#trying out some stuff hope it looks decent

[hxrsheykisses]

Hi again Hershey!!! I absolutely LOVED how you wrote my last request abt the hopeless romantic! reader!!! Sorry if this is abrupt, but I wanted to know if you could write about the ETC boys accidentally coming across a love letter addressed to them from the reader?

Like—they would see a letter on the reader’s desk at school, get curious and open it, only to discover that it’s the reader confessing their feelings!!!

It sounded cute in my head ^///^

Anyways!! Take your time writing this and I hope you’re having a good day!!! ^3^

I’m so glad you liked it!! That request was honestly really fun to do and I enjoyed it’ It was honestly so sweet♥️♥️♥️ Rhank you again for requesting!!

It’s been a good couple of weeks after the boys countless attempts at wooing you over and trying to get you to realize what you’re needing is RIGHT here in front of you. But they were losing so much hope because their efforts arent working! It wasn’t you be ungrateful, they know that (hopefully). It’s just that it’s such a shame that you struggle to see it.

One day, at school, the boys always had a routine of walking you to class together. You shared some classes with them and others not so that was the routine. They also waited outside of your class after dismissal.

However, your class was already empty and you weren’t in there—just your stuff at your desk. They were confused as to why you weren’t there anymore since you never leave your class without them. They gave each other some confused looks before making their way to your seat where all of your stuff was laid out. But their eyes caught on a discarded letter and a pencil beside it—which sparked them to be snoopy…

As they took the note from the envelope, they felt their world come to a COMPLETE stop.

BILL’S ROUTE

Bill never felt so high off of cloud 9 before when he snatched the note, reading every word that was neatly written on the piece of paper, his heart skipping with each word.

He would lowkey brag on his friends about it, saying how you are so into him. He claimed proudly that his efforts made through while there’s didn’t. He had finally got you where he wanted you and that’s all that truly matters right now.

He would tease you as well, waving your love letter in the air—saying how he humbly accepts your confession before dragging you away and leaving his friends behind in their sorrows.

JERRY’S ROUTE

Jerry was in utter shock, staring with his jaw dropped as he got finished reading the letter. He ignored his friends groans and complaints as he reread the note over and over and over again. Oh, he just couldn’t believe that you had chosen him.

He would tried to comfort his friends, saying how it wasn’t serious and how it’ll be okay. But they weren’t exactly having it, leaving Jerry feeling a little bit guilty but he still was happy that you had chosen him. Deep down, he believed that his friends wouldn’t treat you like how he would.

Jerry would force his friends to keep the fact that they snooped through your belongings a secret, begging them. He didn’t want you to change your mind about him so he told you the truth on his own terms, he was really anxious about the confession and he apologized. But he’s happy that he won you over!

PETE’s ROUTE

As soon as he saw that the letter was directed towards him, he just went all the way to 100 REAL quick. This boy was literally doing cartwheels around the classroom because he knew that he had won your heart. He is also very braggy to his friends, shoving the middle finger in their face, and other crap. Like he’s so freaking stupid at that moment.

Pete wouldn’t hide the fact that they did in fact were nosy with your items, that wasn’t on his mind when he saw you walking into the classroom. He was just so enthusiastic about being your beloved boyfriend because who wouldn’t? He’ll be a pretty decent boyfriend to you anyway—I mean he proved it to you while he was trying to win you over!

A day never goes by without Pete telling his friends ALLLL about you. He knows that they are pissed and jealous and shit but he doesn’t care. All he knows is that he has fine shyt by his side so nothing else matters💔

JOSH’S ROUTE

Josh shoving EVERYONE out of the way once he saw his name written. He would wave the letter in the air while loudly announcing how his friends are pathetic ass losers who can’t pull any girls and how he basically won the lottery. He’s laughing in their faces while Bill lowkey starts cussing him out (which he pays no mind too)

I swear bro Bill will try to fuck Josh over by loudly shouting at you about how Josh was snooping through your shit to somehow make you reconsider. You don’t. You scolded Josh for a bit, and the others before letting Josh give you a giant bear hug! After, he walked you home—leaving the boys in the dust.

He loves poking a shit ton of fun at Bill because he’s last resort was so desperate that it’s laughable. He made a fool out of himself! This will most likely have Josh kicked out of the club for a day but during that “off” day, he just spent his day with you because who cares about what that dipshit thinks or does?

[jjjackhmmr]

redraw of The Screenshot ever

[tubbytarchia]

Omg drawing requests?? Can I please see your Pearl doing anything I love your Pearl so much the serotonin she gives me. No pressure to draw it tho!

Was I cut by these teeth, or by your barbed wire?

TL: Is this good? Is this satisfactory?? I really struggled with the colors (again) :( also alt under cut

[danwhobrowses]

CR's Godly Option C: Who will go for it?

Spoilers for Campaign 3 Episode 119 below

Okay so there was a development.

After a long and painstaking dance of circling around the Predathos and Gods situation, we have reached the pivotal point. Bells Hells are fighting the God Eater, Imogen is still tethered to it, and the Gods are sending reinforcements to try and seal it again.

Sealing Predathos again is unlikely, since it required the Primordials before, and it'd only be a temporary fix. Most of Bells Hells are advocating for change within the relationship between gods and mortals as the Matron of Ravens had hinted, with all of them (yes, ALL of them, including Ashton and Dorian) wanting to prevent the gods from dying, but they also believe Predathos will get out either way. I think it's implied that defeating Predathos will force it to be suppressed within Imogen, that or it'll just discorporate and another Ruidusborn will become the vessel once it recovers its strength, but since it's intent on consuming divinity and can threaten to overwhelm her again, the third option was presented: to become mortal.

While the Matron explains that if the process is possible they will still regain their memories similar to how the Luxon and the mortality route they took in Downfall work, the gods will also need to be convinced of this outcome between death, departure, or depower. In this post I will discuss the potential of each god's reaction and willingness to enact this option C. I'm also thinking this under the impression that the gods will reincarnate, it wasn't fully clear that's the case but since this is meant to shift the relationship between gods and mortals long term I'd suspect it'd be a cycle.

We'll go alphabetically, also because we all know who begins with A.

Asmodeus, The Az-hole Lord of the Nine Hells Given that the Lying Cheating Whore Bitch that is the Lord of Terror, Lies, and the Hells has a massive shtick up his butt about mortals being lower than him, becoming mortal permanently is like a worst case scenario for Azzy M. He will be the hardest to convince, especially since as Lord of Lies he will have obscenely high charisma to resist potential persuasion rolls. The only opening is to appeal to his insecurities about his family, the deep but warped longing to be with them again, but even that is a paper thin line not even Braius can easily stay on the right side without the risk of a ripped-off face and a shattered spine. If he is convinced, however, there has to be the expectation that a betrayal or loophole is inbound.

Avandra, The Changebringer The Goddess of Change is someone you'd expect to welcome the very nature of her domain. Had FCG survived perhaps she would've been more present or be in the position the Matron is in right now for the story, since in hindsight she is similarly suited to be the vehicle of this path. Also a Goddess of Adventure, she might even be enticed with the idea of getting to partake in her own journeys, so a low amount of convincing is likely to be needed for this one, the Hells may spend more time chatting to check in on FCG with her instead.

Bahamut, The Platinum Dragon We don't get much info on the Platinum Dragon in the campaigns despite its looming presence and adjacency to the parties, its influence is central to Vassalheim, the religious capital of Tal'dorei, which has a big hand in a lot of Exandrian Politics. Given its strong sense of justice and protecting the weak, I think the Platinum Dragon would need some convincing that this is the right call - which can be difficult given the prospect of chaos that'd unfold from it - but would bend to its logic if the majority were in support, the Lawbearer and Knowing Mentor may be linchpins to encouraging them since they all have the air of sharing the same sense of pragmatism.

Bane, The Strife Emperor War and Conquest are Bane's bread and butter, and while peace can be established in the aftermath it is sadly in mortals' nature to fight and take from one another through violent means, bread and butter (metaphorically, but imagine if it were literally for a moment). For that reason I think Bane would be fine with mortality - war could perhaps be more fun if there's jeopardy involved and death this way is just a respawn. They may put on a front to be against it because it's for reasons of peace, but Bane would rather live to fight another day than never fight again.

Corellon, The Arch Heart The Arch Heart is a curious one. They wanted to leave, they told Bells Hells as much in the feywild, but the Matron is convinced that the Arch Heart simply wants change and would be open to mortality. Due to them having the chance to present their case for departure, I think the Arch Heart would take probably a medium level of convincing. As SILAHA they enjoyed the indulgences and hedonism of mortality and can do so again, but may feel a little slighted by Bells Hells not following through with their plan - they are a vain god after all. Overall I think they too would bow to the majority if it came to it, since their plan involved all of their siblings running with them.

Erathis, The Lawbearer There is a downside for the Lawbearer and Wildmother with mortality. As lovers, sacrificing their divinity will mean life apart from one another for long periods at a time, and by the time their memories are restored it can open up a massive can of worms if they found love with others as mortals. The Lawbearer would be one who'd acknowledge the logic, but resist the offer from an emotional standpoint - perhaps preferring to run or to die in each other's arms than to be apart. It'd take convincing the Wildmother to convince them, so it'd be a tall order for Bells Hells to achieve, but it can be done given how she bends more to logic - seeing as she's the one who proposed the idea of the Divine Gate.

Grummsh, The Ruiner Grummsh is a brute, a lover of blood and slaughter. As a result, the Ruiner will probably need as much convincing as Bane does; adverse to the logic of peace but secretly salivating the idea of future conflicts and being hands-on with it in a continual reincarnation cycle. Some convincing required to bypass the facade of hesitation, but not a lot.

Ioun, The Knowing Mentor Ioun has spent centuries collecting information and knowledge, in turn being a deity of prophecy and teaching, she may have already seen this coming. However, she hates secrets and reverse-engineering the forbidden knowledge that is the Ritual of Seeding may make her hesitant of the path. Some convincing is required, but The Knowing Mentor is a fair and logical god, and in logic she can be persuaded and understand that this is among the better solutions to the problem at hand. The Hells may also entice her with the hands-on approach of learning new things, possibly citing Dunamancy - through Ashton and their head maybe - since the gods treat it as foreign and alien.

Kord, The Stormlord The Stormlord is renowned for being badass and stoic, which unfortunately makes him hard to read in this situation. Unlike Bane and Grummsh, Kord doesn't lust after war and battle but prepares for it nonetheless. It may be hard to convince him though, because they could see the option as abandoning the fight - going against their tenets of strength and bravery in battle - but his awareness of Imogen can come into play in her influencing him, and if Bane and Grummsh's excitement can't be hidden it can be used as incentive to keep their warmongering at bay. He can be swayed, but not easily - it cannot be framed as giving up.

Lolth, The Spider Queen Lolth has a disdain for mortals on a similar maybe-slightly-lesser level to Asmodeus, she's possessive and proud of her power, and mortality would mean that she would have to confront the many enemies she has made - such as the Kryn - without the comfort of being out of their reach. She's also petty, and feuds with the Arch Heart and Stormlord can make it harder to convince her if they're already convinced - and vice versa. The Spider Queen strikes as someone who will agree to something so long as she benefits, curiosity can only go so far after all, she may even ask for some grovelling or a tribute/offering as a sweetener. It will be difficult, but the Opal incident is indicative that she fears Predathos, Bells Hells would need to infer that it's the most profitable option to her but also make sure it's not framed as her conceding to their request or being threatened.

Melora, The Wildmother As with the Lawbearer, the Wildmother will struggle to be convinced not because of the logic but because of the heart. Being separated from her lover is a big sacrifice she will very likely show her teeth to avoid, but in exchange she will get to return to her beloved domain properly once more. This may make the Wildmother easier to convince, or it could be harder given how she has trouble letting go of things - since she protested the idea of the Divine Gate in Downfall's epilogue, and the only thing stopping her from being a Betrayer was a reluctance to leave Exandria. It will probably fall to Orym, who has had experience being apart from people they love, to turn the scales and convince her, which will domino into convincing the Lawbearer too.

Moradin, The All-Hammer Not much is known about the All-Hammer, which is a shame since the past campaigns have had such inventive and artistic characters. That being said, I don't think the All-Hammer will need much convincing. Some convincing may be warranted since they are a God of Family and Legacy too, so they'd want to ensure that the rest of the gods are in agreement, but the All-Hammer admires creativity, ingenuity, and craft; and that is something Chetney has the edge to appeal them towards. A chance to see what more mortals can create, to unlearn and relearn various artforms for lifetimes, Chetney's own pursuit of legacy makes him the perfect one to relate to the All-Hammer, and thus there is limited convincing needed.

Pelor, The Dawnfather There have been two sides to the Dawnfather when in conflict in Campaign 3; on one side you have Ayden, the sunshine multiclassing do-gooder who clings to hope and humanity, on the other you have the Dawnfather that sent an angel to suppress Hearthdell and threatened to withhold power from Deanna for questioning him. Like the Stormlord, the Dawnfather could protest or take offence to the idea of becoming mortal permanently, as he could also see it as abandoning their sworn and solemn duties. Asmodeus and The Arch Heart paint him as chief among the 'but mah children' gods in their internal debate to stay or flee, which can be used in convincing him. But he is prideful, and stubborn, and wrathful, meaning it will require a lot of tact and careful wording to achieve, possibly moreso than it would the Stormlord.

The Raven Queen, Matron of Death As the one mulling over the method of enacting the plan, the Matron is a definitive yes who won't need convincing, she's already been convinced. Mortality is not new to her, and she has no disdain for it.

Sarenrae, The Everlight Aside from the All-Hammer and Changebringer, I think the Everlight is perhaps the one Bells Hells won't need to convince at all. The events of Downfall showed that she loves mortals, and loved mortality; the chance to live and love, to raise children, she loved it all and the moment she parted from it she missed it dearly. She might have a bit of guilt about leaving her followers like Pike, but she might also relish the idea of getting to know them on a more personal and mortal level too.

Sehanine, The Moonweaver The Moonweaver's tenets include to live untethered and free and to seize one's own destiny, which could act as a pro or con to encouraging the idea of becoming mortal. It leans more towards the pro side, since lifetimes of experiences can entice her against running away forever - and Fearne is the likely candidate to frame it that way if she is in need of convincing - but it falls to whether she has already made up her mind about which path she wants to take. If she's already chosen another option, it may be difficult to change her mind because it'll be something she doesn't want to do. If she's open to the idea there's little convincing, if not then it requires Bell's Hells to sell the idea.

Tharizdun, The Chained Oblivion Tharizdun is a strange case. The ancient primordial evil trapped in the Abyss - a visual representation of 'too much chaos' - that creates demons and aberrations with its mind to sic on Exandria isn't exactly one who was sent through the Divine Gate willingly. Mortality and reincarnation is likely something it'd leap at, freedom and the floor to corrupt and influence more directly, but also something the other gods would be greatly against them having given their efforts to seal it near the end of the Calamity. Because of this, the convincing would be for all the other gods - mainly the primes - rather than the entity itself, and thus it can be a deal breaker. As a non-Tengar god however it may be 'off the menu', and thus a compromise to keep it trapped may be achieved - it's actually a little unclear if Matt includes them and another non-Tengar god when discussing 'the gods' in this context, since they are included in the pantheon but not exactly a 'god'.

Tiamat, The Scaled Tyrant Another god eager to get out is Tiamat, Arkhan stole the Hand of Vecna for this sole purpose after all. 'Let no affront go unpunished' is a tenet that'd mean Tiamat would take little convincing to return to the Material Plane. In contrast to Lolth, paying back her grudges would be high on her agenda, as well as amassing wealth and her kin, it'd be more of a challenge to convince the Platinum Dragon of her release given how destructive chromatic dragons can be and have been in the past. So not much convincing on her side really, just opposition from opponents.

Torog, The Crawling King Torog's time as Zaharzht in Downfall was intriguing. Without it the jealous god of torture, jailers, and slavers would ironically be someone you'd expect to desire freedom from imprisonment, but Zaharzht hated being mortal and constantly harmed themselves throughout Downfall. Their monologue about peace implied that Torog may be the only god to welcome Predathos' consumption of them, which makes it difficult to say how much convincing they'd need and if they'd even acknowledge Bells Hells' offer in the first place. There's a chance they may bend to family majority, since Zaharzht had a soft - albeit warped and abusive - spot for Asha, but it's probably not something they'd like to agree to out of the three options.

Vecna, The Whispered One Centuries as a Lich leads to only 3ish decades of godhood, damn does it suck to be Vecna. The Whispered One is a god who would definitely reject the idea of returning to mortality, and someone who would probably rather take their chances and run. Much like the Chained Oblivion, being a mortal would probably be very bad for Exandria anyway, since he knows how to Lich himself and knows the Ritual of Seeding to undo the process anyway - Vassalheim has not quickly forgotten his attempt to raze them. He doesn't want mortality and the mortals won't want him, and without the sense of family that Asmodeus may have for the other gods he might be the joint-highest lost cause among the gods. However, the lack of familial ties and potentially also being off-menu might mean the gods are less enthusiastic about staying as a set with him in it, and would be willing to accept mortality without him. As a result, very difficult to convince, not a positive to do so, but there may be a willingness from other gods to just let him run.

Zehir, The Cloaked Serpent Our final god is a mystery, as obscurity is among his domain. We know more of Zehir's treacherous servant Uk'otoa (uk'otoaaaa) than we do of the god himself, but from what we do know is that they are unique in having the most enemies even among their fellow Betrayer Gods, Torog and Lolth. Their small amount of worshippers, mainly Yuan-ti and other snakefolk, are often described as ones looking to be equal to them, which may make it a tall order to convince Zehir to give their followers and enemies a better shot at killing them. There is perhaps the opening of playing to his pride, an assassin would be proud of their ability to kill, and fluffing his ego in order to 'prove' his skill among these bloodthirsty followers and enemies is a route that can be used with solid enough deception. Niche degree of convincing due to poor knowledge of him, but still possible.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent-ish things ~

[arolesbianism]

I wanna take a crack at making some fake screenshot graphics for my Sif Odile duo loopers au but I do not feel confident enough in my ability to mimic isat's art style and I also have a crippling fear of drawing backgrounds

[dandyshucks]

seeing that they announced an official plush today, just as i rly started getting going on making my own by hand ... i do not see it ... i am looking away .... this shall not deter me from my goal nor will it take the wind out of my sails.....

[sleepinglionhearts]

Man, just saw a post about it, but renewed my frustration over work nonsense yesterday

Being like, oh, cool! It's disability pride month! We get to switch the displays in the store! I wanna make a really cool display right up front!!

Getting a cart to go start selecting books from our wide array of children's books, picture books, YA novels, adult fiction, nonfiction, etc that I know feature disabled characters and people and that I've seen sitting on the shelves for a while, our previous book buyer was always suuuuuper vocal about finding books w disabled characters, after all, representation just MATTERED SO MUCH to her,

And then being absolutely dumbfounded when we BARELY HAVE ANYTHING outside of characters w ADHD/Autism. MAYBE anxiety. PERHAPS a character has cancer. THE FAINTEST SUGGESTION of a wheelchair in one book. Huntington's? Question mark? In another? Conditions resulting in disfigurement/amputation? The concept could possibly exist in this book, uhh.. maybe...... anything else? Ha! Not on these shelves I fucking guess?!

Like.... we have a ton of books w queer rep! Different body types! Different skin tones! Teach your toddler about social justice! Transgender characters! Nonbinary characters! The alphabet but we're making it gay! At least one book, I think, with asexual characters! But no, we don't have our self-empowerment books anymore or the little guide to sexuality and disability, we have Buddhist monk advice for anxious people, but nooooo we DON'T have that cool book that talked about disability activism anymore, and definitely not in time for July!

I know she and I were at odds before she left, and I know my specifically putting "National month of..." prompts up on my desk calendar after she expressed it was "so difficult to find out what each month is the month of!" probably really irritated her, but I'm like. Appalled that she hadn't been ordering to restock for disability pride month since she always made such a big deal about having books like that in the store.

[afishylife]

thinkin about ocs (OIFIL) and ruining my own life with it u_u

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 5: What I Want

Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown

A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

(Gif pulled from google)

You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs. 

You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up. 

Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble. 

“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”

You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think. 

“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.” 

“Good.” 

You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?” 

“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.” 

You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them. 

“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand. 

“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.” 

“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.” 

“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it. 

“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles. 

“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake. 

“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.” 

“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door. 

Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts. 

“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up. 

“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone. 

“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.” 

“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?” 

“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.” 

“Oh? How so?” 

“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins. 

Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.” 

“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.” 

“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.” 

“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.” 

“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.” 

“We’re doing our best.” 

“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.” 

“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.” 

“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.” 

Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.” 

You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too. 

You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost. 

“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway. 

You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough. 

He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through. 

Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt. 

You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them. 

Tattoos. 

He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings. 

You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him. 

“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand. 

You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles. 

“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.” 

You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you. 

“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you. 

You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit. 

“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...” 

“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him. 

You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run. 

You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.” 

“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks. 

He has a point. 

“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.” 

You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit. 

“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.” 

You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well. 

Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes. 

“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice. 

A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit. 

“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you. 

“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.” 

“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone. 

He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in. 

Don’t back down. 

Don’t back down. 

You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega. 

“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.” 

His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength. 

“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance. 

“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless. 

“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice. 

He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit. 

The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face. 

“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.” 

You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back. 

He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.

“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?” 

“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room. 

“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.” 

Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight. 

“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead. 

“It’s his fault.” You murmur. 

“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows. 

Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.

It’s not yours. 

“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position. 

Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.” 

Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode. 

“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.” 

“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office. 

“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince. 

Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.” 

“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly. 

“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.” 

“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.” 

“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?” 

Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust. 

“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.” 

You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.” 

“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.” 

You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering. 

“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?” 

You nod. “Ozone.” 

She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.” 

Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess? 

You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack. 

“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?” 

“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”

“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks. 

“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.” 

“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look. 

You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.” 

“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down. 

You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.” 

“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks. 

You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.” 

“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?” 

You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud. 

“Why not?” She asks. 

“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur. 

“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks. 

You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.” 

Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse. 

“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you. 

That word again. 

You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week. 

You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply. 

“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you. 

“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.” 

“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?” 

“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.” 

“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.” 

Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain. 

“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?” 

“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.” 

Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.” 

She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin. 

“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide. 

“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.” 

“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...” 

Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”  

The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain. 

“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?” 

You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.” 

She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this. 

That’s not a conversation you want to have right now. 

You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her. 

It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to. 

You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in. 

“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly. 

“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys. 

She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms. 

Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?” 

You nod. “Thank you.” 

She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.” 

You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet. 

You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any. 

Ask for one thing that you want. 

It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to. 

You could ask for something that’s not material. 

Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today. 

You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed. 

You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants. 

You can want this. 

You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this. 

You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling. 

You want this. 

“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-” 

His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed. 

“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-” 

Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip. 

“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.” 

“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-” 

Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours. 

His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist. 

“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.” 

Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.” 

You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything. 

This isn’t a want. 

You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow. 

“Come in.” 

Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there? 

“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen. 

You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.” 

You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air. 

“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough. 

You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.” 

“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.” 

You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap. 

Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him. 

“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him. 

“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand. 

His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders. 

All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you. 

You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe. 

You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest. 

“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck. 

You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent. 

“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body. 

You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it. 

“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly. 

His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before. 

You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again. 

The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south. 

He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him. 

He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall. 

Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days. 

“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?” 

He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest. 

“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.” 

Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked. 

Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed. 

His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock. 

Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you. 

He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips. 

He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days. 

“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing. 

“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall. 

Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him. 

You’re going to be the death of him. 

NEXT ->

Taglist, part 1:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006

[oddinary4bts]

To Give a Helping Hand | ch 3 (jjk)

☆summary: when you finally come over to his place, Jungkook realizes he'll need more of you.

☆pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: smut, idol!au

☆warnings: unedited, curses, alcohol, an NDA (brief mention), explicit content: grinding, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), edging, begging/praise kink, spitting, jerking off, unprotected sex (don't be stupid), creampie

☆word count: 3.7k

☆a/n: i was horny i guess lmao hope you enjoy! this is unedited so beware for typos and stuff that doesn't make sense haha love y'all <3

☆☆☆☆☆

There’s something about you that Jungkook can’t quite figure out.

Maybe it’s the way you signed the NDA when you got to his place, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with playfulness. Maybe it’s the way you teased him, threatening to spill his secrets with a wink that went straight to his dick. Or maybe it’s the way you told him he can’t tell anyone about you either.

It can be our secret, mmh?

Your words have been resonating through him since he made you dinner And he only did so because he wants to spend some time with you, to get to know a little before he actually fucks you, and all that shit. He’s just trying to be decent. But ever since you walked into his apartment with that skirt of yours - showing your indecent, strong legs, and thighs he wants to be crushed by - Jungkook has known he’ll get his dick wet tonight.

Hell, he knew it even before that, but the sight of you has been making him feel feral. It’s nothing new - he’s been feral for you ever since the first time he saw you at the gym, with that stupid Cooky keychain he hated then.

He doesn’t hate it anymore. In truth, he doesn’t even give a shit anymore. Maybe it’s because you have him wrapped around a finger, and he’s ready to make you see stars.

“Thank you for the food,” you say as you sit back in your chair, toying with the glass of the wine you brought. 

He tilts his head to the side, offers a small smirk and says, “Anytime.”

Your eyes glint. They glint like jewels in the sun, and it strikes him deep. “Does that mean it’s time for me to repay you?”

Fuck. His blood shoots down to his dick, and Jungkook stirs in his chair.

“I think we’re on uneven grounds, mmh?” he lets out.

You cock an eyebrow. “How so?”

“I haven’t seen you come yet.”

You smile a small, secretive smile, looking at your wine. “Does that bother you?”

“It does.” He shifts in his chair, leaning closer to you. He suddenly hates that you’re sitting on the other side of the table, but he’ll be patient tonight.

He wants to savour you until the sun comes up.

“So tonight is all about me?” you tease.

He can’t help the small laugh he lets out. “Oh, I think we’ll both find our pleasure.”

It doesn’t take you long after that to get up, walking around the table. Jungkook pushes his chair away from the table, and you straddle his lap with the quiet confidence he likes about you, lowering yourself on him until he’s sure you can feel his dick on you.

And he feels you, feels the warmth radiating off of you, and he already knows his climax will hit harder than it ever has.

“So,” you purr, circling your hips. “What do you want to start with?”

His hands find your waist, and he gently rubs you with his thumbs. “Why don’t you take your shirt off?”

You’re a brat. You’re a fucking brat, because you pout, saying, “Can’t do it for me?”

He’ll go insane tonight. Thoroughly, completely insane.

What will be left of him in the morning?

“You want to play this game?” he says, voice low.

You blink innocently. “What game?”

Jungkook gets up, carrying you with him. Your eyes widen in surprise, but you recover quickly, wrapping your legs around him. And he meant to carry you to his room, but your lips find the side of his neck, and you suck hard.

“Fuck,” he hisses, and he immediately directs himself towards the wall, pinning you against it. “You’re impatient.”

You lean your head back against the wall, looking at him through your lashes. “Maybe a little.”

It spurs him into action - Jungkook captures your mouth in a languid kiss, parting your lips with his tongue to taste you. He can taste the food and the wine on you, but also a taste that is so distinctly you that he sighs in relief.

He’s a man starved when it comes to you, and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

Jungkook grinds his hips, rubbing his length on you. You whimper in his mouth, your hands pulling on handfuls of his hair, and he hisses in pain, though it only turns him on more. Still, he kisses you, sucking on your lower lip and teasing it with his teeth. He doesn’t bite down too hard, doesn’t want to hurt you, but when your tongue toys with his piercings, he knows he needs to have you now. So he makes sure he’s holding you up with one hand, and then slides the other one between your bodies. 

He makes quick work of pulling your skirt up, and then his fingers deftly push your underwear aside. One digit parts your folds, tests your wetness, and his dick twitches in his pants at just how slick you already are.

“Who’s impatient now?” you purr.

He feels an inherent need to shut you up, and so he dips his finger inside of you up to the first knuckle, swallowing the needy moan you let out. And then he’s pulling his hand away, bringing it up to your face, and he pulls away from the kiss to push his finger in your mouth.

Your lips wrap around the digit, your eyes blazing bright, and you suck on it, your tongue teasing the pad. It reminds him of how your mouth felt on his dick the last time he saw you, and he grinds into you again, loving the way your eyebrows bunch together with pleasure.

He can’t wait to hear you moan his name. That, more than anything, pushes him to pull his finger out of your mouth, and to then carry you to his room. You busy yourself on the skin of his neck as he does so, and he grunts when your tongue teases the earring he’s wearing.

“No hickey,” he reminds you when you go back to sucking on his neck.

You stop, pulling away just enough to meet his gaze. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice.”

He’s reached the bedroom by then, and Jungkook puts you down on his bed. He takes his shirt off while you make yourself comfortable on the bed, and he throws the piece of clothing on the floor before climbing on the mattress. You immediately spread your legs for him, and he pushes your skirt up to reveal the black lacy thong you’re wearing.

It barely even hides anything, and he can already tell that you’re slowly soaking the fabric.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way you’re eyeing his chest, lust and desire swirling in the depths of your gaze. Your eyes, glistening earlier, have turned darker, and he can’t help but admire you for it.

You’re beautiful. Beautiful in a savage, strong way that he can’t even describe. Maybe it’s your muscles, or that quiet confidence you carry yourself around with. Or maybe it’s just the way his body reacts to you - his lust for you is wild, feral, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jungkook bends down to kiss you, hand sliding to your wrist when you run your hand through his hair. He pulls your hand over your head, pressing it into the mattress right as you wrap your legs around his waist again. 

“Be nice and don’t touch me, mmh?” he tells you.

He doesn’t wait for your answer. He’s already sliding down between your legs, readying himself to finally get the taste of you that he’s been craving. And there’s something sinful about your skirt, about your black lacy thong, so he decides to keep your clothes on, hooking one finger in your thong to pull it aside.

You’re gleaming with your slick juices, your pussy flushed red with arousal. Jungkook just knows you’ll feel divine on his dick, but first he wants to lap you up.

And so he does, leaning forward to push his tongue between your folds. Your taste is heady, inebriating, and he grunts as one of your hands shoots to his head as if you’re trying to push him closer.

“Nu-uh,” he tuts, kneeling between your legs. He grabs your hands, puts them over your head, and then says, “Don’t move.”

He doesn’t break eye contact as he slowly unbuckles his belt, and then takes it off. Doesn’t break eye contact as he ties you up with it, making sure to not make it tight enough to hurt, but still tight enough to restrain your motions. 

Your breath is ragged when he sits back on his heels, tilting his head to the side as he smirks. “Now, if you move again, I’ll tie you up to the bed too, m’kay?”

You flash a lustful smile. “Maybe I’d like that.”

It turns him on far too much, his dick rock hard in his pants. He rubs himself, watches with manly contentment as you look down at him and bite at your bottom lip.

“Careful, baby,” he says. “If you’re too much of a brat, you’re not getting anything tonight.”

“As if you can resist me.”

He can’t. He knows he can’t, so he abstains from replying, instead choosing to make you regret your words. Indeed, he goes back to your pussy, pushing your underwear aside once more to blow a breath on your clit that makes you squirm slightly. He loves it, loves everything about how your body responds to his. Even more so as he dives in, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking on it lightly. You moan, somehow shy, and he looks up at you to see your jaw as your head is thrown back.

But you’re obeying, hands gripping at the pillow over your head, and Jungkook knows he’s got you right where he wants you to be. So he unleashes himself, feasts on you until your moans grow louder, his name intertwined with your pleasure. His dick hurts in his pants from lack of stimulation, and he starts palming himself as he eats you out, as your juices cover his chin.

Circles after circles around your clit lead to it growing sensitive, flushed with so much arousal he knows you’re teetering close to your orgasm. But he won’t give in yet, won’t let you come even though he thinks the sight will entrance him, will make him worship you like a goddess.

So instead, Jungkook pulls away, blowing another breath on your clit as you whine.

“Fuck, why’d you stop?” you complain.

He smirks, waiting for you to look down at him. 

“You think I’m just going to let you come like this?”

You clench your jaw, chest going up and down rapidly as if you’ve just sprinted down the street. “You’re a little shit, aren’t you?”

He bends down, bites at your clit lightly yet it makes you cry out in pleasure, and your hands shoot to his head. 

“What did I say about touching me?” he warns.

“Jungkook…”

“Hands up, baby,” he tells you, kneeling between your legs. “I think we have to tie you to the bed.”

You obey, yet Jungkook resists from restraining your movements further. Hell, he might want to edge you, but he also wants you to be a brat, to tell him how much you want it.

So he kisses you wild instead, lets you taste yourself on his lips as his hand lets go of your wrists where he’s pinned them over your head again. He trails his way down your side, lifting your shirt so that he can graze the skin of your stomach lightly, and you let out a breathy sound that he thinks might have been his name.

“What?” he asks.

“Touch me,” you say, eyes fluttering open to meet his. 

Your gaze is sex-crazed, a clear indication that he indeed denied you an orgasm, and Jungkook sits back on his heels. 

“Where?”

��Are you always like this?” you ask.

He nods. “Only with pretty girls like you.”

He doesn’t think you like the mention of other girls - he’s been with plenty of them, but evidently that’s not something you’d want to hear. So he decides to stop teasing, to finally let you ride the wave of your climax.

If only so that you stop looking disappointed. And so Jungkook brings his hand between your thighs, collecting your juices on two fingers before slipping them inside of you. 

You’re tight. Or maybe your walls just fight against him for a moment, relaxing the second he starts rubbing on your velvety spot. Your hips raise from the bed, your back arching as you moan loudly.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you cry out.

“Feels good?”

“Yes.” You wet your lips, gaze meeting his. “Eat me out at the same time?”

He tilts his head to the side, the predator and you its prey. “Why should I?”

“I’ll suck your dick after.”

His dick twitches in his pants at your crude words, but Jungkook ignores it. “What makes you think I want that?”

“The fact that -” Your words are interrupted by a loud moan, your walls momentarily clenching around his fingers as he pushes them in and out of you quickly, his thumb rubbing on your clit. “That you came down my throat last time.”

He bends down to whisper against your lips. “Open your mouth, baby.”

You look like you want to fight him, but he knows you’re nearing your high. Indeed, your gaze has lost its focus, your cheeks are flushed red, and your breathing is ragged, so much so that he wonders if he should give you a break before fucking you.

When your lips part, Jungkook doesn’t hesitate before he spits in your mouth. You moan in answer, your walls fluttering on his digits.

“Fuck,” you curse. “I’m so close.”

He knows it. He knows it, because you’re growing impossibly tighter, and your eyes are screwed shut now, your eyebrows almost touching. So he gives in to your earlier desire, going back between your legs to wrap his lips around your clit.

He only has to suck on it once, teasing it with his tongue, for you to crash into your high, and you moan as you come, your walls pulsing on his fingers. You taste divine, like the ambrosia of the gods, and Jungkook laps you up, guides you through your orgasm. And it lasts a while, wave after wave after wave crashing into you until your thighs are shaking, instinctively closing around his head.

Only then does Jungkook pull away, looking down at your ruined panties as he slips his fingers out of you.

“Holy shit,” you let out, and the breathy laugh that follows makes Jungkook pause, eyes widening as he looks at you.

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Fuck. Yeah. That was…”

He toys on his piercing, everything in him waiting for the praise. But it doesn’t come, and his dick hurts in his pants, and all he wants is to bury himself deep in your hot wetness. So he moves away enough to remove his pants, and then he fists his cock, stroking himself as he waits for you to look at him. When you do so, he slowly takes off your underwear, never breaking eye contact, before kneeling between your legs again. 

“You think you can take me now?” he asks.

You look down at him, and your hands reach for him. As much as he wants you to touch him, he thinks he’s already close - if you were to suck him or jerk him off right now, he reckons he might come on the spot. So, once again, Jungkook pushes your hands over your head, but this time, he holds them in place before gently nudging your clit with the tip of his cock.

“Can you?” he asks.

“Can I?”

You sound confused, which he assumes might be because you’re fucked out from coming hard. So he kisses you once, pushing his tongue in your mouth lightly before he pulls away.

“Can I fuck you?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you purr, and he loves that the brat is back.

Even more so as he rubs his dick between your folds, collecting your juices.

“You’re dripping wet, baby,” he says. “You always get this wet?”

You meet his gaze, biting at your lower lip. “What if I do?”

He starts pushing in, and you surprisingly hold onto the defiance, your smirk never fading. His, on the other hand, melts as he feels you for the first time, and you’re even better than anything he could have imagined.

“Then,” he lets out, pushing in inch by inch. He pulls back out for a second, and then pushes in again. “I better fuck you good until all you want is my dick, mmh?”

“Please.”

It’s the begging. It unravels the last of his restraint, and Jungkook pushes all the way in, grunting as he hits your cervix. He pulls out slightly as he surveys your features, aware that he might have hurt you, but you don’t look like you care.

No, your hips lift from the bed, trying to meet his, and so he starts pushing in and out, slowly at first if only to make sure you’re adjusted to his size. And when you moan his name for what might be the hundredth time but feels like the first, Jungkook increases his pace, increases the strength of his thrust until his headboard is banging into the wall.

He takes you in, takes the sight of you as you mewl from your pleasure, your walls sucking him in so good he thinks he sees stars. You’re heaven personified, his own nirvana, at least for the time that he’s fucking you.

Everything else fades away - his life, his fame, the NDA you signed that’s still on the counter. All there is is you and him, and the way that your bodies move like one. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way while having sex. Hell, he reckons twenty years from now, he’ll still be thinking about this moment while he’s fisting his cock.

But for now, Jungkook tries to focus on the present. Tries to focus on the way you respond to his every motion, your walls clenching around him. His balls grow tight, a knot forming in his lower back as he tries not to come. It’s hard, but he manages to refrain from coming by slowing down, establishing a deeper rhythm that makes your eyes flutter open.

“I really want to touch you a bit,” you whisper.

It’s not said out of lust. There’s something else in your eyes, and Jungkook wonders if you feel like he does.

If you, too, will be thinking back on this moment twenty years down the line.

“Let me…” he trails off as he stops moving, and then he unties your wrists. 

Your arms immediately wrap around him, holding him close, and Jungkook likes it. Likes the way you lightly trace his back with your nails, and he winces as you slightly dig into his shoulders as he starts fucking you again.

“No marks,” he reminds you.

You whine, yet it morphs into a moan as he starts pounding into you again. His balls are tight, heavy, and he knows he’ll have to let himself go soon, yet he wants the moment to last just a little longer. Maybe that’s why he pulls out, flipping you on your belly. Why he takes a moment to massage your ass cheeks as you glance at him over your shoulder. Your hair is a mess, but it’s beautiful, in such a simple, feminine way that it stabs Jungkook in the chest.

Or that might be the way you’re looking at him - it’s hard to tell, and Jungkook decides to chase the vulnerability away by pushing inside of you, up until he feels your ass against him. And then he’s fucking you again, relentlessly, sweat dripping from his forehead. It falls on you, but you don’t look like you mind, and though it’s burning his eyes, he doesn’t care either.

All he cares about is the way is dick grows infinitely hard, and soon his motions grow sloppy. He focuses for a time, tries to hold it in, but then you say, “You’re so good, Jungkook”, and the praise sends him over the edge.

Jungkook slams all the way in, holding your waist tightly, and he comes deep inside of you, painting your insides white as your pussy clenches around him. He sees stars - galaxies and nebulas - and his body folds on itself until he’s got his forehead pressed to the side of your face. He thinks he might have moaned your name, moaned a silent prayer to your beauty, and the orgasm washes through him, erasing everything until he’s just a blank canvas.

It takes a long time for him to come down from his high. For his breathing to return to normal, for his blood to stop singing the song of you. Meanwhile, you’re just breathing in sync with him, your hand on his cheek - when did it get there? - as your thumb strokes idle lines on the side of his face. It’s intimate, and oh too vulnerable considering that you’re a fan, so Jungkook straightens, finally pulling out.

He watches his cum dripping out of you, the sight nearly enough to make him go feral again, but he takes a deep breath, reminding himself that, as much as he wants you, you’re still just a fan.

He’s never going to date you, is he?

But he can’t deny the attraction, or the way your body answers to his perfectly. So when you get ready to leave, later, Jungkook pulls you into a short embrace, kissing you slow as your hands rest flat on his chest. And then he pulls away so that he can meet your gaze as you look up at him.

His heart feels warm - he thinks his whole chest might slowly be catching fire. So, even though you’re just a fan, even though you probably shouldn’t, he whispers, “Can I see you again next week?”

Prev

☆☆☆☆☆

hope you guys enjoyed this... horny chapter haha jungkook finally got what he wanted with her... but he already wants more hehe let me know what you think of this chapter!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

Taglist:

@pamzn | @chimchimmarie | @llallaaa | @backseatana | @xmspurple7x

@jadestonedaeho7

[mihii-i]

Toots ik you got a whole lot of requests but hear me out 🧏🏻‍♀️

Jealous Arlecchino oneshot with smut or suggestive ending🧎🏻‍♀️

Like her and her hot af wife (reader) going on a lil mission in a different nation and have to continuously speak with a woman who the Fatui has connections with to help them

And reader and said woman are getting along TOO good and while reader is thinking this is some cute girls-bonding-time the woman is literally drooling over her and trying to keep her away from Arlecchino

Arlecchino notices ofc 🤗

The rest is up to you, but please no degradation or like “you were enjoying her attention” type thing in the smut/suggestive part <3

vexations.

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

CW: nsfw, female reader, afab reader, jealousy, fatui member reader (rank not specified), weird lady get tf away, uh moew, the sigma inside me is yearning for deck, lowkey the no degration part gave me an idea, strap on use, praise, small bit of marking, not proofread.

A/N: GIRL OMG lowkey I love that you kinda said no degradation or the attention relishing thing bc honestly I don’t like that kinda stuff either as u can see from like a lot of my work I avoid humiliation and stuffs I like fluffy sex SO YOURE SO REAL FOR THAT BC IT KINDA FEELS WEIRD YK anyway hope u like this yayayay 🕯️

“Arle hurry up! The negotiator won’t wait forever.”

A soft nudge brushed along the blade of your shoulder as you tilted your head over, noticing your wife leaning at your side upon catching up from behind you. Arlecchino breathed out a quiet hum in response, the crisp winds of the howling sky assaulting your skin in a cold fury. Usually, the weather in Fontaine wasn’t overtly cold as it was now, typically balanced between being fairly warm yet decently cool.

Usually, your time with your dear wife was cut short from the barrage of missions piled up one after another, shrouding her schedule immensely. Mission after mission led to Arlecchino trudging out of the house with her infamous fluffed harbinger coat hung loosely over her shoulders, deep eyes looking back to the opening in annoyance upon being unable to spend more time with you. She dreaded it. The prospect of leaving you all alone so early in the morning scrambling along the fluffed sheets for her touch, only to wake to an empty edge in disappointment.

Although you were in fact slotted in a position within the ranks of the Fatui, you never found yourself venturing out on an array of missions like Arlecchino was. Preferring to keep to yourself as you weren’t exactly the brightest when it came to negotiations. Each day, you found yourself lounged on the couch of your shared home, cheek squished against the flat of your palm in anticipation for the door to creak open to reveal your beloved herself. You could only sigh as the clock hand flicked over agonizingly slow, your eyes lowered as your muscles tensed to await her arrival.

However, things were quite different when it came to the Tsaritsa’s request for negotiations in Fontaine’s watchful eye of justice, as it drew caution to Arlecchino having to go alone. It was quite clear on how oddly strict and valued the Nation of Justice’s view on lawful order was, posing a threat to her if she were to even slip up in the slightest manner. Not to mention, the Fatui were in fact highly fixated on and monitored especially in the nation, meaning every waking step she took in the streets would be monitored carefully one way or another. Of course, as the wonderful spouse you were, you had decided to take up to mission alongside Arlecchino, stunning even the Tsaritsa herself at your assertion.

Arlecchino’s eyes traced the fluffed pale clouds heaped along the clear sky, gaze lowering to the heavy stone gate solidly rooted into Fontaine’s earth. The two of you continued to approach the domed gate to one of the nation’s renowned cities, bustling crowds rushing through every corner in a split second once you both step foot through the gate. You found yourself clinging to Arlecchino’s arm at the swarms of people closing in, fingers subtly squeezing the fabric in mild discomfort.

It wasn’t long before she took notice of your visibly cramped form and furrowed brows as you grasped her arm for support, her arm circling your waist closely as a response to the gesture. Pushing past the crowd, you both ended up before a fine establishment resembling a hotel towering above you in an uncountable height of stories above. You pulled out a slip of paper from your jacket pocket swiftly, hand scrambling in the heaps of fluff before letting out a triumphant sigh upon finding it. Carefully, you unfolded the tattered paper, examining the building and the address before shoving it back and nodding to Arlecchino in affirmation.

A hollow gold light spanning across the hotel greeted you upon entering, bouncing off the gold handles before the front desk. Whatever address you had received, the negotiator sure was quite lavish in her tastes. Faint clicks of heels reverberated in your ears, the sound drawing closer with each tap against the floor. An uneasy feeling rocked within you as you could hear them, a sense of deception circling the atmosphere. You only pressed your shoulder to your wife’s to ease yourself, attempting to remain professional upon the negotiator’s arrival.

The woman’s eyes squinted down at you, clearly observing every minute detail that painted your complexion from head to toe, hand rested on her hip in a gust of silence swallowing the air. Blinking in surprise upon her hand stretching out toward you, her expression was strangely amiable, gaze lit up as she seemed ecstatic to meet you. “Ah, hello! It would be a pleasure to negotiate with you!”

You mindlessly shook her hand, puzzled at the sudden shift in demeanor from the woman as she grasped your hand. She breathed out a sigh as she pulled her hand away, huffing in response to compose herself before turning to Arlecchino. Her expression before Arlecchino quickly grew stern, voice dropping to one rather cold and unenthusiastic as they silently shook hands. The interaction alone only made your stomach twist in uncertainty, the sparking contrast in behavior she showed between you two clearly throwing you off.

“I suppose that you are in fact the renowned negotiator with such a high reputation among the Fatui?” Arlecchino inquired, voice low. You could pick up on the fact in no time that she sensed something off about this woman. She only breathed out an unsatisfactory hum in response and nodded, gaze darting back to you in seconds as her face lit up. Within seconds, you couldn’t help but stiffen when her pointer finger traced the bottom of your jawline, experimentally running it along your skin.

Rather amused at your confused look, she only smiled once more, pursing her lips together as she pulled away. Arlecchino’s gaze only grew dark as she observed her movements against you, mind stinging with displeasure at the diplomat’s unusual proximity toward you. She could only shake off that numbing annoyance elusively, looking away from the sight of someone else getting handsy with her darling.

Pulling back, the woman cleared her throat, folding her hands in front of her as she seemed satisfied with your jumbled expression. “Well..shall we begin with the negotiations? How about over coffee?” She mused. You nodded in compliance, glancing over at Arlecchino to note any objections. To which, she hesitantly provided none. Yet, she could only feel her skin bristle at the sight of the woman’s arm snaked over the back of your neck as a way of ‘guiding’ you to the said coffee store. Arlecchino was only left trailing behind, a maelstrom of fury embedded below her usually unfeeling face.

—

“Mm…(Name), sweetie, do you like the coffee I bought for you?”

You breathed out a puff of steam, expression relaxed as you only grinned at her in response. Perhaps she was to be trusted, as the negotiator had been nothing but kind to you, only treating you with the highest degree of affection and respect. Her adoring actions only led you to ease up around her, growing fairly close with her as if you were speaking to someone you already knew for years. Despite the relief that she was friendly, you couldn’t help but being unable to shake off the same uneasiness that jabbed at the back of your brain at her initial arrival. Plus, paired with her dismissive treatment toward Arlecchino only served to throw you off, shrinking away from trusting her altogether.

“Ah. Yeah…you really know your stuff here don’t you?” You chuckled in response, occasionally glancing over at Arlecchino who was left unchecked throughout the entire course of your “negotiations.” Arlecchino noticed your eyes frequently darting over to her, causing her to sit up from her slight slouch and dismissively wave her hand toward you. Nodding, you turned back to the negotiatior, elbows propped up onto the table and palms on either side of her face as she pushed her shoulders forward.

Suddenly, your wife couldn’t hold back her words for the sake of something so silly intruding on your original mission, leaning forward as she spoke up. “About the negotiations-“

The woman only shot the harbinger a sharp glare, cutting her off with a frown. Yet, it was plain obvious that Arlecchino wasn’t the meek type, a stir of hatred boiling within her for this sudden diplomat who came to snatch you out of nowhere. She held her tongue, yet not out of submission, but rather out of restraint—afraid she would be unable to keep her composure and snap at the high authority figure to quit her rather hands on approach toward you.

Throughout the course of the uncomfortably drawn out conversation, consisting of downright lewd hints thrown out from the negotiator toward you only felt like an eternity of malaise tainting the atmosphere. An annoyed scoff from Arlecchino finally caught your attention as she stood up, the silverware and glass rattling against the table from the sheer force of her palms planted onto the table for support to raise her to her feet. She huffed out once more, shoulders hunched over in order to retain her emotions boiling up within her.

Fangs of jealousy sunk into Arlecchino as she walked away from the table without a word leaving her lips, the bitter taste seeping into her mouth only pushing her further into a deep annoyance. She typically didn’t show any sort of emotion that would come close to nearly eliciting this type of anger from her, yet perhaps her sole affection toward you only fueled her otherwise closed off heart. Her guarded heart that only beat for you.

—

“A-Arle- mm..please..”

You lay helpless below her touch, soft gasps sharply rushing past your lungs as her lips glided along yours in a slow, passionate rhythm. Her darkened hands only curled around your wrists to hold you down, continuing her flaming kisses burning against your tongue as your eyebrows raised with that needy expression she loved oh so much. Quiet pants echoed in your ears as Arlecchino pulled away, eyes glossed over as the woman hovering above you looked foggy from your slightly blurred vision.

You couldn’t help but relish in the feeling of her sharp nails dragging along the protruding veins of your wrist in slow circles, crimson lipstick smeared across a new area of your throat every time you looked down. Arlecchino only hummed in satisfaction against your flushed skin, her own body weight along yours locking you down in place as the strap fastened around her waist pressed down onto your lower abdomen.

Muffling through your endless barrage of whimpers, you managed to breathe out through her relentless assault on your body. “I- ah- m’sorry Arle..I- didn’t realize she- mm..was doing that..I promise I didn’t enjoy-!” Your voice resembled that of a choked back sob, immediately hushed by Arlecchino’s soothing voice vibrating from her throat.

“Shh. It’s okay, darling. I would never think so lowly of you, and I know you aren’t that kind of person. The woman I fell in love with is below me, only desiring my actions in this moment, right?” She assured, lips stretching in a gentle smile as her pointer finger dragged down your chest all the way to your stomach.

You only heaved a sigh of joy, which was almost immediately cut off by a high pitched moan upon feeling her middle finger trace your slit. Your panting came out in shallow breaths as her x-marked eyes bore into you, gleaming red like that of a blood moon shone brightly to illuminate your complexion. Her touch was all that you craved in this moment, feeling a wash of affection overtake you at your wife’s calming presence soothing you in even your greatest moment of uncertainty.

Underwear nearly dropped down to your ankles, Arlecchino only seemed entranced by your slick glistening along your folds as such a gorgeous sight to behold. Her eyes darted back up to you once more, gaze meeting yours.

“May I continue?”

To which you only nooded eagerly, eyes flickering to her silicone cock pressed along your stomach. The second you felt the tip intruding along your walls, you immediately gnawed on your lower lip defensively, suppressing your inevitable noises.

Her lips pushed against yours once more, capturing you in a deep, languid kiss as her hips rolled against yours in circular motions, length fully pushing into you with each thrust. Your walls clamped around her faux cock like a vice, moans bouncing off the walls as her cock continued to massage that one spot within you. Everything was absolutely intoxicating. Arlecchino’s scent, her praises, her body pressed to yours, the way she was buried inside you. It was all as if she was so deeply connected to you that she never wanted to let go—as if it went to show how much she loved you with everything she had.

“Just like that. Archons, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

It didn’t take long for the sensation bundling up within you to finally snap, your walls tightening around Arlecchino’s cock to make sure she couldn’t pull back. Your juices coated the strap all over, the messy fashion of it dampening the sheets below you as she let out a satisfactory breath in response. Slowly, Arlecchino waited for you to come down from your high to loosen your grasp around her dick, her palm pressed to your face gently as she thumbed at your cheek in a reassuring manner to take your time,

Before long, you were strewn out on the bed, exhausted as Arlecchino’s arm was draped over you protectively. Her face was nuzzled into the crook of your neck, taking in your warmth as her nerves eased up. As she law curled up beside you, protecting you in her arms as you slumbered, it was as if all her vexations had disappeared from earlier today, her mind was finally put at ease.

That you were hers. And hers only.

—

The next morning, you met up with the negotiator once more, with her face twisted in confusion and mild hint of disappointment at the sight of Arlecchino holding you up to help you walk. Surely your legs weren’t functioning well enough after the previous night. The woman only tapped her chin with an unintelligible grumble, eyes darting away as you let out an awkward chuckle.

“I- ah..ahem..shall we discuss the negotiations..?”

Funny how quickly she had switched up the second she realized that you wouldn’t even think about leaving Arlecchino’s side. You loved her far too much to detach yourself from her arm even. You nodded toward her as you leaned your head onto Arlecchino’s shoulder, eyes dreamy and filled with a sort of solace tinged into your soul as you gazed up at her.

She stared back down at you with the same affection that she would only reserve for the likes of you, hand tightening into your protectively once more.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: WOOOO DID THIS ON A SCHOOL NIGHT IT IS 12:43 AM I THINK IM FUCKED BUT THATS OKAY 🔥🔥🔥

FINISHED MY PHYSICS LAB FEELING GOOD I LOVE EATING THE WALL I AM HORRIFIED TO SLEEP CAUSE I JUST WATCHED SMILE 2 AND HOLY SHIT THEY WERENT WRONG ABOUT NOT WATCHING THE MOVIE IF YOU WERENT IN THE BEST PLACE MENTALLY BUT THATS OKAY BC IT WAS GOOD AND I LOVE NAOMI SCOTT. I’m still fucking scared of the curse and the stupid entity tho

Why am I dumping this what this was a long ass a/n rant probably bc I’m traumatized from the movie lol I don’t wanna step foot in my hallway in the dark.

Anyway please enjoy dinner is served and back to school but break is soon so we’re good

monker

[maybank5]

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞

pairing ⤜ yn x jj

summary ⤜ a happy future fic, because we need some healing; jj on the beach with his family reflecting on his life.

a/n ⤜ how are we doing fam? me? not so well. this has been the hardest fictional moment that's ever hit me. i'm choosing to believe our boy is still off somewhere and gonna have the best, most fulfilled and loving future. sending hugs and love to each of you!!

song inspo ⤜ no song inspo for this one; but i did have 'nights in white satin' on repeat as i wrote

The sun is setting over the horizon, sinking down into the ocean and melting into streams of gold and orange against the shimmering water. JJ Maybank perches on his surf board for a moment, admiring it. He's never considered himself to be the most religious of people. Sure, he attended Sunday school as a kid, knows the bible stories decently enough; and yeah, there's times when he catches himself praying. Like the time John B got into that nasty accident, or when his son was born. There'd been complications, things had been touch and go for a moment. JJ had pressed his head against the glossy white wall of the hospital waiting area, hoping to God that things would be okay, as John B and Sarah rubbed his back comfortingly.

The one time JJ didn't pray might have been the one time he should. He'd been stabbed, by his son of a bitch father. Not Luke, the "real one" though JJ found it almost funny how he preferred to think of Luke fuckin' Maybank as his actual father. At least Luke had never tried to stab him. But that was beside the point; JJ had been stabbed, and things were not looking good. John B had felt for a pulse and had felt nothing. JJ can still remember the feeling of floating away, like riding a wave to the horizon. He hadn't prayed then. Instead, he'd made peace with his fate. He'd lived a pretty damn full life in 20 years, and if this was the end of it, so be it. At least on the other side, no one would be trying to hurt him, right? That sounded mighty nice to him. So he'd closed his eyes and let himself drift off towards that horizon.

Only instead, he'd woken up in a hospital, still very much alive. His best friends at his side. Pope and Kiara barely left his side, and John B had practically crawled into the bed with him to hold him in his arms until a nurse had yelled at him. JJ doesn't remember feeling such love until that moment. And that was when it all changed. He'd been given a second chance, and an opportunity to see just how loved and valued he is. He was never going to squander it or take it for granted again.

The sun is sinking lower, the water in front of him glittering in gold. JJ pushes his wet hair back off his forehead to admire it. Years ago he'd have just shrugged it off. Sunsets were a dime a dozen. Not anymore though. Now JJ takes the moment to sit and watch and appreciate.

He glances back to the shore, where his wife and baby are playing in the sand. Harley John Maybank's (it'd be a cold day in hell if JJ ever took the name of that man) new favorite thing was trying to rush to the water, his mom and dad hot on his heels. JJ could tell already that Harley was going to be a handful, and he couldn't fucking wait.

The waves were rising higher. It'd make for a sick surf tonight. JJ bites his lip, turns and paddles back to the shore. Some priorities rank higher than waves.

He tucks his board under his arm and hurries over to where the two of you are building a sandcastle with Harley's little castle-shaped buckets.

"Hey, baby," you glance up at your husband, reaching out and touching his cheek with his hand, always little assurances like that to make sure he's real, "Not surfing?"

"Nah," JJ shakes some water from his head, "Much rather'd build sand castles with this little one," he ruffles Harley's head of blonde hair, glistening in the sunlight.

You can't help but smile as he sinks down into the damp sand to help Harley stuff sand into his buckets. Moments like these is when it truly hits you, just how blessed you are.

JJ gently helps Harley, his eyes so soft and full of love and devotion. Harley John is his utmost pride and joy. He's always been soft with you, but the gentleness in which he treats your son is beyond anything you could imagine.

JJ packs the sand into the bucket with the back of a little plastic shovel. He wonders if maybe there was a time he'd done this as a boy, but shakes the thought from his head. It doesn't matter. He can do it now. He can do it with Harley.

"Sarah called earlier," your voice pulls JJ from his thoughts, "She and John B are going to have Baby Jackson christened. John B is supposed to ask you to be the godfather tomorrow, but Sarah couldn't wait to tell me. You know the two of them, it's not a church thing or anything. Just The Pogues and the ocean."

"Sounds nice," JJ says, wrapping his arms around Harley and pulling him softly onto his lap.

JJ reaches for your hand, pulling you to him as well. He presses a kiss the back of your hand, holding your hand and running his thumb over your knuckles. Nothing ever feels one hundred percent real unless JJ can feel it, touch it, revel in it. He tosses his head back as the evening breeze licks through his hair.

And in that moment, JJ can't help but stop and say thank you.

Because JJ Maybank lives every day in paradise.

[lightseoul]

IN THE DARK (1.8k)

a/n. thought about taking a break from my 2k milestone event by writing something that felt very personal to me. i was supposed to rest today but this sort of just...happened. i hope y'all like it.

cw. afab!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up characters, themes of body image issues, mentions of weight gain, minor nsfw references, basically just some hurt/comfort goodness

you’re in the middle of re-scooping your boobs into what has become a tiny ass tank top when a soft array of knocks echoes from the door.

“babe? are you almost done?”

alarmed, you quickly glance at the mirror. it only takes you one look at your reflection to decide that nope—you’re definitely not going with this one—before you swiftly tug it off your body.

at least, you try to do so.

the fabric catches on the areas of your torso that have noticeably gotten fuller in the course of the past year and a half. you huff in frustration as you squirm, desperate to have what used to be your favorite halter top off you.

another round of knocks comes again.

“babe? you okay in there?”

“yeah!” you manage to choke out, finally out of that damned material. “don’t come in—i’m not decent.”

the moment you say those words, you instantly know what the reaction would be.

“hah?” comes his incredulous, borderline offended reply. “the fuck do you mean ‘you’re not decent’?”

scanning the interior of your small walk-in closet, you feel the panic rise in your throat until your eyes land on the pajamas and baggy t-shirt you were wearing before you started trying out outfits for the reunion you were having with the class of 1a tonight.

“i’m just in my underwear,” you retort, frantically putting back on the much more forgiving articles.

“i think i’ve seen you with much less than that, dumbass.”

“okay,” you call out, ignoring his comment and slightly winded from your efforts, “you can come in now!”

as if on cue, the door slowly opens, and in comes bakugou, who’s already dressed in a crisp, black button-down and straight-legged pants, a suspicious glint in his eyes as they dart across the room before landing on you.

and when they do, his lips almost instantly form into a frown.

“i thought you were getting changed?”

you feel yourself flame in embarrassment despite yourself.

“yeah, well…” you wrack your brain for a not-so-incriminating excuse, “none of the outfits i was envisioning are working.”

well, that is the truth, anyway.

it’s just not necessarily complete.

“okay…” he drawls out, entirely unconvinced. “why’d you put your pajamas back on, though? it’s not like i haven’t seen you naked or some shit.”

“uh—” you pause, before finally settling with: “—it’s just that i’m wearing ugly panties, is all. real granny, the-type-you-wear-on-your-period kinda stuff.”

bakugou only stares at you. “since when have you cared about me seeing that?”

you are not about to say that was a shitty excuse you pulled from your ass just now.

so instead, you turn your back against him and start riffling through the racks of clothes. “how ‘bout you help me pick out what to wear for tonight, huh, kats?”

a few moments of silence pass before you finally hear a quiet ‘sure’—which is immediately followed by him stepping forward and occupying the space beside you.

he goes through the options himself before his hands land on the white, off-shoulder peplum blouse you got around a year ago. taking it by the hanger, he lifts it on display.

“how ‘bout this?”

you immediately shake your head. “those make my arms look extra big.”

at that, bakugou’s face contorts in confusion. “what? no, they don’t.”

you chuckle dryly, wondering why you’re even having this conversation.

you coax the shirt from his grip and place it back where he pulled it from. “pick another one.”

bakugou doesn’t say anything, but you can feel him side-eyeing you more than anything. still, he relents, and picks out a sky-blue sleeveless high-neck top you copped from your go-to store a few months ago.

“i remember you looked really good in this,” he offers.

you hum absentmindedly at his comment, studying the spandex-like material. ultimately, though, you shake your head.

“that one hugs me in all the wrong places. really emphasizes my midriff.”

“but—”

“can you choose another one, please?”

the man huffs in what you think is disgruntlement but follows suit anyway. once again, he traces his hand along the articles of clothing for a minute until they finally stop at what used to be your favorite sleeveless, v-neck black crop top.

grinning, he pulls it out.

“you’ve got to wear this.”

at the sight of it, you pull your lips into a tight line. “…i don’t know, babe.”

“seriously?” he asks, looking dangerously close to insulted. “this one makes your boobs look absolutely incredible.”

“katsuki!”

“what? i’m not wrong, am i?”

for a second, you let yourself imagine what you would look like in that rather skimpy top. and for a brief moment, you actually believe it’ll work out.

that is until you remember you’re imagining the you from way back when, and the last time you put it on a few weeks ago, you thought you looked fucking horrendous.

with a heavy sigh and a shake of your head, you take the clothing from his hand so you can return it to the rack.

at least, you try to, because bakugou doesn’t let you.

when you tug again and his grip tightens, you finally look up at the man, confused.

“wha—”

“we need to talk.”

almost instantly, your stomach drops in anticipatory dread.

“oh?” you try to answer nonchalantly, trying to take the item again from his hold. thankfully, this time he lets go, but his serious gaze that’s fixed on you remains unyielding.

“oh? that’s all you have to say?”

you turn away from him, moving to hang it back on the cabinet. “i don’t think there’s time for that right now, kats.”

to further emphasize your point, you glance down at your watch, which now reads 6:17 pm.

fuck.

you’re already going to be late.

you think about it for a beat before finally coming to a conclusion and shifting to face him again.

“i think you should just go ahead.”

bakugo gapes at you like you just told him the sky was green. “what?”

“we’re already running late and i haven’t even done my makeup, let alone picked out what to wear,” you reason.

“you really think i even want to go to this stupid party?” he retorts right back. “you’re the only one who makes them bearable. to hell with this going alone shit.”

“but—”

“not happening, babe.”

you let out a heavy exhale, struggling to tamp down the disappointment at your failed attempt to get out of the situation.

neither of you says anything for what feels like minutes before bakugou finally breaks the monotonous quiet.

“…can i ask you something?”

his voice is so uncharacteristically soft that you can’t help but look up at him despite the visceral urge to avoid his gaze, anticipatory anxiety now churning in your gut at the question.

the man, though, apparently takes your silence as a yes, because he continues.

and you barely manage to stop yourself from choking on your spit when he does.

“why do we only have sex in the dark?”

that was not what you were expecting him to say.

“e-excuse me?”

bakugou moves to rub the back of his neck, perhaps feeling sheepish at his blunt query.

but he presses on.

“it’s just that i remember it wasn’t always like this. when we first started getting intimate with each other, you didn’t mind when the lights were on or if the curtains weren’t drawn. but then…”

“my preferences simply changed,” you interject, scared of letting him continue.

“really?” he asks, but the question seems more rhetorical than not. “because if you were to ask me, i’m starting to think…maybe, just maybe—and i could be wrong about this—you don’t want to be perceived.”

a long pause.

“baby?” comes bakugou’s worried voice when you don’t reply. “did i hurt you?”

you shake your head, although your eyes are trained downcast to your socked feet, unable to meet his gaze.

“say something, please.”

at his request, you finally look up, trying to blink away the tears that are pooling in your eyes before he notices.

but it’s either you don’t do it fast enough, or he’s just insanely perceptive, because bakugou manages to catch sight of it, eyes widening the second he does.

“shit, i’m so—”

“it’s okay!” you chuckle, waving him off. you take the hand that was just reaching out to wipe the tears away and encase it with yours. you chance a glance at the man, who’s now peering at you guiltily.

“i really didn’t mean to hurt you,” he starts again, “i just wanted to finally talk about it because—”

“i know, i know,” you cut him off before he can ramble any further. “don’t worry, babe. i’m not angry at you. it’s just…”

you take a shaky inhale.

“…it’s just that it’s been so hard, you know? i really try not to dwell on it because most of it is beyond my control, but…whenever i try on a dress that used to fit me so well, or when i look at my reflection, or especially when i’m bare for you to see and i feel your eyes roving over my body—it just hits me all over again.

“the fact that this is how i look like now. and i hate it.”

you look at bakugou, who’s staring at you so intently with a pained expression on his face.

“you don’t have to say anything,” you quickly add on. “i know this is kind of a lot to take in.”

“yeah—no, it’s just that i’m angry at myself for ever making you feel judged,” he huffs, and you can practically hear the frustration seeping out from his tone.

he tightens his hold on your hand.

“believe me, baby, when i say that when i look at you all so vulnerable like that, it’s never me fucking judging you. i can’t even—

“i can’t even begin to describe how much i love your body. every time i see even just a sliver of what’s underneath your clothes i get so hard i—”

you snort.

“—laugh all you want, but it’s true. it’s fucking embarrassing sometimes, how much my body reacts to seeing yours, but it’s true.”

you shoot him a sad, albeit grateful smile, to which he responds by squeezing your hand.

“look, i know i can’t change how you feel about your body, and i understand that you want to look differently. but i also do know that i can’t just stand here and watch you tear yourself apart like that. you don’t deserve any of that, you fucking hear me?”

you don’t even know where to start with your reply, so you opt to just nod wordlessly instead.

“good,” he grunts. “i’m just here to support you, whatever you wanna do. you already know that i think you’re beautiful the way you are right now, but if you want to do something or work towards a certain goal, i’ll be here.

“i know a thing or two about fitness, if you’re interested in exploring that.”

“really?” you beam at him, already feeling so light. “you’ll really help me with that?”

at that, bakugou scoffs. “‘course i will, dummy. actually…”

you peer at him curiously. “actually, what?”

he grins at you, the mood suddenly taking a mischievous turn.

“…i actually know of a certain cardio activity i wanna do right now, if you’re open to that.”

my replies, reblogs, and asks are open if you wanna talk about stuff <3 sending hugs to you!

[dixonswingz]

Best Run Ever

Summary: Carol makes you and Daryl go on a run together, hoping this would make you friends. All you two ever did though was argue. Although, after this run you’d be thanking Carol.

Warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f!receiving), semi-public, slapping, spanking, punishment, pet name, angry smut, rough, overstimulation

wc: 1873

“C’mon!”

You were going on a run with Daryl. Ever since you met, there has always been a weird feeling. You argue almost every time you are within each other's vicinity. This run is gonna be hell.

This was Carol’s idea. You love Carol, she’s like a mother to you. But right now, you were just full of anger. She was trying to get you guys to start being nice to each other. All the arguing was giving everyone a headache.

You grunted, grabbing your bag full of necessities. This was going to be about a 3 day run. Daryl was sitting on his motorcycle, impatiently waiting for you. As you sat down on the motorcycle, Daryl let out a frustrated sigh.

Daryl grabbed your hands and wrapped them around his waist. He was getting impatient, he just wanted to get this over with. As the path he took got bumpier, more friction was rubbing against your clit. God, you can’t be feeling like this right now. What if Daryl could feel a wet spot through your pants?

You sighed, holding onto him tighter. Although you always argued, when you first laid eyes on Daryl you thought he was pretty attractive. Did you think about him every time you touched yourself? Yeah. But you felt pretty guilty about it.

Once you guys got to a decent location, you both hopped off the bike and began searching all the buildings. Thankfully there weren’t lots of walkers, making this easier to get stuff.

After raiding a couple of stores, you found a makeup store. Lately, you’ve felt extremely insecure. In the world before, you always wore makeup because you didn’t feel beautiful enough.

Drifting away from Daryl, you snuck inside the makeup store and began to look at what remained. There was only one walker, it was easy to kill. As you were looking at some lipsticks and eyeshadow, you heard the floor creak. You shrugged it off, assuming it was Daryl.

All of a sudden, you felt hands grab you. It was a walker. “Fuck!” You screamed. Daryl immediately ran after the sound of your voice trying to find you. The walker was so close to your face, you thought this was it.

Daryl busted through the front door, immediately killing the walker that was on top of you. He looked pissed. “ ‘Er really lookin for makeup right now?” The frustration in his voice growing.

”Knew this was a bad idea. Comin all the way out ‘ere with yer dumbass.” Anger grew over your face. What did he just call you? You clenched your fists, really upset. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” As you stepped closer, you really got the urge to just slap him.

”Ya heard me. Yer a dumbass.” You’ve had enough. Without thinking, you slapped him across the face and ran out the building. You didn’t know where you were gonna go, so you just decided to run off to where he left the motorcycle.

As you sat against a tree, tears started to form in your eyes. And soon, they were sliding down your pink cheeks. Even with all the arguing, he’s never called you any names before. This hurt you, a lot.

Daryl had followed behind you, not bothering to run. A few twigs snapped behind you. It was Daryl. “Go the fuck away.” As you spoke, you tried to not make it obvious you were crying but you could hear it in your voice. “Naw.” Daryl grabbed you and pulled you up by your shirt.

Fear grew in your eyes. Was he about to hurt you? “W-what are you doing..” He carried you over to the motorcycle. “ M gonna teach ya a lesson.” All you could think about was the possibility of him hurting you. Daryl put you down on your feet, he could see the fear in your eyes.

You gulped nervously. “Bend over.” Heat took over your face. You didn’t know if you were hearing things right. “Huh..?” Daryl grunted and forced you to bend over the motorcycle seat. “Already ignorin me?” His hands grabbed at the waistband of your pants. This aroused you, but all this time you thought he hated your guts.

He pulled down your pants, revealing the hot pink thong you were wearing. Seeing that only made him harder. Suddenly, you felt a sharp stinging pain in your ass as Daryl slapped you harder than you could imagine. You yelped out at the sensation, but you enjoyed it.

”If ya slap me ever again.. just think about this moment.” Daryl hummed as he spanked you again. He pressed his bulge against your barely covered pussy as you whimpered, grinding against him before he forcefully grabbed your hips. “I’m in charge. Ya ain’t gettin anything your way darlin.” You whined. All you wanted was to feel him inside of you.

”D-Daryl please..” Your voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear you. Another forceful slap landed on your ass. “Please wha?” Although you couldn’t see his face, you knew he had a stupid smirk on his face. You could hear it. “Please… fuck me.. I-i need it..”

He raised you to his chest as he roughly pulled your shirt off, tits bouncing as the restricting fabric was gone. “Always knew ya were a slut” You got goosebumps as he whispered in your ears. He pushed you back down against the seat as he unbuckled his belt, letting his pants fall to his ankles.

You started to grow impatient. His finger ran along the thin, small cloth covering your pussy. You let out a quiet moan, getting wetter every second. Daryl bent down, pulling the thong off of you as he went on his knees.

The slick on your lips glistening in the sun aroused Daryl even more. He leaned closer, breathing against your pussy as you shuttered at the feeling. A loud moan escaped your lips as he plunged his tongue into you. He smacked your ass, trying to get you to be quiet. Neither of you wanted to die in this moment. Although, this would be a good way to die.

He was eating your pussy like it was a 5 course meal. You gripped onto the motorcycle stabilizing yourself as you clenched against him. You were close. Daryl pulled away right as you were about to finish, and you let out a whine when you felt his tongue gone.

Daryl chuckled to himself thinking about something he wanted to do to you. All of a sudden, a stinging pain was sent throughout your hole. You whimpered in pain, but also pleasure. “Stop teasing… Please..” You begged him. All you needed was his cock inside of you.

He was getting impatient himself, so he ended the teasing. When he pulled down his boxers, his hard cock slapped against his stomach. He lined himself up with your entrance as you could feel the wetness of the precum on his tip. “Bad girls get punishments. And you slappin me? Tha made me real pissed off.” The anger and southern accent in his voice turned you on more.

Without warning, Daryl pushed into you completely. Immediately he started fucking you hard. “O-Oh fuck! S-shit!” You moaned out nonsense, loving how his thick cock felt inside your small pussy.

One hand wrapped around your waist as he pulled you up so your back was against his chest, the other grabbing your throat. He fucked you like there was no tomorrow. His grunting and quiet moans in your ear pushed you to the edge. As your orgasm took over, he fucked you harder and faster. You didn’t even think he could do that.

He moved his hand from your throat, to your mouth. He shoved a few fingers in your mouth to silence you as you reached your high. Daryl groaned once he felt all your cum covering his cock, but he didn’t slow down. Did he even plan on stopping anytime soon?

Your legs started shaking when you realized he was not stopping. You whimpered against the fingers you were sucking on, your body becoming so overstimulated. He was close, his thrusts stayed rough but his hips were stuttering against you as his orgasmed approached. Your whole body felt weak. “Mphm.. D-Daryl.. Too much..” You stopped sucking his fingers as you let him know you couldn't take it anymore.

”Don’ care. ‘M gonna fuck ya however long I want.” You whimpered at his words. He almost pulled out fully, leaving the tip in you. Then, he thrusted back in so hard you threw your head back and whimpered loudly. “FUCK!” You screamed out as he buried himself deep inside you, letting himself go. The warmness inside your pussy felt so good.

He pulled out, bending down to taste the mixture of the both of you. You moaned softly, letting out a quiet whimper when he pulled away. You let your body just lay against his motorcycle as you had no strength left in you to stand up. “I’ve been waiting for that..” You let out a small giggle as you confessed to him.

Daryl grabbed your ass as he pulled up your thong and pants for you. “Me too.” Redness covered over your face. You didn’t know he felt the same way. You were kinda surprised he was helping you get dressed since the two of you always bickered. He always seemed like a dick to you.

He pulled his pants up, shoving his limp cock back into his boxers. He tightened his belt as you stared at him, admiring the view in front of you. Darly’s eyes locked with yours and a small grin grew on his face. He grabbed your shirt he had thrown onto the ground and slipped it back over your head, placing a kiss on your forehead.

”Let’s go find somewhere to stay for tonight” You nodded in agreement as he put his bag back on, sitting down on the motorcycle. You threw your bag back on you, almost stumbling over as you stood up. He made your legs feel like jello. Thankfully though, he let you hold onto him for stability.

As you sat behind him, you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his shoulder. “Daryl?” He hummed in response. “I-is this gonna be a one time thing? Am I gonna just be your sex slave?” What you really wanted was a relationship. Yeah, you were horny all the time but you also just wanted some love. “Do ya want it to be that way?” You sighed, hoping he didn’t want it to be that way. “No… I wanna be with you and to be able to love you and call you mine.” This made Daryl blush. He turned his head slightly towards your head. “‘M too. So how bout I make ya mine?’

You nodded against him with a wide smile on your face. You were definitely gonna thank Carol for making you go on this run when you return back to the prison. He started the motorcycle and drove off, searching for a safe place to stay for the night. This was the best run you’ve ever been on.

id appreciate feedback as this is only my second time writing smut. also i’d appreciate messaging me some requests! i wanna start writing more but my mind is so blank right now 😞

[b1rds3ye]

Can you make a fic / short headcanon of how the COD men reacts to reader riding those bull mechanical? Their usual bar/pub has installed a new attraction which is that bull mechanical. Either they dared reader or reader wanted to try to ride, depends on the character. You know how those bulls move makes the rider look like they’re grinding?? Yeah I wanna know how the guys reacts to that 👀

OHOHOHOHO GOT IT thank you for sending in the request!! This is the first one this blog has gotten 🥳🥳 I hope you enjoy~

Ride On

The local bar has installed a mechanical bull for an extra activity among the drunk and whimsical. One day off duty, you decide to give it a go and have some fun, and it seems the boys are enjoying it just as much as you.

Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, König

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions (except you're shorter than König)

Word Count: 2.5k (~500 each)

Genre: Fluff, Spice, established relationship

Warning: Spicy (but no smut), 18+/MDNI,  awkward dialogue (it’s the cutest thing during flirty time fight me)

A/N: I don’t even write stuff that’s mildly spicy so I hope I did a decent job - also apparently mechanical bulls can do some real damage oh my god???

Captain John Price

On duty Price may be your direct superior but off duty you were more than free to do as you please even in his presence, he had always been clear about that. So he knew you were up to something when you sauntered up to him asking him for permission to go on the mechanical bull in the middle of the bar

He could only stare at your deceptively innocent smile for a moment before repeating the mantra that you could do what you want, his free hand automatically reaching into his pocket for a smoke as you strutted to the mechanical bull. You were going to be the death of him

He’s sure this is what emperors felt like in the days of old. Food, drinks, some very enticing entertainment and Price feels like he’s on cloud nine. Sitting by a table, he lounges back, thighs spread as he takes up the entire space of his seat and then some, feeling like a king as he watches you on the mechanical bull. He does not move, save for the occasional shift as his pants tighten

When you’re done riling him up, Price stays put as you approach him again. He can’t hide the incredible smugness he feels when the hungry eyes of strangers trail you, only to look at him in envy when they realise you’re already taken. He isn’t bothered by any of their stares, he can easily give any of them a piece of his mind

“You’ve got guts, love,” Price huffed out a puff of smoke. He remained seated by his table while you stood beside him, his face directly in line with your torso. His gaze travelled along every line and curve of your body that was so tantalisingly close, he could feel the body heat emanating from you. He stifled the urge to lick his drying lips.

“I did a good job though, right?” You beamed. He quirked an eyebrow at your sickeningly sweet voice. So you were going to keep up this charade, as if your face was only flushed from the physical exhaustion of remaining upright on the automaton and not from being so close but so painfully far away from him. Even in the darkness, he could see how your pupils swallowed your irises but he chose not to comment on it - he wasn’t faring any better.

“Passable. You’ve got two choices, sergeant.”

You swallowed, a shiver travelling down your spine as Price tilted his head down, idly extinguishing his cigar against the ashtray.

“Either you go back on the bull for some further training, give everyone here a sight for their sore, miserable eyes…”

Price regards you again, head up so that you could finally see his full face. Like a man lost for days in the desert, he gazed at you as if you were an oasis. Eyes lit up in awe, full of reverence, yet glazed over in carnal hunger.

“Or we leave this pub and you give me a private encore.”

Simon “Ghost” Riley

The instant he saw the new attraction he instinctively groaned under his breath. He already knew that you, Soap and Gaz will be provoking each other for some sort of competition. He’ll interfere if anyone seems uncomfortable but if it’s all smiles and laughs he’ll just quietly watch on with a mirth in his eyes reserved only for you and the task force (he will make a quip about you lot behaving like muppets though)

That being said, he already knows how suggestive a mechanical bull can look. When it’s decided that you’ll give it a go, Simon can only exhale slowly out of his mask, mentally preparing for an unexpected trial of restraint

He slinks back into the darkness of the bar, one with the shadows. His eyes shine like jewels as they reflect the treasure that is you. He drinks in the sight, committing it to memory. If from the bull you manage to see him in the gloom, his gaze is so intense it can single-handedly throw you off the automaton

Even off duty, he’s good at keeping his composure. When you return to him, you almost mistook him for being completely unfazed by your little stunt on the bull. But his voice is a little gruffer, the muscles in his throat straining with every syllable. He shows his neediness through his presence, you won’t be alone for the rest of the night as he accompanies you for even the smallest of errands

Rubbing your shoulder that was bruised from falling off of the bull, you beelined for the rest of the task force, only to get unexpectedly pulled towards the corners of the bar where the lights could not reach.

“Simon?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you feel his hand splayed across your spine. He was never big on public displays of affection, he was possessive in that all of his love will be seen by you only. Daring a move like this has you turning to him in concern, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest.

“We’ve got a problem.”

“And that is?”

Simon doesn’t reply, not verbally. He takes your hips in his hands, you can tell he’s trying his best to be gentle but his fingertips dig ever so slightly into your skin. Guiding you back to stand just in front of him, you grunted as you felt a hefty weight against your backside. Now that is a big problem indeed.

“Need you,” he rasps, voice so thick with air they were barely discernible words. You allowed him to pull you further against him, a guttural groan escaping him. “Fuck, didn’t know you could ride like that.”

“I’m a soldier of many talents,” you replied. He huffs against his face mask, digging his face into the crook of your neck. “I suppose I could go again. Just, not on the bull.”

Simon’s lips curved into a smile that warped the mask against your skin. His hands on your hips tighten, you won’t be escaping him anytime soon.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

When Johnny’s eyes settled on the mechanical bull, he then took a brief glance at you and his mind went places. This absolute menace is conjuring up a million and one ways to get you on that bull ASAP (with your wholehearted consent, of course)

He’ll do anything, making a dare, teasing you, trying to make a bet, just so he can see you mount that thing. He’s a dedicated man, once he has a goal he’s seeing it through, no matter how many playful slaps and lighthearted glares you give him. He’ll even set an example and go first - he’ll be flattered as hell if he can get you out of all people riled up

Johnny thinks he can handle it, but he’s always overestimating himself when it comes to you. He can’t play off how you’re bothering him as your hips slide forward and back against the saddle. He can only clear his throat uncomfortably and choke out a fake laugh when the rest of the 141 comment on how quiet he’s become

He bit off more than he can chew, he thought he was the smooth one for being blessed with such a sight but he’s finding himself more bewitched by you by the second. When you get off the bull he gives you a feeble punch on the shoulder, trying to act like he’s alright but really he’s completely at your mercy, hovering around you near begging you to give him attention

You didn’t even have time to greet him as Johnny pulled you away from the rest of the task force, down into a quiet corridor of the pub. His silence was unnerving, you asked him if something was wrong but his only response was his lips against yours. When you reciprocated, the Johnny you knew was back with you, smiling into the kiss with an exhale of eagerness into your mouth as he traps you against the wall with his body. His weight against you, it was already hard to get a breath in as he claimed your lips again and again and again. But what truly made you gasp was the hardness that brushed against your thigh. It was initially so brief, you could credit it as a phantom of your own lust, but as Johnny got bolder, it rested permanently against your upper leg.

Now that he made his predicament clear, he reluctantly pulled away from you, just enough for him to speak. His heaving breaths burned against your skin, no more than his azure eyes that bored into yours.

“I got another thing you can ride, aye?”

You burst into laughter as you gave him a playful shove on the chest. It did nothing push him off of you, his smile widening at your countenance.

“Johnny, that was awful.”

“I ain’t lyin’. My li'l MacTavish needs some help.”

“I swear to god I’m leaving you.”

“You know you love me. Now are you gonna help me or no?”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle has a playful streak, when he sees you eyeing the new attraction he’ll approach you with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he slides some cash to you. “This twenty says you won’t last five seconds on that.”

And with that, a light-hearted competition started. Kyle’s intentions were genuinely innocent, he just wanted to have some fun beyond drinking the night away. After you gave the bull a go he was wholly planning to try after you to show you how it’s done - and possibly impress you with superior balancing powers

It started off fun as you laughed at the odd movements of the bull under you and Kyle smiled with you. He’s willing to give up that twenty as you were clearly having fun

What he did not expect was how as the mechanical bull became more erratic, bucking indiscriminately in all directions that the sight seemed more… suggestive. A yelp of surprise from you has him situating himself behind a table, ensuring no one can see the growing issue below his hips

He dares a look at the rest of the task force who are taking in the sight innocently. Soap is shouting encouragements like a battle cry, Price pulls a face that’s a mix of amused and impressed, Ghost offers a single dip of the head in respect and now Kyle feels dirty, guilt mixing with arousal into a sinful concoction that drips down his tightening pants

As you returned back to the task force, Kyle immediately came up behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist, he sat his head on your shoulder, cheek against yours. With his entire body smothering yours, his whole being moved with every inhale and exhale of yours as you tried to recollect yourself after that exhausting ordeal of the mechanical bull.

“Getting touchy’s not going to make me forget about that twenty, Kyle,” you chided with a smile. You hear a little hmph as one of his hands dip into your pocket, resting over your hip bone. He slips the note in but his hand stays there, his thumb tracing over the wrinkles in your pants.

“You looked real nice up there, you know,” he mumbled into your ear before giving it a peck, arms tightening around you possessively.

“Feels like you enjoyed it,” you whispered, voice disappearing as you noticed something firm pressing against your ass. Your laugh came out far too weak. “Is that a pistol or are you happy to see me?”

He chuckled, husky and restrained, too distracted to reply. His hand in your pocket was becoming more animated, rubbing at your skin. Even through the fabric, you can feel how hot he is, only getting warmer as he gets more antsy, his free hand now tugging and teasing at your shirt.

Kyle spares a look at the rest of the task force, clearly distracted with their own drinking and antics.

“Do you think they’ll notice if we leave?”

“... No, let’s go.”

König

König will never ask you to go on the mechanical bull because he’d never go on it himself. Putting on a show for a whole lot of strangers in a pub? Potentially embarrassing himself in front of said strangers, his allies and you? The thought already fills him with dread and he is empathetic to never ask for such a thing from you. That being said, when it’s established you’re more than happy to give the bull a go, he’s not going to stop you

He knew how suggestive a mechanical bull can look but he figured he could handle it; he did not reach the rank of colonel by giving in to every temptation. But he should have known better when it came to you, your mere existence making him feel like he lost all composure and combat experience

Upon noticing the lustful stares of others, König doubles as a bodyguard. He slowly stalks around the bar, using his hulking figure to strategically block the view of you for others. He also takes note of anyone who seems a little too fixated on you, not hesitating to send a glare their way

Once you lose to the bull, he waits by the edge of the ring, taking your hand to escort you back to your friends. He does it both to be a caring partner for you, but also he’s preening as onlookers visibly deflate upon realising that if they want to get to you, they have to go through him

König’s hand was tight around yours, you could feel it occasionally twitch, aware of his own strength and trying to loosen his hold on you.

“Entschuldigung, mein Schatz,” he grumbled. “You wanted the night here, but I must leave.”

“Why?”

König turned his head away in embarrassment, but you noticed his eyes dipped lower for a split second. When you followed his gaze, you took a moment to pride yourself for getting your partner so riled up. It was only broken when he gently took your chin with his free hand, tilting it up - or just anywhere away from his growing predicament.

“It is embarrassing,” he muttered. “You were just having fun, but I am here… needing.”

“Not at all,” you smirked. “I wanted you to notice me.”

“I am always watching you, Schatz,” König whispered. He was getting bolder - or perhaps more desperate - with every word, the hand on your chin moving down to settle on one of your hips. You tilted your hips into his grip and the consequent breath he emitted was forceful and ragged. “I did not think such a machine could be so… crude.”

“But you liked the sight, right?” Your voice was smug as you pulled his face down to be in line with yours. You now had a perfect view of his eyes that were alight with lust, pupils blown so wide you could not distinguish if it was the gaze of a predator or prey.

“Zu viel.”

Call of Duty Masterlist