “Though, if you asked nicely...”

You let out a quiet sound as his lips press against yours. They’re just as soft as they look, pressing against yours so gently and softly. Your arms lift to his shoulders, curling into the fabric of his shirt. He coaxes your lips to move with his, copying his movements as he tilts his head slightly.

Warmth blooms beneath your skin as he kisses you, your head spinning. His scent invades your nose, seeping into your very being. You want to curl up in it, let it surround you like a warm blanket. You catch the whiff of something deeper, the scent of damp earth. Price. You have a sudden urge to pull his shirt collar to the side, to stare at the mark that decorates his scent gland at the base of his throat, a mirror of the one you’ll carry in a few short weeks.

“Ye didnae tell me ye were startin’ a cuddle pile!”

An excited voice causes you both to separate, Gaz barely managing to lift himself up enough so that you don’t get squished when Soap practically jumps on his back.

“Bloody hell, mate,” Gaz grunts. “Tryna squish our poor omega?”

The weight above you shifts before Soap’s head appears over Gaz’s shoulder, a wide grin on his face. “Mornin’ hen!”

“For someone so small, you weigh a ton.” Gaz says with a strain to his voice as sweat breaks out across his forehead from keeping his weight and Soap's off of you.

“I'm no that small.” Soap says, an offended tone to his voice as he goes limp on top of Gaz.

You can't help but giggle at their antics, especially as Gaz pushes himself up to a kneeling position, nearly sending Soap rolling to the floor. Your face is warm from your giggling as they both stand, playfully pushing each other.

“Alright, enough you two.” Price's voice cuts through their playful arguing, amusement shining in his eyes as he leans on the doorframe. “Almost time for breakfast.”

“Come on.” Gaz says, taking your hands and helping you up. “Let's get some pancakes in you before you turn into one.”

“You should try courting her.” Kyle says, scrolling through his phone as he lounges on John's bed. “Like old-fashioned courting.”

“What are you on about?” John grumbles, drying his face with a towel.

“Our little omega. You should try courting her.” Kyle repeats, looking over his phone at John.

John tosses his towel into his hamper before approaching the bed. Kyle lets his eyes rake over his form, his strong arms and soft stomach, thick, strong thighs and the prominent bulge at the front of his briefs.

“It would be worth a try.” Kyle continues, letting John pull the phone from his hands. “Omegas love that shit.”

“And what prompted this thought?” John asks, laying down on his side next to Kyle, pulling the younger man closer.

“She's getting all worked up by us now.” He says, biting back a groan as John trails a hand over his side. “She's kissed Soap and I so far. Got all worked up when I teased her about showering together this morning.” His hand trails through John's short hair as John licks at his throat. “I think she'd enjoy a little attention from her alpha.”

“What do you have in mind?” John murmurs before sinking his teeth into the soft skin of Kyle's throat.

Kyle shrugs, letting out a gasp as John bites at his throat. “Take her out for dinner? Buy her some things for her room? Give in to those alpha cravings a bit.”

John lets out a low growl, pinning Kyle on the bed beneath him. Kyle's lips lift in a smirk, fingers lifting to run through John's beard. His thumb drags across John's lower lip, gaze soft as he stares up at the alpha.

“You won't ruin anything by doing it. There's only so much time until her heat. If I were an alpha, I'd want her to be as comfortable as possible before then. Makes the shift into bonded pack life much easier.” Kyle says.

John leans down until their noses brush, groaning softly as Kyle digs his fingers into his shoulders. He knows Kyle is right. He should make an effort with you, at least try to ensure you're as comfortable around him as possible before he claims you. Most alphas wouldn't have waited for the first heat, wouldn't have even waited a week before claiming, before taking their omega to bed. He doesn't want to be like those alphas. He doesn't want to force you into more than you already have been, more than you will be.

He wants things to happen as naturally as possible, but that doesn't mean he can't try.

Kyle leans up, closing the distance between them and kissing him. He presses his beta back into the mattress, nipping harshly at his lips. Their tongues tangle together, tasting like peppermint toothpaste and something distinctly alpha and beta.

John presses his body closer to Kyle's groaning as his half hard cock drags against Kyle's. Kyle moans into his mouth as John begins grinding against him. Their bodies move together, a familiar dance they've both memorized the steps to.

John groans as Kyle's fingers trail down his back, blunt nails biting into the skin. Breathy moans slip from kiss-bruised plump lips as John kisses down Kyle's throat. Calloused fingers slip under the waistband of John's briefs, teasing the soft supple skin beneath. John grinds down against him harder, dragging his leaking cock against Kyle's twitching one.

“Fuck, Cap.” Kyle groans, bucking up against his alpha. “Lemme feel you.”

John wraps his arms around Kyle, flipping them over so he's on top. Kyle makes quick work of his boxers, tugging John's briefs down roughly. He groans, licking his lips at the sight of his alpha's leaking cock.

“Like what you see, pup?” John asks, lips lifting in a smirk.

“Fuck yes.” Kyle breathes, settling himself on John's thighs.

He leans down, wrapping a hand around both his and John's cocks. John groans as Kyle begins stroking them both, his cock twitching as more precum slips from his tip. He's close, the pent up frustrations from the last couple days along with the tantalizing scent of omega driving him to near insanity.

He feels like he might pop a knot as Kyle picks up the pace, one hand braced against his chest, his hips rocking in short thrusts. His head falls back as his orgasm slams into him, hit cum spurting across his stomach. Kyle groans loudly, frantically pumping his own cock as he reaches his peak, spurting his spend across his alpha's stomach too.

“Made quite the mess, Sergeant.” John says, trailing his fingers through the mix of cum on his stomach.

“Would you like me to clean it up, sir?” Kyle smirks, opening his mouth to allow John's fingers to push in.

His tongue swirls around his thick fingers, lapping them clean. Kyle shifts on top of him, bending down and trailing his tongue across John's stomach, licking up their mess.

“Good boy.” John hums, gently cradling the back of Kyle's neck.

The sky is dark as you make your way from your room. Gaz and Price are nowhere to be found, your cheeks warming at the thought of where they could be and what they could be up to. You take a breath to steady yourself, and your scent, before you head into the rec room. Soap and Ghost are there, Soap on the opposite end of the couch as usual, and Ghost in the chair next to the couch that faces the door.

He sees you first, his shoulders squaring just a bit. Soap turns to the doorway, a typical grin splitting his face when he sees you. It’s been a while since you’ve seen anyone be happy to see you, and you can’t deny that Soap’s joy is a bit contagious. He’s like an excited puppy. You can imagine if he had a tail, it would be wagging non-stop.

“Come tae join us, hen?” He asks, holding out a hand.

Ghost’s eyes are sharp as they stare at you, the silent warning not lost. You’re infringing on their space, infringing on his protective circle around his beta. You’re pushing a boundary and that could be dangerous.

It could be.

You move forward, taking Soap’s hand, letting him tug you down next to him on the couch. You ignore the eyes burning into you, boring holes into your skin as you settle in as close to Soap as you can. You almost smile in victory as Soap drapes his arm across the back of the couch, your attention turning to whatever is playing on the TV.

Ghost and Soap continue their conversation, Soap's fingers brushing your arm every so often. You can feel every time Ghost's burning gaze turns to you, every time he glowers at you for being so close to his beta. You can't help but wonder what's going through his mind, what he's thinking, what he's imagining.

You'll pay for this later.

You can only imagine how he'll punish you in your training for boldly breaching such an obvious boundary.

Soap doesn't seem to notice, or perhaps he simply doesn't care. It's not like you're not allowed to be close to Soap. As a member of your new pack, he had every right to pursue a bond with you if he wanted, regardless of how Ghost felt. Even though they're bonded, Soap is still his own person.

It's almost ironic.

You're starting to feel the exhaustion of your early morning as the night drags on, your head getting heavier and heavier. Ghost's need to glower at you has lessened a bit, his eyes only on you whenever you shift or move. Your head has drooped onto Soap's shoulder, an idea forming in your mind. You're sure it's the exhaustion making you so bold, or perhaps your new belief that the only way you'll even stand a chance at getting through to Ghost is to push those boundaries and stand up to him.

You lift your head, shifting your body until you're laying on the couch, resting your head on Soap's thigh. You watch Ghost's hands curl into fists where they rest on his lap, his eyes burning through your head as you make yourself comfortable. Soap's hand sinks into your hair, massaging your scalp as you lay there, your lips curling into a content smile.

You know it has to be eating at him just a little. A content beta and a preening omega, an image of what he could have if he simply got over whatever is keeping him from accepting you.

“Tired, lass?” Soap's gentle voice pulls you from your thoughts. Your mind had started to doze a bit, trailing off with your thoughts.

You make a quiet noise in agreement, nuzzling against his thigh.

“Let's get ye tae bed.” He says, squeezing your arm.

You're not expecting Ghost to follow as Soap leads you from the rec room, your fingers entwined with his. Even in your tired state you can feel the icy stare at your back, the looming presence of the alpha behind you as Soap walks you to your door.

“Night, hen.” Soap murmurs softly.

You're sure it's the exhaustion making you delirious as you stand on your toes, pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. Soap hums against your lips, bending down to follow you as you go to pull away. You ignore the tickling at the back of your neck as he presses another kiss to your lips, your hand reaching for your doorknob and the security of your room.

“Night, Soap.” You murmur, slipping into your room before Ghost makes a rash decision.

You're going to regret it later, but you certainly don't at this moment.

The fabric isn’t as soft as it used to be. It’s been worn too much, washed too many times. You’ve stitched the ripped seam back together, a bit sloppy but you can hardly tell thanks to the luck of finding thread the same color as the sweatshirt. You hold it in your hands, staring at the frayed edges, the loose strings. Well loved, some might call it. Garbage, others might think.

“Finally fixing the holes?”

The voice cutting through the silence makes you jump, your head whipping around to the door. Price is standing there, leaning against the doorframe.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to startle you.” He says.

“It’s alright, sir.” You say, calming your racing heart. You hadn’t even heard him approach. “I thought you were all at training.”

“I had a call I had to take.” He says, entering the room now that you’ve calmed. “Was heading back out when I caught a whiff of your scent.” He lowers himself onto the couch with a quiet groan, staring softly at you.

“I know it’s stupid, holding onto it when I could just ask for a new one.” You say, staring down at the sweatshirt in your hands.

“But it’s more than just a sweatshirt.” He says, tone soft and understanding.

You sink your teeth into your lip, fingers curling into the fabric in your hands. “One of the omegas at the institute gave it to me.” You say, holding the sweatshirt to your chest. “We were the same age so we were grouped together a lot and we got really close. She gave it to me when we reached selection age, since we both knew we were likely to get chosen fast and she wanted to give me something to remember her by. It’s a good thing she did too, because she did get chosen almost immediately.” You let out a quiet laugh, blinking back tears. “I’ve held on to it ever since. It doesn't even smell like her anymore. Hasn’t for a long time.”

Price is quiet for a few moments, his eyes on your face. You can’t look at him, your gaze on the sweatshirt in your lap. “You loved her.” He finally says, his tone not accusing or even disgusted.

It’s understanding. Knowing.

You take a shaky breath, hands closing into nervous fists around the sweatshirt. “Institutes try everything they can to prevent omegas from bonding with each other. Makes it too hard to separate us once we come of age. Alphas don’t want a distressed, unhappy omega, they’re expecting an eager, willing addition to their pack. It’s hard though, when you spend literal years together experiencing the same thing to not form bonds with each other.”

Price huffs quietly. “My grandfather used to tell me about the traditional pack boom after World War 2. When militaries across the world began to forbid bonding and pack formation within ranks. They were spending more time and money on preventing it from happening than anything else. It didn’t take them long to realize it was easier to allow the organic bonds to form. It made soldiers stronger, gave them purpose. It’s easier to look away than to fight what nature intends sometimes.” He smiles at you, stretching his arm across the back of the couch. “We are the last people that will judge you for it.”

You know that. You've known that from the start. The way their scents mingle, their bonds. They're a bonded pack for a reason.

“She never knew. Or, I never told her. I don't know where she ended up or where she is now.” You shrug, letting out a sardonic huff. “It's a lonely existence sometimes, being an omega.”

“I can only imagine.” Price says, giving you a sad smile.

“I suppose I should just get rid of it.” You say, staring at the sweatshirt. “No use holding onto something that could have never been.”

Price squeezes your shoulder gently. “Wait here.”

He gets up, leaving you alone in the rec room. You wait patiently for him to return, growing a bit nervous. What was he doing? Was he telling someone about your confession? Was he going to send you back because of it? You know your worries are unwarranted, but you can't stop them.

He returns a few moments later, a sweatshirt in his hands. “Here.” He says, holding it out to you. “They're standard issue, but I've never been one for sweatshirts. It's just been sitting in my closet.”

You take the sweatshirt, soft and new in your hands. It hardly smells like him, only the light residual scent from being in his room. “Thank you, sir.” You say, rubbing the fabric against your cheek.

He nods at your old sweatshirt. “This way you can save that one, and start picking this one apart.”

Your face warms at his cheeky comment, your head turning down bashfully. “It means a lot, sir. Really.”

“You'll get better use of it than I did.” He glances at his watch. “I best be getting back to the boys. We'll be back before dinner.”

“Wait-” You get up before he can leave, slowly approaching him with the sweatshirt in hand. Your face is burning as he stares down at you, eyebrows raised in waiting. “Will you...scent it?” You hold the sweatshirt out to him.

He looks surprised for a moment before he takes the fabric, rubbing his face and neck against it. He coats the sweatshirt in his scent, the smell of trees and petrichor filling your nose as you watch him. The back of your neck begins to prickle, the desire to roll in his scent getting stronger.

“Thank you, sir.” You say as he hands the sweatshirt back to you. “I'd...I'd also like to kneel again tonight, if that's alright.”

He smiles softly down at you. “Of course. I'll come and get you when I'm ready.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your head before he takes his leave.

You pull on Price's sweatshirt, burying your nose in his scent for a moment. A smile pulls at your lips as you grab your old sweatshirt, making for your room.

You can't wait for tonight.

NEXT ->

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph

#call of duty #call of duty fic #cod #cod fic #john price x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #a/b/o #alpha beta omega dynamics

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lilaccmilk · 13 days ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/lilaccmilk/764020207307177984/couldnt-stop-looking-at-her-t-t-t-t-face

Okay, but what about when he learns about inducing lactation? If he’s that obsessed with her breasts, she’s bound to start lactating.

a/n: i loved writing this!!! ps. i got this information from the internet, so i apologise for inaccuracies 😭😭

content warning: lactation kink, reader is a female, reader has boobs, nipple stimulation ig?

Galactorrhea is a condition that causes your breasts to leak milk when you aren't pregnant or haven't recently given birth. Excessive breast stimulation among other things may contribute to galactorrhea.

this was written as part 2 to this fic i guess

At first you were hella confused, were you pregnant? But no, lactation doesn’t happen until 16th week of pregnancy. Moreover, he shouldn’t be able to get you pregnant.

Your periods coming the next day proved you wrong. You told your merman boyfriend (who was obsessed with your boobs) to leave your boobs alone for sometime.

5 days had passed by and it got too much. Your doctor told you it would go away on its own.

You called your boyfriend in, telling him about the condition. And oh boy, his eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store.

He was more than happy to help you with it. Your body was so fascinating to him. He started with making sure you’re laid out comfortably on the bed. Slowly kissing up the underside of your boobs. He wanted to take his time to worship your body.

He took your nipple in his mouth, softly sucking on it. One hand of his was palming and groping your other breast, the one his mouth couldn’t pay attention to.

He suckles on your nipple, while you whimper and stroke his hair. You were so wet, you wanted him inside you. The thing about him being a merman was that, he couldn’t exactly get you pregnant, that allowed him to cum inside you as many times as he wanted.

You grind your cunt against his thigh that was between your legs, to get some sort of friction.

He simply pinches your nipple as a warning to stay still. And switches to the other boob.

In conclusion, he spends almost one hour nursing on your boobs, before finally getting around to fuck you.

#monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster smut #monster x human #monster nsft #teratophillia #tw monsterfucking #monster poll #monster x reader #monster bf #monster fluff #monster romance #tw teratophilia #terato #merman x reader #merman x human #merman #lactating kink

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grandisknight · 1 month ago

Text

afternoon treatment | zayne

summary: Zayne follows the "doctor's orders" in order to feel better.

tags: suggestive, established relationship, gn!reader (no specific descriptors), soft zayne, medical kink, 'doctor' kink, kissing, medical procedures (auscultation), medical inaccuracies (in a sense), chest mention, straddling

wc: 2.2k | ao3 | kinktober in deepspace masterlist

a/n: relax time affinity 80 with zayne and that one liner he has. that's it, that's the tweet.

Afternoons at Akso Hospital were always the busiest, from routine check-ups to meetings alike. Staff and accompanying patients hustled through the halls and hushed rooms—there was always something happening, and the cardiac surgery department was no different.

Yet, today seemed to offer Zayne some grace and time to reside in the chilled comforts of his workspace. The morning surgery went well, and his next procedure wouldn’t be for another hour or two.

Therefore, he’s rewarded himself with a simple diagnosis report. The file was lighter in subject, easier to digest in comparison to what was usually on his plate. In his mind, this was a well-fitted solution to kill some time before returning to sterile scrubs and tense operating rooms.

Glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, he looks over their exterior when a soft series of familiar knocks reach his door.

“It’s open,” he calls out, rectangular reflection returning to the onscreen data. Without missing a beat and sparing another glance, he adds on, “Weren’t you supposed to visit a No-Hunt Zone today?”

“Finished my observations earlier than expected,” you chirped, pushing the door to a close and striding towards his busy desk.

Recent reports of Metaflux fluctuations had consumed your bright morning with Herte Knaves running amok. Nothing out of the ordinary from your usual line of work, easily dealt with in a couple of bulleted blows. Their dispersing remains flecked the air in a quiet flurry that reminded you of snowflakes—naturally, your feet led you to the pristine floors of Akso soon thereafter.

Curiously, you sidestep to shadow his focused form, gaze altering between the wall of text and precise clicks of his keys. “Thought you were on break, but it seems like you’re working,” you mumble, in awe of his steady pace. “As always, Dr. Zayne.”

He speaks with an obvious, “Well, I am at work. The call is coming from inside the house.”

“Zayne,” you punctuate. His sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed, and you cross your arms in turn. “You know what I mean.”

A faint chuckle passes under his breath. “You’re accusing me as if I’m in the wrong.”

He was not, actually—far from it. That goes without saying when you were in the middle of his office, imposing during said work time. But you’ve been in his graces for nearly a year now, and know well enough that it was only around this time in the afternoons would he be able to catch a breather.

You shake your head, putting on your best voice before coming to your defense. “No, but the doctor’s orders require you to take a break.”

This catches his attention, fingers slowing their clicks and chair swiveling to face you head on. Slight confusion quirks his brow, mirroring your folded arms in observation. “And pray tell, who would that be? Last time I checked, only one of us is a certified surgeon in this room.”

Your eyes instinctively dart to his stationed badge, credentials on full display against his chest pocket. He had you beat there, at the very least.

“You may hold a degree for medical hearts,” you start, taking a step into the space of his parted knees and tapping your chest.

“But I hold the degree to your heart.” Your finger redirects to the meeting point of his neckline, resting above the aforementioned muscle.

“Is that so?” The corners of his lips lift, amused by your display and newfound authority. “I was unaware of such a professional. Surely, I would’ve remembered seeing someone as dedicated as you during my studies.”

He takes the chance to brush away a strand of hair hugging your cheek, neatly tucking it behind your ear. Gentle appreciation fills his comment of, “Would’ve made them much more enjoyable, too.”

“That’s besides the point.” You wave him off, though it doesn’t fan away the heat blushing your ears, sensing his underlying meaning.

Returning to your self-presumed role, you nod. “As your dedicated and completely legitimate doctor, I believe you’re showing concerning symptoms.”

Zayne hums, withdrawing his hand. “I’m afraid your assessment is lost on me. What exactly are these symptoms?”

“Well, my patient seems to love working overtime. This can cause unnecessary stress to the body and mind, for one.”

You lift one knee to bracket his, the other following in suit—Zayne adapts rather quickly, leaning back to give you space as you carefully straddle his waist. His arms naturally circle around you, hands hovering your tailbone to keep you steady.

Neatly settled on top, you continue with your mild lecture of reported observations. “Even though he should be using the precious time in-between work to give himself a well-deserved break, he does the exact opposite.”

“He is on a break,” Zayne says to his defense. “It’s barely considered heavy work.”

“Doing any kind of work during down-time does not count, mister,” you chide.

You gently tussle his bangs, pushing them to the side and revealing his forehead. Smoothing over the skin above his brow, your eyes searched his expression before noting a shadow of fatigue beneath his lashes. He really was working himself to the bone, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“A dire symptom of a workaholic is when his skin is faring worse than usual,” you exaggerate. “Your eye bags are so prominent they could be checked in at the airport.”

“It’s not that bad,” he murmurs, eyes crinkling at your touch. They flutter to a close when your hand slides to cup his face, thumb brushing the high of his cheekbone in gentle care. “The lighting just makes it seem worse for wear. I’m fine.”

“I beg to differ.” You slowly trail downwards, caressing the side of his neck with a pursed lip.

His pulse point thrummed nicely against your fingers, and a curious press elicited a low sigh from him. Unexpected, though the sound was music to your ears and had butterflies rampant in your stomach. A part of you wanted to hear more of the gravelly timbre that rarely made an appearance—you knew what needed to be done.

Picking up where you left off, more of your self-declared medical ramblings followed. “See here? Another symptom, such a fast pace surely isn’t for the faint of heart. Your apical pulse,” to which your fingertips lightly drag themselves towards, “can’t lie to me.”

Zayne is breathless by the time he formulates a response in sincerity. “How can we go about a treatment plan, then? It seems pretty serious.”

A slowed, purposeful pronunciation follows soon thereafter. “Doc-tor.”

Your heart skipped not one, but two beats—dangerous, surely, but it fell short in the face of Zayne’s steadfast compliance. He peers up at you, factually smitten and framed softly by the office lights blending the contours of his face. You raise your other hand to hold his fine face between them. Admiring, in awe of all that he was.

“There’s only one known treatment option, I’ll have you know.” Unable to hide your smile, you quickly add, “Might require mouth to mouth if things go south.”

Zayne’s pools of hazel flick to your upturned lips, before meeting your mischievous stare with a hint of his own.

“Is this truly scientifically proven, or did you come all this way just to kiss me?”

“Yes,” was all you offered to his question, before placing an airy kiss to his cupid’s bow.

A second found its way to the bridge of his nose, laid over the slight ridge you adore before another rested between his raised brows. His eyes flutter to a close when your lips gently pressed to his temple, stilling at the contact. Slowly, you leave a trail of love across his cheeks, pausing once you meet the corner of his mouth.

Your thumb brushes against his lower lip, smiling at the way he parts them so readily for you. His chin tilts in the direction of your touch, mouthing the chase. A flush of pink sinked into his skin, a perfect peach for you to sink your teeth into.

“Tell me,” you say softly. Your fingers curl underneath his chin, observing the lidded gaze that follows. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

A tender exhale pushes past those very lips. “Right here,” he quietly admits. Closing the distance until you were only a breath away, his eyes focused on the plush of your mouth. “Please, Doctor.”

The union was gentle and warm, a kiss so kind that the same sentiment blossomed in your chest. Traces of a sweetened coffee picked from the hospital’s cafeteria and warm amber from his collar consumed your senses.

Zayne held you closer, chest to his and enveloping in a tender embrace. His hands traced the curve of your back, following your spine to gently cradle your head. Just to keep you this close, he was restless—realizing that he needed this more than he thought. The smile that cracks through another kiss is a testament to it, sealed with a deep breath of contentment.

It was perfect, a moment in time where your thundering heartbeats were equally matched. The world was nothing but a witness to the seconds spent in meaningful lip-locking.

“Mmph,” you groan unceremoniously.

Something firm brushed against your brow, pulling you out of the sweet trance. The culprit looked back at you in its silver rimmed and glass glory, sliding down the bridge of Zayne’s nose.

“Hm?” He leans back, noticing your discomfort. “What’s the matter?”

You contemplate on telling him, partially distracted by the puff of his lower lip. It has a sheen of your affection, and you were sure you looked no different in his eyes.

“Your glasses are falling,” you admit. You reach for the frames, intending on pushing them back to the high of his nose.

Zayne pauses your wrist then, a warm mirth in his gaze. “These are in the way, are they not?” He guides your hand, allowing the glasses to depart from his face and settling it on his desk.

With or without the specs, he truly was handsome—the kind of beauty modeled in Greek busts, from the contours of his cheeks to the sharp angle of his brow bone. You’d have to thank his parents the next time you see them.

He sneaks in a kiss, no longer obscured by the barrier and face perfectly pressed to yours. “My Doctor seems to be distracted,” he comments, taking in your wandering gaze. A cool hand graces the crowd of your head, patting softly. “What are you planning this time?”

His touches brought you out of your daydreaming, and you nod. Hands settling on the curves of his shoulders, you slide them upwards with a murmur of, “I should check your apical pulse again.”

Your eyes wander to the space behind him, a stethoscope only a grab away. With some effort, you spare a hand to reach for it, rising from the chair to a degree.

Zayne noticeably stiffens at his newfound view—your chest in his face wasn’t something on his agenda for today. The breath in his throat hitches, recognizing your fragrance. Comforting and pleasant, a piece of home warmly enhanced by your skin.

By the time you successfully have the medical device in hand, you nearly drop it at the feeling of his nose digging into your chest.

“Zayne? You’re—mmh?!” His hands find their way to your midsection, holding you still as he inhales deeply. You only hear him hum between muffled fabric, and your mind dizzies at the heatwave the mere sound sends to your core.

He pulls back with a soft sigh, the peach of his skin notably deepened to a soft rouge. Zayne guides you back to sit proper in his lap, reaching for the stethoscope in your surprised hand. Carefully, he places the ear tips into place for you and brushes your hair back in the process. Nonchalant, as if he didn’t spend the last waking moments happily buried in your chest.

“If you’re checking my pulse for me, I hope you’ve read the hospital’s code of conduct.” He drops his hands then, patiently awaiting your auscultation. In the reflection of his coy stare, you find that your own blush is faring far, far worse than his.

“Right, right. I did, trust me,” you say in confidence.

You, in fact, did no such thing. But memory of past appointments guides your hand over his heart, chest piece sliding around to count the beats. Not a single count was missed, all perfectly in place and accounted for.

Though, the only thing you could hear was your own heartbeat drumming. It didn’t help that his eyes were entirely focused on you, pointed with affection and observation alike.

“Well?” Zayne hums. “How does it sound?”

“You have a heart, and it’s beating alright.” Your conclusion was far from exemplary, but at least it was the truth.

“That’s a relief,” he laughs quietly. He gently removes the stethoscope, setting it aside. “Realistically, this isn’t how an auscultation works.”

“My methods are just special, that’s all.” You shrug, lightly patting the space that protects the aforementioned organ. “But you seem to be feeling better, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Mhm.” Zayne presses a kiss to your nose, and offers his gratitude. “Thank you, Doctor. I don’t know what I would do without your care.”

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