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justblades · 4 months

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❝ THE GENERALS' COCKSLEEVE ! ❞

ᝰ. JIYAN x afab! reader x GESHU LIN

๋ᝰ. IN WHICH geshu lin tries to heal your hurt heart as you thought it was a one sided love with jiyan

ᝰ. SMUT, 18+ ONLY. double vaginal penetration, threesome, possessive! geshu lin, WC: 4.2k

a confidential expedition was sought in order to study the occurrences in the battle beneath the crescent. as there was no concrete evidence that recounts the whole of what transpired way back then, it was then decided the magistrate to take precautionary steps to delve deeper into the event.

as soon as the decision has been made, jiyan reaches out for you to talk in private. a secluded room freed from disturbances and lurking ears, a solemn look dances in his golden gaze. "the magistrate ordered for us to study the geographic location when the first retroact rain befell." he states as he shuffles the letter back to the envelope that he received from jinhsi.

a wax seal of ivory color engrained with the sentinel jué's design adorns the surface, jiyan's fingers trail the edges. you purse your lips tightly, reluctance slightly rising from your façade of composure. a tale as old as time, the jinzhou residents knew very well the story of the battle of the crescent.

what dawns in your perturbed mind was the former general behind it, the one deemed as the hero, the savior of all eventually leads the lives of the many to meaningless sacrifices. just the mere stories of those who witnessed general geshu's might would suffice to reinforce the thought on anyone that he was strong, mighty, that those onyx flames of his seared and tore through his countless enemies.

you're just as curious as the person next door. being jiyan's one of the few trusted rangers, you nodded, giving consent to the mission. the two of you will then embark on the journey once the sun rays peek through the bed of stars and the darkness.

it will pass . . . and so, the daybreak arises.

coming vis-à-vis with the general upon the agreed time to meet, the two of you swiftly weave through the vast forest, eliminating any possible tacet discord that might hinder your exploration progress with swift and haste. "we're nearing the norfall barrens now, be careful." jiyan reminds you as he treads forward, the broadblade hoisted at hand to prepare for any case of danger to come.

"yes, general." you reply as you manage to scan your surroundings carefully. as the ground beneath your feet starts to feel different the farther you walked and the olden structures welcome your vision with a faint light, the general looks back at you to confirm his observation. nodding in agreement, a sharp, gelid wind blows within, jiyan's teal locks ripple along the muted breeze.

"the magistrate ordered for us to not stay here for too long, as there's a possibility we might encounter larger waves of tacet discords." he pauses for a short while. "however, if we do not split up and make haste, we might lose the frequencies left behind the battle that might lead to potential clues. given that we're both resonators, we're capable of diluting the echoes residing within the field."

he stops in his tracks, explaining the pros and cons of the decision to take. naturally, he's gearing towards the advice of jinhsi, as it is true that staying longer in this place will expose the two of you in greater danger. but a part of him doesn't want to split up from you, worrying he'll lose a trustworthy, competent figure in the midst of this expedition.

having known the general for quite some time, you've come to understand patches of his personality as if it were the back of your hand. you'd notice in the slightest change of his facial expressions, even more so in his tone lacing his words. no matter how miniscule the shift is, you'll always be able to know. "fret not, general. i assume you know me well as i know you." you simply state, flashing a small reassuring smile to subside the doubt gnawing at his bones.

jiyan nods slightly in exchange. "understood. i'll contact you via your terminal once i'm finished with exploring the half of the land and you'll do the same with yours. if you come into trouble, just ring me up, i'll come to your aid quickly." you reach for the gourd behind you, double checking if its functions are working in pristine condition.

after enough preparation, the two of you then separated ways with no goal other than to stay alive, rush to the aid of your companion in any hint of trouble and lastly, to pick up clues that draw back to the event. you make your way to the west of the norfall barrens, focusing on your senses to ensure that the exploration would go smoothly.

darkness envelops the whole land, dark embers of faded crimson continually drift from one place to another. among the lingering eerie noises resonating in the field, a distinct voice surfaces - "so it is you."

goosebumps ride on your skin as you prepare into stance and hoist your weapon, eyebrows furrowed as sobriety exudes from your body. when all of a sudden, a towering presence appears behind your back, and as you take a swift turn to face your supposedly opponent and strike them down in a single swing, black and indigo violet flames set the barren lands ablaze, kindling with the littlest movements from the broadblade the person does.

you take a step back, a suffocating heat engulfs everything, the oxygen left in your lungs thinning. struggling to catch your breath, you ball your fists and cough repetitively - the scale of this power is far too destructive.

"still holding out? impressive. no wonder he picked you."

once you finally manage to stabilize your breathing, you enhance your physical body with your forte, bracing impact once the person finally engages with you head on. within a blink of an eye, strands of long, grayish white hair comes to sight, and a pair of honey golden eyes lock gazes with yours.

he closes in with immense speed as the two of you exchange blows left and right. the male grits his teeth as the corner of his lips twitch upwards, "commend yourself for being able to withstand a fraction of my flames."

a gut feeling kicks in, that the danger you were watching out for - was finally settling. you instantly reach for the gourd as an attempt to reach jiyan on the other end, but no avail, the mysterious figure was faster than you. he approaches from above, swinging once more, clashing with your sword as his broadblade defeats yours. he successfully unarms you and manages to immobilize you with makeshift of bindings to keep you still. your back crashes flat on the dry land, a sharp pang of pain striking on your torso.

met with utter loss, he draws closer to you. he reaches his bandaged hand to your face, "could it be . . ." and your consciousness gradually fades away. "general geshu lin?"

rousing from a shortlived slumber, you jolt awake as your eyes peel open, your movements feel minimized. you examine the surroundings, and then yourself - a special restraint encages the both of your wrists together, seemingly one that is made of advanced technology especially catered to confine resonators. you knew from one look that it'd be useless to try and break free and you no longer bothered trying. instead, you opted for any possible methods to escape.

"general jiyan would not be able to come to your aid today, unfortunately." there it was again, the hoarse voice that resounds to your ears like a nightmare fuel. you flinch as you see him within your line of vision once more, confusion washes over yourself, at a loss for words in response to what he said.

"general, why?" was all you could verbalize amidst the worry pulling back your tongue. you bite your lip and could not help but think about jiyan, who put faith in your capabilities only for you to end up like this. "you're asking the wrong question." he says and kneels lower to your level, driving you to a corner as birch walls meet your back.

it was a small cabin from no one knows where that he resided in, necessary supplies and equipment arranged in a chronological manner displayed on the shelves. a dim light illuminated the vicinity, it flickers in opposition to geshu's strong gaze. "i know you have an unrequited love for the general - but you know as much as any midnight ranger that love is not a priority in jiyan's life."

his words struck like sharp lightning aiming to your heart, crushing it whole into smithereens of pain as your world flips upside down. questions come whirring in your mind, such as: why does he know? how does he know? what benefit does this fact bring to him?

unfortunately, his claim was true. being by the general's side for several years, you've seen him be vulnerable, reliable, and resolute regarding whatever trouble may come in his way. his bravery to withstand the lurking unknown sparked your faded flame inside your heart. jiyan became the beacon of light in your muddled world, as the two of you brave through the obstacles with joint forces, in every long night.

the sorrow he faced that you shared with him - it was halved. the joys he witnessed that you shared with him - it was doubled.

"come, be my companion instead. let us eliminate together the darkness at bay." geshu proposes and inches closer to you, his masculine features coming into full view. this time, you could see him better this time, only now noticing details you haven't before. a small mark adorns his face under his left eye and a diagonal scar carves his sultry lips.

he looks at you solemnly, you could feel the proximity between the two of you increase, until he finally presses his lips onto yours gently. shock courses in your veins - the general's tongue makes way inside your mouth, lapping your taste as it twirls with yours, performing a tantalizing rhythm to which mewls were elicited from the drowning pleasure.

you try to retort in opposition to his actions, but your protest was silenced as his right arm snakes its way up to your torso, tearing the fabric of your clothing with little effort. he nestles your nipple within the warm palm of his hand, his calloused fingertips fiddle on the very hard bud.

after making a concoction of your salivas mixed together, geshu breaks the kiss, leaving a trail that connects your lips to his. "i-i can't abandon general jiyan from a petty reason. i did not uphold my duty all this time just so my feelings were to be reciprocated."

his aureate irises fixate on your features, "and you're loyal too. sorry, but i won't be as gentle as jiyan is to you." geshu crashes his lips on yours once more, this time, a burning carnal desire exudes from his aura, hands now exploring your body, removing the remaining worn out clothing as your tits spring free, nipples erect as glacial winds caress your skin. "so? have you two engaged in such an encounter before?" he manages to query in between heated kisses.

a muffled "no" reverberates and geshu immediately understands. a smirk creeps up to his face and pulls away, an idea slipping into his mind as he now buries his face in the crook of your neck. he asserts dominance as the general flicks his tongue all over the shell of your ear, proceeding to give the whole part slow, sloppy licks, as well as biting on the lobe to determine which you'd like more.

as if you were melting, you felt like putty in his touches as he continues to toy with your breasts. he savors your skin down to the sweet spot on your neck, putting pressure once he sucks on the part, leaving lust filled bruises. taking turns from licking, biting, and sucking, he finally gets his fill as his erection grows bigger and harder to restrain within.

a thought crosses your mind as his bulge brushes on your clothed region, maybe it isn't that bad, accepting general geshu lin's proposal, that is.

geshu shifts positions, he lays on his back as he makes you straddle his pelvis. "cat bit your tongue? i suppose i have to let your body do the talking from here on." heat rushes to your cheeks, embarrassment dawning as you, ironically, grind your lower region against his bulge, creating friction to ease the lust brewing in your lower stomach.

the confinements of the both of your clothing felt impeding to the satisfaction the both of you are chasing. no longer spending time to be rational, you let your emotions guide your next course of action - you strip down his black pants alongside his undergarment, revealing his girthy cock itching for action.

it was adorned by the most prominent blueish veins, it continually twitches, as well as very warm in contrariety to the chilly, tranquil atmosphere encompassing the two of you. you gather spit from the back of your cheeks, redirecting it past your lips, creating leeway for it to trickle down geshu's throbbing dick.

with heavy lidded eyes and blind guess if the accuracy was right, your drool drips down from the head of his cock down to the shaft, cloudy hues gracing it. you slowly wrap your hands around his length, carelessly curling your fingers as you stroke it up and down, starting slowly yet sloppily.

geshu's body tenses from the foreign sensation, his legs trembling and arms jerking. he shuts his eyes, indulging in the feeling as you continue pumping him, granting you low growls of pleasure from the male. meanwhile you remain straddling him, higher levels of libido rushing to your bloodstream as you pick up the pacing. "t-that's it—" geshu verbalizes with a faint voice.

he gets along with your momentum, thrusting his hips upwards in accordance to your rhythm. as he was nearing his release the faster it dragged on, he rises only to flip your frail body around, pinning you down against the floorboards. geshu's chest rises and falls continuously, panting heavily as he feels his release draw back, much to his wish. you've never felt so small and helpless before.

you could pick up every detail of his body language, yet heeded no mind for the embarrassment that was previously gushing in your system. your mind starts to feel dizzy yet carefree, as if like you've drifted far away from reality and only cared about nothing other than satiating your hunger for carnal desire. once geshu's breathing stabilizes, he presses your lips against yours again, relishing every drop of your saliva.

it was becoming messy, but still, the two of you continued like animals in heat. he bites on your lower lip and sucks on the part up to no end, granting him winces of pain mixed with pleasure altogether. a deep chuckle resounds, "quite daring for you to enjoy that."

"no matter, i'll proceed as i please now." he continues and sweeps aside your soaked panties, revealing a heavenly view for him to revel in - white liquids seep out of your slit, a certain pungent scent wafts into his nostrils. "your scent is everywhere." the general states as a matter of fact.

uncertain if that was to be taken in a positive connotation, he wraps his hand around his dick and slaps it against your folds lightly, tapping the very head on your clit. the littlest touches send you spiraling into bliss, a strong yearning growing within. "put it in." you whisper with a weak voice. geshu looks at you, surprised, even more so once you add, "please."

your melting expressions have long been engraved in his mind, as he guides his tip to your slit, the door of his cabin busts open, a strong force sends it flying to the other side of the wall. geshu lin lets out a hoarse laugh, "ah, look who's here!" almost as if he was rejoicing, he repositions the two of your bodies, now holding you up as you sat on his dick.

your sight becomes hazy from all the foreplay ensuing, weakening senses coming back as you saw the familiar hues of teal within your bleary vision. jiyan stands across from your lust-lost bodies, eyes enlarging into two full moons as shock was painted upon his masculine features.

he hoists up his broadblade once more, threatening geshu to let go of your naked body. "general jiyan, if you would not treat such a competent figure like her right, then let me do it in your stead . . . as i am confident that i can treat her better."

rivalry rose from the two males, "that is no way to treat someone." jiyan's words cut through the thick tension sharply, while geshu's brows knit. "you say that, but have you paid attention to the face she's making?" just as he finishes his question, he pushes your body against his cock, thrusting into your cunt with no forewarnings. the intrusion makes a lewd, sloppy noise, accompanied by your moan unintentionally slipping.

a surprising warmth expands through your insides, stretching your velvet walls apart as they mold around the shape of the general's cock. you throw your head back in immense pleasure as he fills you up, mind almost threatening to go blank. "if you want to take her back, prove that she'd want you to reclaim her away from my grasp."

"if not . . . i'm afraid this will be the last time you'll be able to set your eyes on her."

jiyan has always been a rational person, one of the many qualities that renounce him to be truly befitting a title of a general. yet, as he sees you get lost among the sea of pleasure geshu lin has been drowning you in, a sense of ache thrums his heart against his ribcage. with slow steps he took, he's now merely inches apart from you.

geshu continues to hold you up and still, while jiyan leaves a chaste kiss on your cheek first and foremost: a sight that the former general would rather not have seen at all, contributing to his annoyance. while you remained there, incapable of taking action as if you're merely just existing. with little mustered strength, you manage to wrap you arms around jiyan's neck as you loll him into a deep kiss.

a deep kiss capable of delivering human emotions through an intimate action, "general. . ." your voice was faint, yet he understood your intentions. he shuts his eyes and let his emotions take control, immediately fondling your exposed chest as the icy tips of his golden armor fiddle your perked up buds. a moan escapes, followed by even more as the light haired general thrusts in and out of you with great force, the tip of his dick kissing your very womb. "g-general!" you yelp in an attempt to cry for mercy, yet you were only met with more brazenness.

"now you sound like you're yearning for two inside your tight hole." geshu says, frustration lacing his tone as he clicks his tongue afterwards.

jiyan's breathing becomes staggered, letting himself loose as he licks your boobs with his wet tongue, poking its tip on your erect nipples. your body flinches, its sensitivity building up while you remain a moaning mess. even you, yourself lost track of which general you were pleading to for, all you want is to drift afloat into the euphoric seventh heaven, with no other worries in mind but having your thirst quenched.

"will it fit . . ?" he asks as he casts you a look of concern, eyes fixing particularly on your lips that have been stained by three salivas all in all. jiyan unbuckles the dyad belt adorning his waist, letting everything come undone while geshu continues to pump in and out of you, his strong hands grip the plush of your thighs rather tight.

you could hear his mewls from behind, yet your attention was taken by jiyan who's currently stroking himself at the view in front of him. he sheepishly watches you get your cunt pistoned by the former general, his aching erection protruding from the fine fabric of his boxers. " . . . put it in too, general."

the two of them, simultaneously, had their jaws fall agape in shock upon hearing such yearning words come out of your mouth. with a sense of responsibility burning within jiyan, he strips himself naked at this point in time - ready to heed your request. his hands glide all the way down to your inner thighs, his dominant hand's fingers brush back and forth on your dewed folds. he anchors his attention on your pussy alone, at how it flutters every time geshu's cock pounds you in and out.

his patience starts to wear thin, the same could be said for you. with watery eyes and melting expressions, you call for him once more. "please." you mumble, but was eventually silenced as geshu turns you to him and initiates an open mouthed kiss. the teal haired general ached twice as much for more pleasure as he finally spreads your lower lips open, making more space for his dick to go in.

the head of his cock kisses the outermost part of your walls yet you were already squirming. numbness strikes through your legs and quiver, but geshu lin stabilizes them with his one arm hooked on the both of your thighs. he shoots jiyan a frustrated glare, one that seemingly felt that spoke words of "what are you waiting for?"

with slow motions, he finally inserts himself into you, the shaft of his cock comes into contact along with geshu's. jiyan's eyes dared to fall, a titillating feeling wallowing his dick whole. "so tight." he manages to utter in between his hardly stifled, ragged breathing, evident that this feeling was overwhelming.

it was getting overstimulating within each passing minute, with two, fat, big cocks buried inside of you, warming and accompanying your velvet walls as one of them itches to move - geshu's tip crooks inside and rubs on your sweet, textured spot, rewarding the generals your strings of satisfaction. "ah— i'm cumming!"

perhaps it was too late when you said it, but geshu pulls out, giving jiyan a chance to fully savor your slutty hole. "i'll make use of your mouth for now." he flips you around, making you stand on all fours with your ass perked upwards, giving jiyan a full view of your aching cunt.

you shake your hips in desperation, wriggling around just to feel his tip come into contact with your slicked walls again. all the while you coil your digits around geshu's cock, starting off with the head by kitty licks on its little slit. the white haired general loses composure and restraint, hands finding themselves cupping the frame of your face, urging for you to go deeper. as obedient as you became once lust runs in your system, you finally lap all his length up, and at the same time, jiyan rams into you, continuing where he left off earlier.

more sloppy sounds emit from the intercourse as slurping and licking accompanied geshu's dick. sweat begins to trickle all the way down all of your bodies, both the generals' luscious hair becomes disheveled, they ramp their movements by a notch as jiyan performs such impactful thrusts, ramming with his balls deep in and as for geshu, he fills your mouth with his dick alone - both aiming to chase the familiar feeling of release.

jiyan's pacing transitions into a faster one, hands gripping your waist hardly that'll certainly leave a burning sensation on your skin later on. meanwhile geshu lin, he bucks his hips forward, the tip of his cock kissing the very back of your throat. tears then begin to well up in your eyes, burning your irises as your gag reflex was getting harder and harder to tame.

"swallow it."

"i'll shoot it inside."

the both of them says in unison, and finally, strings of their sticky cum sprawl all over your body's insides: one in your womb and another in your throat. the two generals took some time to let these events sink in their desire filled minds, dicks still not softening any time soon.

jiyan looks at your naked back, the supple skin of yours makes him want to do more; eventually succumbing to the temptation. he wraps his arms around your chest and pulls you to a tight embrace, chin rests on your shoulder blade. you heavily pant, the back of your head now laid on the plane of his chest. the two of you then look over to geshu lin, whose facial expressions say that he's in no way satisfied. reading the ambience of the atmosphere, a gut feeling kicks in and tells you that jiyan feels the same.

geshu lin closes in, kissing away the drool escaping past the margins of your soft, sultry lips. jiyan then does the same, softly nibbling on your shoulder, making you elicit a short whimper.

"now, tell us. which one of us do you prefer?"

#wuthering waves jiyan #wuthering waves geshu lin #geshu lin x reader #wuthering waves x reader #wuthering waves smut #jiyan x reader smut #geshu lin x reader smut #jiyan x reader #wuwa jiyan #wuwa geshu lin #wuwa x reader

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shesnake · 6 months

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“Monkey Man” was shot and completed in 2021, and Netflix soon after acquired the rights for around $30 million, but it’s been on the shelf for three years and they‘ve all of a sudden decided to get rid of it? What gives? It turns out, according to an in-the-know source, that it was the portrayal of a fictional right-wing Hindu Nationalist character in the film that worried Netflix about their future dealings in India. And even though they had paid more than twice the production cost, they decided to give the film back to the producers, which is what caused the long delay. Universal and Peele eventually took a particular liking to the film, so much so that they suggested possible editing changes and delayed the release until what they thought would be the right date. It’s as simple as that. In the end, it was all about politics and optics for the streaming giant, especially since India has become the current top growth market for Netflix. Co-Founder Reed Hastings has mentioned that a majority of the service's next 100 million subscribers would most likely come from India.

Universal/Jordan Peele's "suggested possible editing changes" in question:

#monkey man #dev patel #jordan peele #film #i have to laugh!!!!#also have read some south asian critics on twitter saying the way it's edited renders the politics of the film vague and incomprehensible #i'm still looking forward to it of course but it's just a shame!!

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teddybeartoji · 11 days

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18+ mdni; fem!reader

knight!suguru is more than glad to drop to his knees for his beloved princess.

his rough hands bunch up the skirt of your dress with haste, his pruple eyes blown wide with lust as you try to grab onto his shoulders for support. your knees feel weak, your body shaking with a mixture of excitement and pure adrenaline – this is improper, you shouldn't be doing this.

but oh, how good does it feel.

how good the knight's fingers feel as they dance on your skin, the tips of them ghosting over the soft material of your soaking undergarments. with his face hidden under your skirt, you can only imagine the hungry look he's wearing as they prepare to eat their heart out after a long, tiring day.

you rest against a bookshelf in the dark library, letting the wooden planks press into your upper back, into your soft skin. candlelight flickers across your flustered face, it being the only audience you could ever possibly allow.

what you're doing is risky, it's dangerous – but neither of you can fight the need any longer.

a quiet gasp echoes through the empty library when suguru presses a gentle kiss your core, his fingers tugging on your underwear. he can feel your legs tremble, he can feel the goosebumps on your skin; just like you imagine his expression, suguru does the same – how dark and low your eyes would be, how swollen your pretty lips. he'll get to see it all later, the masterpiece that is your blissed out face after he're done devouring you.

as his tongue lays flat against your needy cunt, the room gets flooded with hushed mewls; taking a hand from suguru's shoulder, you slot it in front of your mouth but the palm does very little to contain the sounds of pleasure that suffocate you. alongside with those, the noises that emit from under your skirt - your body feels as if its on fire.

suguru's hands knead your thighs – the very same hands that have killed, that have taken lives, are now caressing your skin with the utmost care and tenderness the knight could ever possibly muster up. this is his job afterall – to take care and to proctect, in every way imaginable; whether it's him on his knees as they get a taste of the woman they have swore to protect, or it's him dying at the end of a blade for the woman they love – it's the suguru's desire to serve.

he sucks on your clit, he tongues at your folds, drowning in your scent as he pushes you closer to your high with his skilled mouth. your nails dig into his shoulder, with most of your weight now leant against him as your body threatens to go limp, your brain turning into a mush. cries of suguru's name fall from your lips like a waterfall, with the letters coated with sickly sweet honey that reel him deeper and deeper into her core.

the obscene sounds grow louder by the second with suguru now lapping at your cunt like a starved dog, his good manners long forgotten in his clouded mind. there's a whine on the tip of your tongue, a shy and embarrassed one, but suguru doesn't falter even a bit – instead, he moves to raise your thigh up onto his shoulder, the new angle making your eyes roll back into your head with a loud gasp.

with the other hand, suguru guides you to grind against his face, his nose catching your clit with every roll of your hips and all it takes for you to finally let go, is to hear your beloved knight moan into your sopping cunt.

the back of your head meets the wall behind you with a soft thud and your eyes screw themselves shut as your whole body tenses up; you try to close your legs by pressing your thigh into the suguru's face but it's of no use because he simply digs his fingers deeper into your plush flesh and forces them apart again, so he can keep burying his tongue inside you. suguru can't let any of it go to waste – not the moment, not the saccharine slick that fills his mouth.

you clutch onto your knight as he let you ride out the high, your mumbles of 'thank you's' not going unheard in his keen ears.

before he pull away, suguru places one last kiss to your clit, gentlly as ever; his calloused hands glide over your calves and thighs when he places your leg down onto the wooden floor. with his finger hooked under the material of your underwear, he tugs them down instead of up and taps on your foot for you to raise it.

finally poking his head out from under the skirt, both of you need a moment to collect yourselves; completely disheveled, sweaty and fucked out, panting and heaving – your eyes are still heavy with a flicker of something tender inside them.

you watch the knight pocket the ruined undergarments with a kind of sly grin.

for later.

suguru stays there down on his knees, staring up at you like you're the one that hung the stars in the sky. in his head, you did.

when you try to shove his face to escape the wave of embarrassment that's creeping up your throat but when your fingers meet the slick that's covering the entirety of suguru's lower half of his face, you can't help but cringe at yourself.

and suguru falls for you more. deeper, harder.

"can— can i kiss you?"

your words are but a mere whisper, afraid to see the light, but suguru welcomes them with open arms nonetheless. the corners of his lips tug upward, his hands itching to hold her.

"of course, sweetheart."

you hold each other's gaze as he stands, the rhythm of your chests rising and falling matching in pace.

delicate fingers play with the material of suguru's shirt, a certain nervousness flowing through you despite the fact that you've done this many times before. but you always get like this – a bit shy, a bit timid, wishing to nuzzle your face into the his chest to hide from his fond eyes, the attention suddenly too much. it's the effect he has on you. but you still wants the kiss, you still want the love.

so you push through.

suguru's hand raises to his mouth, his eyebrow quirks up when he sees your eyes grow wider. "don't you want me to wipe it off?"

burns, it burns.

your skin burns.

"no..."

and it burns even stronger, even brighter, at the sight of his wolfish grin, shis sharp canines glinting at you inthe soft candlelight.

"no?"

a tease.

a shake of your head.

a searing kiss. a touch of love.

#MEOWINGGGGGGGGGGGG #there might be typos in this actually i was kind of sleepy while writing it so forgive me..#wtf mickey can write #sugu #geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru drabble #geto #jjk geto #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #mihime #hehe

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strwberri-milk · 3 months

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Hi, good morning/ afternoon/ evening. I've probably read all of your work on LnD, and I love them all. If it's not too much, can I request like the boys getting a call/update from MC after a disastrous wanderer attack on the city after not being able to contact them?? If possible, established relationship😅 ... thank you for your time!

im glad you like all my writing for them!! im so aefjaweofaw please give me the next main story update - also theres lots of references/imagery of death so if youre not chill w that i will see you tomorrow [salute] - theres also some very very slight references to their myths!! it feels a little ooc to me but thats bc. i think theyd be a little ooc when faced w a tragedy like this!! i hope you like it anyway <3

Zayne holds his breath every time a new patient is admitted. The hospital is busy with all of the patients that are coming in with the disaster, a mixture of those hanging on and people running up to him because he's the closest doctor in the vicinity to confirm death.

He volunteered himself to do triage because he was convinced that he'd be able to stop you from dying, that if you came in through those doors he'd be able to separate his love for you from the mind that studied all those nights but that's impossible - he only got here because of you.

His mind runs circles around himself, almost separated from his body as he tries to figure out why you weren't there. Hopefully it's because you're fine - you don't need medical attention or the medics on site were enough for you. However, he knows there's an equal chance that it's just because a doctor onsite was able to confirm your death and now you were in some bag, stored away with the others waiting for him to come identify you.

When he finally gets a moment to himself he obsessively checks his phone, praying to something that might take enough pity on him to listen at the very least that you'll call him. Minutes turn to hours as he's called back to work. Silence is a commodity now as he's stuck in the theatre, only able to go home after he's exceeded the legal amount of hours he's allowed to work in one night.

The long turned cold water hits his muscles as his mind wanders in the quiet of his home. You still haven't called - nobody's called. He understands that surely, all of you are busy but he's been there when the calls have had to be made. To hear the sobs on the other side of the phone as a squad captain confirms the death of another hunter as they softly ask if they'd like to see the body. He's also seen the calls when the bodies are far too mangled, a sight that no loved one should have to bear. He's waiting for it, almost falling in his haste to grab his phone once it finally rings.

Your number pops up, the letters of your name taunting him as he tries to answer it. He's about ready to throw his phone on the ground from the water on his hand refusing to make picking up the call an easy feat.

"Hello?" Zayne asks, an uncharacteristic shake in his voice.

"Zayne! I'm okay!" you say, voice sounding a little weak but definitely better than he could have ever anticipated.

"Zayne? Honey? Hello?" you ask when you're met with only silence, now beginning to grow anxious yourself. You knew he must have been busy - you were too - and you thought he was safe. He should have been, you'd heard no reports of the hospital being attacked.

"You're alive," he chokes out, falling to his knees.

"Of course I am! Things have just been chaotic so I haven't had enough time to call you until now," you explain, continuing to talk to him.

You hear rustling on the other side of the phone, trying to get his attention again before he cuts you off.

"Where are you right now? Home?"

"Oh - yeah I'm on leave now. Most of us who were in active duty are to let his recuperate. How come?"

"I'll be there soon."

He hangs up immediately, leaving you a little stunned. You decide to clean up a little, having nothing else to do really until he comes over. Zayne never acts this impulsively so you assume that the day with no contact really wore on him.

Once he arrives you open the door for him, planning to apologise for the lack of contact when he almost throws himself at you. You hold him back just as tightly, a little shaken yourself as you close the door after him. You realise that for whatever reason he's soaking, unsure if you should confront that but you decide to ignore it.

He leads you right to your couch, too exhausted to even find your bedroom as he buries himself against your chest. It's not the normal way he lays with you - typically he likes to hold you - but you know not to bother him now. You can't deny you were worried about him too, knowing he probably put in a bunch of overtime at the hospital.

He holds onto you tightly, measuring out the beat of your heart. It's the only way he can remind himself that you're still alive, that the two of you have one more day together.

Xavier has never felt like he wanted to die more than in this moment. One minute you were running with him, trying to stop the Wanderer from attacking the group of civilians the next you're totally gone. Logically, he knows you're most likely fighting a Wanderer by yourself and you can handle it but somewhere he's convinced you'll die without him at your side. You've proved yourself more than capable but he worries about you all the time - he knows how to fight these things, he's been fighting them for far longer than you have - and if you died here he'd have no more reason for living.

He practically goes beserk, tearing into each and every creature with the hopes that one of them can take him to you. With each failure he starts to spiral, standing atop a pile of rubble as he watches the recovery teams start to spread into the city. It practically took an entire squadron to force him to go home, promising him that he'd be the firs t to hear once they found you.

You were diligently following Xavier when you noticed another Wanderer going after a child. You knew that he'd panic once he couldn't find you but you couldn't just abandon them. You tried to tell him you'd be splitting off but over all the screams and screeches he couldn't hear you and you couldn't waste any more time trying to get his attention.

You were able to defeat the Wanderer but not before sustaining an injury that made it too difficult for you to continue active duty, taking the child to a safe spot and staying with them until help arrived. You ended up passing out from the pain shortly thereafter, waking up a day later to Tara in your face heaving a sigh of relief as she called for a doctor to come check on you.

Your body was simply fatigued and after an extra day of monitoring and ensuring you were receiving everything you needed to make sure you wouldn't collapse again when you get home. You nod, knowing what procedure is at this point. You reach out for your phone once the doctor leaves, knowing that Xavier must be worried out of his mind.

You're right, of course. He's laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as he waits for someone to call him. He saw the scale of disaster this attack was, knows that everything is absolutely awful and he's not the only one waiting for news but every minute that passes is another minute you could be trapped, praying that he's coming there to save you.

He decides to ignore the strict orders he's gotten, suiting up to go help the recovery efforts. He was going bad staying in bed all day, unable to get a wink of sleep as pictures of your suffering flash across his tortured mind. Working on pulling valuables and any remnants of life is depressing on a good day but right now it's downright torturous. He can't help but think that the next thing he pulls out is going to be your hand, severed far from your body.

When his phone rings everything disappears. He quickly picks up, steeling his expression to avoid making things worse should someone look over at him. He doesn't even notice who called him, just hoping that it was someone with news.

"Oh! You picked up fast. Are you just sitting at home then?" you ask casually, so casually he thinks it's almost cruel. How could you act so nonchalant about the fact that you held his life in your hands, that you are the only thing in this world he can bear to wake up for?

"No, I'm helping the recovery efforts despite orders. I...it was too quiet at home," he offers as an explanation and you hum. He can imagine you nodding, tapping your chin as you think to yourself.

"If you missed me you could have just said so," you tease, hoping that the ease in your voice will make him relax.

"Of course I did. Is that even a question? Are you able to take visitors?' You know what, doesn't matter. I'll just wait there until you are. I'll see you soon love."

He hangs up quickly and you know that he'll appear in the hospital within the next two seconds with that uncanny ability of his. You straighten yourself out a little, knowing that you were injured but not wanting to look like a total mess.

You can hear his footsteps running up to your door, slamming it open as he catches his breath. You've never seen him out of breath before - maybe he's much more tired than you initially thought.

"You made it," you laugh, making a slight sound from the impact of him practically jumping at you, holding you tightly as he buries his face into your neck.

"I was worried about you," he says softly, looking up at you. "I thought you'd been hurt, badly. And I wasn't there to protect you."

You sigh, helping him sit down into the chair at your bedside. You offer him your hand which he holds gratefully, never taking his eyes off of you.

"I know. I'm sorry. But look, I'm okay now, aren't I?"

He ignores the pain in his chest, trying not to imagine how heavy your hand would feel in his if you really had drawn your last breath. That weight is far too familiar to him, haunting his every thought in the hours that passed between then and now.

"You are. And I'm going to make sure you stay that way," he promises.

Rafayel didn't even know there was an attack until far after it. He knew you were working and that sometimes, you'd accidentally go MIA. You'd already texted him before your mission anyway and then he got drawn into another project of his and completely lost track of time. It's not until the next day that he finally sees his phone and the message from Thomas telling him not to come into the city for supplies for a day or so.

He immediately starts looking through articles, scouring pages that are constantly updating the death toll in search of your face. He curses himself for not paying attention earlier - every minute he wasted on some stupid was another minute you could have spent at Death's door, all because he allowed himself to forget that nothing matters if it's not you.

It's obsessive the way he looks through all of them, calling your phone non stop all the while. Every time he gets sent to voicemail he feels his breath get knocked out of his lungs, resorting to blowing up your phone with texts. When it's clear you aren't replying he grabs his keys to drive into Linkon despite Thomas' suggestion, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he heads to the hospital.

Even in all the chaos people can't help but stare a little as Rafayel makes his way to the counter, demanding someone tell him where you were. He's really trying not to be a brat, promising you that he'd be nicer to people but when it's your life on the line everything is up for debate. He goes through any and every possibility, figuring out what he can do to guarantee your survival.

Unfortunately for him, he gets escorted out. Jenna tries to calm him down, telling him that he'd be the first to know if they had any updates on you. Right now everything was just far too messy to know anything about anyone and there was a good chance that you were just being treated at a different hospital than usual due to the high causality count. He doesn't take no for an answer and manages to strong arm the name of the other hospitals you could have been sent to, starting up his car again right as his phone lights up with your name.

"What do you think you're doing not answering your phone?!" he yells, making you flinch.

Rafayel's never been mad at you, certainly not to this extent but you know that it's because he's anxious. He immediately catches himself too and you hear it, catching the sound of his hands against his steering wheel as he takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. Just - where are you?" he asks, sounding so exhausted that you feel like crying.

"I'm okay Rafayel," you say instead, adding the name of your hospital. He's immediately driving over as you talk to him, keeping your voice even.

"I was split up from the group is all, then triaged at a different hospital. I'm fine though - I managed to just sprain my wrist from overexertion so I'll have a sling for a bit-"

"You're staying with me then. I'm not having you stay alone with a broken wrist. Knowing you you'd do something dumb and make it worse," he scoffs, trying his best to drive safely to see you again. You don't bother to correct him, knowing that's the least of your worries.

You fall quiet, not sure how to respond. Rafayel has always been good at masking how he feels, rarely showing you what he's hiding behind his mask. Now he's an open book, making it clear that nothing will be okay until he sees you again.

"Okay," you agree, leaning further back into the pillows of your hospital bed. "They wanted me to be released into the care of someone if I could anyway. That's why I was calling you - that, and trying to return all your missed calls."

"Thank you," he says so quietly you barely hear him over the sound of his car.

"Of course my love," you say just as softly. "I knew you'd worry as soon as you saw the news."

Another moment passes between the two of you. Rafayel thinks his heart fell out of his chest - or it would have if it was still his to hold. Instead, it's beating firmly in your palm, only able to do so under your affections.

"Rafayel, I'm really fine, I promise. I'm just hungry. Let's get something for dinner, yeah?" you offer, hoping to redirect his energy.

"Yeah," he replies, exhaling deeply.

"Anything you want my beloved. Just name it and it's yours."

1K notes · View notes

soaps-mohawk · 5 months

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go

Summary: Things have gone wrong in your pack's absence. Can they make it back in time before irreparable damage is done? Can they fix the damage that's already been dealt?

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 10,232...oops

Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, panic attacks, very descriptive scenes of panic and anxiety, very heavy emotionally in the beginning, major invasions of privacy, hurt/sort of comfort, very brief mention of violence and death, and most importantly: fluff

A/N: Yeah, so this one kind of got away from me. It's definitely one of my favorite chapters now, and it's definitely the longest so far. It's pretty heavy, so plan something fun afterwards because it will hurt. I tried to catch all the possible triggers, but of course, if I miss one let me know. I promise things will begin to take a turn for the happier after this, at least for a bit. Picks up pretty much right where chapter 17 left off.

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You’re shaking. Your breaths are coming in gasps as you stare at your open door. There’s no scent in the air, nothing that would give you a hint of who invaded your space, or if they’re still in there. You should leave, barricade yourself somewhere and call Dr. Keller, or even Kate.

What could they do, though? Your pack won’t be home until tomorrow at the earliest.

No one can help you.

You slowly push your door open, ready to run in case someone is hiding inside. You stand in the doorway, scanning the small space, but there’s no sign of anyone. There’s still no scent either, just your own mingled with the slight chemical burn of scent blockers. Your eyes scan the room, looking for anything that might be new, anything that might be missing, anything that might be slightly out of place.

The clothes on the floor are slightly rumpled, but you’re not sure if you did that in your haste to pull on shoes before you left, or if they’ve been that way since the knock sounded on your door. You lift your gaze to the ceiling, scanning it and that’s when you notice it. The cover over the vent is slightly out of place. You likely wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been paying attention, if you hadn’t looked.

The thought sends a chill running down your spine.

You keep your eyes on the vent as you grab your desk chair, kicking clothes out of the way as you move it under the vent. You stand on the chair, reaching for the vent, but it’s not quite enough. You shove the chair to the side, taking everything off your desk before you pull it under the vent. You climb up on shaky legs, your heart thudding in your chest as you remove the vent cover.

Nausea twists at your stomach as your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp. There, strategically placed between two of the gaps in the vent cover, is a camera. It’s small, and would have been invisible just staring at the vent from below. You feel like you might be sick as you pull it free from the vent cover, staring down into the tiny lens.

How long has it been up there?

You drop the camera onto your desk, your fingers shaking and trembling as you feel along the edges of the vent, checking for anything else that might be hiding up there. You replace the cover after you find nothing, a sense of dread filling you.

Had the guys put it up so they could watch you, make sure that you’re safe? Had they put it up there before you arrived? You think about all the times you’ve changed in your room, your heat.

You climb down from the desk, tugging it further towards the center of the room before you climb back up, unscrewing the cover off the light. You check the bulb, looking for any cameras or recording devices. You screw the cover of the light back on after finding none, a quiet sob leaving your lips as you look around your room.

You close the door and lock it before you begin your search, checking every corner and piece of furniture for cameras or recording devices. You empty the dresser and closet, checking every drawer and corner for anything suspicious.

You pull recording devices from under your desk and the back of your nightstand, the adhesive still fresh enough they pop right off. A cold sweat has overtaken you as you find another recording device and another camera, adding them to the growing pile on your desk.

A quiet sob of fear leaves your lips as you check the bathroom, tearing your room apart to check every inch. You search up a tutorial on YouTube, using your phone to check for more possible cameras that you might have missed.

You stare down at the pile of cameras and recording devices on your desk. Someone entered your room and planted them while you were with General Shepherd. It had all been deliberate. Get you away from your room and distracted so they could enter and set up the devices. You wonder if it’s all part of some sick plan, some way to ensure things are going well with your pack. General Shepherd had been very interested in your mark, invading your space without a moment of hesitation to see it firsthand. You would have shown him, had he asked to see it. Instead he’d just done it himself, as if it was nothing.

Your hands are shaking as you find a ziploc bag in the mess you’ve made of your room, putting the cameras and recording devices into it. You drop it onto the floor before stepping on it, listening to the crack of metal and plastic and glass under your shoe. Tears slip down your cheeks as you pick up the bag of broken pieces, taking it to the bathroom. You hide it far in the back of the cupboard beneath the sink, piling things around it and on top of it to keep it hidden.

You stand in the doorway of the bathroom, your skin crawling as you stare at the mess. You don’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own space. The thought of someone breaching the sacred space, entering your room without a second thought to put up cameras makes your stomach churn.

Where will you go? You can’t just leave, find somewhere else to feel safe. What if they did the same to the guys’ rooms? There could have been an entire team of people that came in and put cameras up all over the barracks. A sob leaves your lips as you rush to the door, double checking it’s locked before you shove the dresser against it. You flip your desk up to cover the window as much as it can, just in case anyone tries to climb in.

You sink to the floor in the middle of the disaster that has become your room, sobbing quietly. You want your pack home, you want to feel safe again. You glance at your phone where it’s sitting on a pile of shirts, afraid to even touch it. That woman could have done anything to it while you were with General Shepherd. What if they’re trying to call you and they can’t reach you?

You should try to reach Dr. Keller, tell her what happened, get her to check if there’s anyone lurking around the barracks that shouldn’t be. What if they try to attack her, though? Can she defend herself? You don’t know if she can fight or not. What if she gets hurt because of you? She could ask someone else on base to look, but what if they were involved in it? What if it was someone already on base that had done it? The thought nearly makes you sick.

You’re scared to leave again. What if they’ve noticed you found the cameras and come back while you’re gone? What if they come back while you’re here?

The tears flow freely as you sob, too afraid to even move. You can feel it, the panic starting to bubble up again, the fear welling inside you. Your muscles begin to tense, shoulders pulling up near your ears as you try to defend yourself from this invisible threat. It’s an easy slope from fear to distress, and there’s no one to help you if you start distressing. You press your palms into your eyes, holding your breath to try and shock your body into something other than panic.

You bite back a startled scream as a knock sounds at the door, your heart rate spiking again.

“It’s just me,” Dr. Keller’s voice sounds through the door. “Ready for dinner?”

You take a deep breath, staring at the dresser blocking your door. You’ll have to move it to get out, which she’ll likely notice. You could lie, you could lie easily, but you’re not sure you could keep it up right now. She’ll notice the tears, the obvious signs of panic and distress. She’ll want to know, and you can’t trust yourself not to spill everything.

You should tell her about what had happened, but you know she’ll be disappointed. She’ll think you were stupid for leaving, for not even sending her a text. She’ll tell John when he returns, too. He should know about it, but there’s no way a high ranking General could arrive on base without them knowing, especially one that’s their commander. Maybe it had all been a test. Maybe they do know about General Shepherd and just forgot to tell you this was going to happen.

Maybe Dr. Keller even knew about it, and didn’t say anything because she thought you knew too.

“I-I’m not hungry.” You say, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

There’s a pause outside the door for a moment, a beat of silence that’s too loud.

“Is everything alright?” She finally asks.

“Y-Yeah.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just...not really hungry right now.”

It’s silent again for a beat, making you hold your breath anxiously.

“Are you sure? I can come back later, or bring you dinner.” She says.

“I’m sure.” You swallow the tears welling in your eyes again. “I’ll grab a snack if I get hungry later.”

“Okay...” She says, and you can almost see the frown on her face. “Text or call if you need anything, alright?”

“Yeah.” You say, your voice cracking a bit.

You regret it almost instantly, the urge to shove the dresser out of the way and fling the door open strong as you hear her receding steps down the hallway. You don’t want to be alone, but Dr. Keller can’t give you what you need. The tears start falling again, sliding down your cheeks as you flop onto your back, ignoring the way the edge of a book digs into your spine.

You just want your pack back. You want John to scoop you up into his arms and wrap you in his warmth and soothing scent. You want Kyle and Johnny to squish you between them, sandwich you so tightly you’re scared you might burst. You want Ghost to wrap himself around you and offer you a blanket of protection against anyone who would even dare cast a glance in your direction.

You just want to feel at home again.

You want to be safe again.

***

The emotional and physical exhaustion pushes you into the state between consciousness and sleep. You’ve moved to your bed, tucked under the covers and stuck between the wall and your giant bear, as if it could offer you some form of protection as you float between awareness and somewhere in the realm of sleep for a few hours.

You’re not sure what time it is, when the disruption comes. It takes you a moment to register why you’re awake. Some deep part of your brain is prickling, sending out warning signals to your body. Something’s happening, something’s wrong, something’s posing a threat.

You hold your breath in the silence of the barracks, listening to the slow, quiet footsteps making their way down the hall. For a moment you think you might be imagining them, that you’re still asleep and dreaming. Your fingers pinch at your skin, nails digging in to confirm that you are, in fact, awake. This is really happening.

Your heartbeat picks up, the bitter stench of fear that’s coated your room intensifying as the footsteps pause outside your door. You let out a quiet, shaky breath as you lay there, thinking up every time you checked the door in the last few hours to ensure it was locked and the dresser was still pushed in front of it.

You cover your mouth as the door handle wiggles, catching on the lock. The whimper of fear threatening to rise catches in your throat as you hold your breath, your body trembling under your blankets. You should reach for your phone, send a text to Kate, call Dr. Keller, do something. Yet, you’re frozen in fear as the handle continues to wiggle before stopping.

You don’t release a breath until the footsteps fade, a quiet whimper slipping from your lips. Someone just tried to get into your room.

You’re panicking, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you burrow under your covers, barricading yourself between the wall and your bear, hoping you’ll be invisible in case they come back, in case they force their way in. You can’t fight, not after the day you’ve had. The best you can hope for is that your scent is rank enough in the room it’ll deter whoever is trying to get in.

You need tomorrow to come, and fast.

***

Daylight doesn't bring any sense of comfort.

All it does is shed more light on the disaster your room has become, the physical representation of your internal thoughts and feelings. Your face feels puffy from crying, and there’s a bad taste in your mouth. You haven’t brushed your teeth since yesterday, nor have you showered, too scared to put yourself in such a vulnerable position.

You glance at your phone, checking for missed calls, but there’s none. Dr. Keller will be by soon to get you for breakfast, but you’re not sure you can stand going to the mess. The idea of leaving your room, leaving it empty so anyone could just walk in and bug it or touch your things or hide out so they can take revenge on you for finding and destroying their cameras and recording devices has you paralyzed.

That must have been what whoever entered the barracks last night had come to do. Maybe they thought you’d spend the night in one of the other rooms and they’d come to replace them. Or, maybe they wanted you to be in your room. Maybe that was the plan all along.

The thought sends a chill running down your spine.

You burrow back under your blankets, curling up against your giant teddy bear. You wish it was Price, that his arm would wrap around you and hold you close, keep you safe and protected in his arms. You’d take any of them right now, even Ghost. At least you know he’d protect you, especially if someone tried to enter the barracks without permission.

You’re still lying there when Dr. Keller arrives. You stare at the dresser still pushed against the door, keeping you from opening it. Not that you really want to. You can’t stop the anxiety from taking over, bringing forward the image of Dr. Keller held at gunpoint on the other side of the door, trying to trick you into opening it so whoever tried to get in last night can finally do what they came to do.

You know it’s a ridiculous thought. No one would be that stupid in broad daylight, and you doubt Dr. Keller would let something like that happen to her. She’d put up a fight, or at least you hope so.

You can’t move the dresser without her knowing you’d pushed it against the door, which will only prompt questions. Questions you don’t want to answer.

She calls your name through the door, concern lacing her voice. “Everything alright?”

No. You want to scream it, tears gathering in your eyes again. You want to push the dresser out of the way, throw open the door and confess everything that’s happened in the last few hours to her. You want to bring her into your space, keep her there until your pack returns so you can feel even just an ounce of safety.

But what if she gets mad?

Leaving yesterday was stupid. Going off with some unknown beta without telling anyone was the dumbest thing you’ve done since your arrival on base. She’ll be disappointed and she’ll tell your pack and they’ll be disappointed that you didn’t say anything to her about it. Even if they knew it happened, they’d still be disappointed that you didn’t think to even question it, that you didn’t think to let Dr. Keller know what was going on.

You made a stupid decision, and you won’t be able to take their disappointment and anger. Not after everything.

“Yeah.” You call out, your voice shaking. “I-I’m alright.”

You can tell she doesn’t believe you, even though you can’t see her. She probably has that look on her face she gets when she knows you’re not telling the whole truth. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. You’re afraid it might give out after the stress of the last few days.

“Are you ready for breakfast?” She finally asks, likely giving up on trying to get any more details from you.

You’re not hungry, and you know going to the mess will not end well. The risk of distressing is high, and the thought that any one in the mess might have been the intruder last night nearly sends you over the edge. One wrong glance in your direction might cause you to do something reckless. “I’m not hungry.” You finally say, pulling the blankets tighter around you.

“Are you sure?” She asks. “Did you eat something last night?”

“Yeah.” You lie, trying to keep your voice from breaking. “I had some snacks.”

Her feet shuffle outside the door for a moment, and you can almost hear her sigh. “If you’re sure?”

“I-I’m sure.” You reply.

There’s a moment of silence before you get a response, your breath catching in your throat from the nerves. “Alright.” She finally says. “I got word that your pack will be landing in a couple of hours and we have permission to go out to the airfield and greet them. I’ll come back to get you when it’s time. If you need anything, call me.”

You listen to her footsteps recede down the hallway, tears burning your eyes. You hate lying. You feel bad for keeping the truth from her, but the shame of revealing what you did is too strong.

You hastily wipe your eyes, staring at the mess on your floor. You need to get your room back to at least its somewhat normal state, and you need to put yourself back to your normal state as well. If anyone gets any hint that something is wrong, you might crack, and you’re not sure you could handle the repercussions.

You start with the desk, flipping it back the way it’s supposed to be and positioning it as close to where it was as you can get. You collect the books and other little things that go on it, trying to arrange it as close to how it normally is. You know they’ll notice if any little thing is out of place, if anything looks suspicious. You can blame some of it on cleaning, if they ask. You did some deep cleaning while they were away. That’s one way of putting it.

You push the dresser back into place next, putting the drawers back in before starting on the clothes, putting everything back where it belongs. You make your bed last, the urge to nest gone completely. You’re shaking with exhaustion by the time you finish, tempted to crawl back into bed, but you know you can’t. Your pack is coming back, and you need everything to look like it’s fine still.

They’ll notice. They’ll see it, and they’ll ask, and you’ll have to spill everything and face the shame and anger from being so stupid.

Tears burn your eyes as you slip your desk chair under the door handle, making sure it’s secure before heading to the shower to get ready for your pack’s imminent return. You shower with the door open, getting done quickly to avoid being vulnerable for long. You try to make yourself look as decent as possible, ignoring the fact that there’s broken cameras and recording devices hidden under the sink. Eventually you’ll forget. Eventually it’ll fade from your mind and become nothing more than a forgotten nightmare.

One of many.

You toss your pajamas on the floor haphazardly, just to make things look more normal. You know if it’s too clean, that might raise some suspicions as well. You don’t want to give away that something happened, you don’t want to raise any suspicions. You just want things to go back to normal. You want your pack back, and you want to feel safe again.

At least, until they have to leave again.

You sink to the floor, leaning up against your bed as you wait for Dr. Keller to take you to greet your pack when they return.

***

Every minute seems to drag on infinitely as you stare across the tarmac. They’ll be landing any minute. Any minute now the nightmare will be over and you’ll get to see your pack again after days of being apart. Finally, maybe, you can begin to feel safe again.

You watch the plane as it comes in to land, your hands already trembling in anticipation. There’s a twisting in your stomach, you’re not sure if it’s worry or fear or excitement. They’re so close, so close you can almost smell them. Your omega is scratching at the back of your brain, your muscles twitching as the ramp begins to lower on the plane. You need to see them, you need to smell them, you need to ensure they’re alright.

You can’t stop yourself. As soon as their boots hit the tarmac, you’re running. You don’t care if you’re breaking rules, you don’t care if the other soldiers get worried, or see you as a possible threat, you need to be in your alpha’s arms again.

John grunts from the force of you hitting him, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You throw your arms around him, clinging to him as tight as you can. You’re whimpering, the quiet sounds dragging from your lips but you don’t care. You press your face into his chest, breathing him in. He smells like sweat and musk, the sharp metallic tang of gunpowder burning your nose. Yet, underneath it all, you can make out the earthy scent, the petrichor going straight to your brain.

His arms wrap tight around you, squishing you up against his chest. His vest digs into your skin, but you don’t care. You can’t feel much of anything but relief. His breath fans your forehead as he leans down, his hand cupping the back of your head. He shushes you gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Tears fill your eyes as you cling to him, fingers gripping his shirt tightly like you’re afraid he might disappear again. If it wasn’t for the pain in your chest, you might have thought this was all a dream, that they might disappear suddenly and you’ll wake up alone again.

“Easy.” John rumbles, gently stroking the back of your head.

You cling to him tighter as his hand gets close to your neck, the thought of General Shepherd’s hand being so close to your neck where he could scruff you so easily making your insides squirm.

He’s gone. He’s gone and your pack is here.

“You’re alright.” John tries to reassure you, squeezing his arms around your trembling form. “I’ve got you.”

You keep your face pressed against his chest, breathing him in, trying to get his scent to calm the raging storm within you. Your omega is still scratching at the back of your mind, a deep need to claw your way under John’s skin and into his body pushing at the front of your mind. You won’t be safe until you’ve been utterly consumed by him, until you’re safely tucked where no one can hurt you without going through him first.

“Alpha,” You whine quietly, nuzzling your face against his chest. His clothes are in the way, a barrier against what you need. To feel him, to smell him fully again.

“Easy.” He says, grabbing your hands as they shift towards the velcro straps of his tactical vest. “Let’s get back to the barracks first before we start that, sweetheart.”

You don’t want to go back to the barracks. It’s not safe anymore. What if there’s someone waiting there for you to return? What if they get hurt because you don’t tell them what happened? What if you get hurt and cause them pain?

“You’re alright.” John says, stroking the back of your head as he begins to ease your grip on him. “There’s a couple of muppets here who I think would like to greet you too.”

Right. You’re so caught up in your alpha, you forgot the rest of your pack. You slowly allow yourself to be peeled away from John, Kyle right there to let you cling to him.

And so you do.

Your grip around him is just as tight, ignoring the uncomfortable ridges of his own vest. He holds you just as tightly, projecting his scent just a bit to try and calm you. Someone presses against your back, arms wrapping around both you and Kyle. The scent of citrus lined with beta invades your nose, Johnny squishing you into a sandwich between them. Your eyes squeeze shut as citrus and salty sea air blend together, the beta’s scents reaching deep into your brain to try and ease some of the tension in your body.

They’re back. They’re safe. You’re safe.

Now you just have to convince yourself of that fact.

***

“How was she?” John asks as he approaches Dr. Keller.

“Held it together longer than I thought she would.” She says. “Things took a turn yesterday afternoon. Shut herself in her room and wouldn’t come out. I don’t think she’s eaten anything since lunch yesterday either.”

“We’ll get some food in her.” John says. “Thank you, for looking after her for us.”

“Well, it is partly my job.” Dr. Keller shrugs. “Always happy to do it.”

“Things will get easier, won’t they?” He asks.

“Eventually. She’ll learn what coping mechanisms help and she’ll adapt.”

“Hopefully at least one of us will be able to stay moving forward. I don’t like leaving her here alone.” He grimaces.

“Separation is hard no matter what, especially with limited contact, on all parties involved.” She gives him a look. “I think the best thing you can do right now is just be together as a pack. Let those bonds heal and let her do what she needs.”

“Thank you, doctor.” John says, shaking her hand.

“Call me, if you need anything, as usual.” Dr. Keller says, watching his retreating back before getting into her car to make the short drive back to the medical center.

John gets into the car waiting to take them back to the barracks, sitting next to Kyle who’s holding you straddling his lap, your face pressed into his neck. “That looks safe.” He remarks, even though they wouldn’t be going very fast, or very far.

“Couldn’t get her to let go.” Kyle says, tightening his hold around you as the car begins moving.

“You’re alright, sweetheart.” John says, rubbing your back gently.

You turn your face to look at him, your eyes red from the numerous tears you’ve already shed, and the ones still trailing down your face. The guilt nearly makes him sick as he stares at you, feeling the slight tremble still from where his hand rests against your back.

He’d never say it out loud, but he hates the fact they had to leave you, all four of them at once too. He’d fought, argued. He and Simon could have handled it on their own, even him and the two Sergeants would have been sufficient. Anything not to leave you by yourself during their first deployment.

Despite his attempts, General Shepherd had been insistent that all four of them were necessary for this particular task.

So, he had been forced to leave you behind on your own. It’s gone about as well as he expected, from the looks of it. He knew the separation would get to you eventually. The stress would grow to be too much. Every day he anticipated the news to come from Kate that you had distressed and your omega had taken over because he wasn’t there to help you.

Every day he waited for the news that they’d lost you because the brass that put this initiative into place couldn’t understand why taking them all at once was a bad idea.

Or maybe that was their plan all along.

He couldn’t stop the conspiratorial thoughts running through his head as their mission dragged on. What if they were doing this on purpose? It wouldn’t be that strange to push the boundaries of what could be tolerated for the purpose of testing just how effective the initiative really could be. But pushing it like that so soon? Sure, he could rationalize it was possible. War could break out at any moment, which would require most military members to leave, to be separated from their packs for months or even years. His own team could be called out at any time for months working to eliminate a target and stop war from breaking out.

Yet, he can’t help but feel there was something more, something deeper going on. What if they had called away for more nefarious reasons? What if getting you alone had been the reason behind General Shepherd’s insistence that all four of them were necessary for this particular task? He had refused to entertain those dark thoughts for too long, the fear of leaving you alone already itching in the back of his mind from the moment they boarded the plane to leave.

He hadn’t been able to hide his relief at hearing your voice on the phone. Though you had sounded upset, and rightfully so, his worries had been lessened in knowing you were alright. You would tell them if something had happened. He knows you wouldn’t keep something that serious a secret. If someone had hurt you, or had tried to hurt you, you would tell one of them.

Even though he trusts you, he does plan to speak to Dr. Keller more in depth later to ensure everything went as fine as she seemed to imply it did. Obviously their absence has been hard on you, but he needs to make sure you really will be alright, that you will be able to come back from the obvious distress this has caused you.

***

You finally release your constricting hold on Kyle as the car pulls up outside the barracks. Even with them back, it still doesn't feel like home anymore, not after such sacred space was invaded so easily, so nonchalantly. Kyle climbs out of the car, setting you on your feet on the ground. You look between him and John, realizing Ghost and Johnny are still in the car. Your stomach falls as you realize what they're about to say, tears gathering in your eyes again.

“We still have some things we need to do.” John says, reaching towards you.

You have the momentary urge to flinch from his touch, but you let his hand cup your cheek. “You're leaving me again.” You say, your voice breaking.

John almost looks guilty. He almost looks upset by your visible turmoil. His hand drops from your cheek to your back, turning you towards the barracks. Your stomach twists as he guides you inside, the fear of someone being inside spiking. You know you're safe with John, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but you'd have to play dumb if they did catch someone inside. You’d have to act like you didn’t know someone had entered before, like you had been unaware of anything going on. That might almost be worse than telling them the truth.

You inhale as he stops in front of your door, still closed from when you'd left with Dr. Keller. There's no chemical burn of scent blockers, just your scent in the air, and John's scent coming off him as he stands next to you.

“We won't be long. Maybe an hour at most, and we'll only be across base. We'll come back and we can get lunch before our afternoon meeting. Then we'll just have reports to do, and you can sit in my office while I work on those, okay?” He says.

Your brows pinch as you try to hold in your tears. You want to tell him, you want to reveal what happened, beg him not to leave you alone here again, but you can't. You can't face that shame, the disappointment you know he'll show on his face at the knowledge that you let that happen. You willingly left with a stranger without telling anyone. You let someone invade your pack's space so easily. They were gone for a week and you screwed everything up.

“Tomorrow we'll spend the day together. All of us. I promise.” He says wiping the tear that slides down your cheek.

Even though they're back, you still don't have them.

You inhale shakily before nodding. “Yeah. Fine.”

John's thumb brushes your cheek for a moment before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You watch his back retreat as he leaves the barracks, leaving you alone again. You think back to when they’d left you, watching his back as he boarded the plane to be taken from you. You stare at the door as the cars drive off, a cold chill running down your spine. What if General Shepherd is still here? What if they're going to meet with him? What if he tells them he met with you while they were gone and they had no idea?

Maybe you should have been honest with them from the start.

You stare at your closed door, your hands shaking. What if there's someone inside? What if someone is waiting to take their revenge for you destroying the cameras. What if they put new ones up?

You should have opened the door while Price was here so you could have at least screamed when someone would hear you. You back away from your door slowly, deciding to wait in the rec room. At least there you might have a chance. You could break a window and run, or at least have a higher chance of making it to a door.

Would anyone help you? Would anyone come if you screamed? What if they’re all in on it?

You're shaking as you sink onto the couch, sitting so you can see into the hallway. You want to see them coming so you can prepare yourself, or at least give yourself a chance to make an escape before it’s too late.

You run through all the things Ghost has taught you in your head as you sit and wait, the minutes dragging by painfully slow. You can feel every second, though that may just be the anxiety and fear pulsing within you. You wish you could sleep, you wish you could relax, you wish you could do anything to make the time go by faster, but yet you remain hypervigilant, staring so hard you flinch at every little shadow your brain convinces you is moving.

You’re not sure how long you sit there, tense and coiled, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. It can’t be more than an hour as John promised, yet it feels like a lifetime before you hear movement.

You hold your breath as the barracks door opens, boots thudding with every footstep coming down the hall. You nearly whimper when a figure rounds the corner, before you let out a sigh of relief.

“Ready for lunch, kitten?” Johnny asks, standing in the doorway of the rec room.

You swallow the lump in your throat, your hands still clenched into fists. You're breathing hard, your entire body tense. You know you're reaching dangerous territory. Any more panic, you may start distressing. What a welcome home for them, coming back to a distressed omega. They're probably exhausted, and here you are making a scene.

Hands close around yours. Warm, calloused hands apply gentle pressure, slowly uncurling your fingers. Your hands are shaking, trembling just slightly.

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, kneeling in front of you. When he moved, you're not sure.

“I-I'm not...” You start, your voice shaking.

“Ye need tae eat.” He counters, as if he had read your mind, expected the answer.

He's right. You're beginning to feel it gnawing in your stomach, something deeper than the anxiety. With all the stressing you've been doing, you know you need to eat something. Being hungry is not helping that any, either.

“I don't want to go to the mess.” You say quickly, the words almost mushing together incoherently. “Too much.”

Johnny sits back, staring at you for a moment before nodding in understanding. “Alright. That's fair. I'll let the lads know.”

He stands up, leaving you alone in the rec room again. You listen to his footsteps fade, the door opening and closing for a moment. You hold your breath, practically on the edge of your seat. There's no reason they would make you go to the mess. You've eaten in the barracks many times before.

You blame your worry on your hunger. You know omegas don't do well when hungry. Omegas don't do well being uncomfortable in general.

Saying these last few days have been uncomfortable for you is a bit of an oversimplification.

Footsteps echo down the hallway, a familiar hulking figure approaching the rec room. You never thought there would come a time when you would feel relief upon seeing Ghost. Yet here you are, the tension easing from your shoulders as he steps into the rec room.

“They're grabbing us food.” He says, moving to sit in his usual spot in the chair facing the door. He sighs as he sinks into the cushions, and you can only imagine how tired he must be.

And here you are making things worse.

“You're stressed.” He says, staring at you. His eyes are still painted black beneath his mask, adding to the eerie vibe coming off of him. You're beginning to understand why they call him Ghost. “Stinking up the barracks.” He says, pulling out his phone.

“Oh.” You say quietly, sinking in on yourself as you sit there. “Sorry.”

You pick nervously at your sweatshirt as you wait for the others to return, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as they enter the rec room, food in hand.

Johnny sits you on his lap as you eat, making sure you get your fill, likely aware that you haven't eaten yet today thanks to Dr. Keller telling on you. It's quiet in the room as everyone eats, even the TV off. They all look tired and tense, and you can only imagine what happened during their time away. The things they did, the things they saw. You wonder how much blood is on their hands now, hands that have touched you, hands that are holding you.

They can just go off and kill people and come back and act like nothing has happened.

You could almost laugh at how psychotic it all sounds.

This is your life now. This is your new normal.

“We have a quick meeting. Shouldn't take too long.” John says as they stand, Johnny placing you gently on your feet.

You tug at your sweatshirt, avoiding his gaze. They're leaving you again. They won't be far this time, but still. You just want to curl up in bed with them and lay there until you feel safe again.

Tomorrow, John had said. Tomorrow they will be yours.

It might have been easier if you hadn't been told they were coming home until tomorrow.

***

You tense under the blanket as the door closes, quiet footsteps approaching your position on the couch. There's a quiet sigh as a figure drops to a knee in front of you, their figure visible as a shadow beneath the blanket.

“Can you breathe under there?”

You slowly lower the blanket just enough to peek over the top of it. John is kneeling next to the couch, his brows furrowed in a frown. You're in his office, having shut yourself in there while they went into the meeting. John had made you swear not to go snooping as he’d let you inside. You had promised, as you still feel no desire to dig through the likely classified files that were locked in the cabinets and on his computer. Instead you had parked yourself on his couch, burrowing under a blanket that smelled faintly of petrichor and tobacco smoke.

“There she is.” He says as you peek above the blanket, gently running a hand over the top of your head. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?”

“You left me.” You say quietly, trying not to burst into tears and confess everything.

“I know.” He says, wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. “But we came back, just like we promised.”

He is right in that regard, yet you can’t help the tears as they slide down your cheeks. The ache in your chest that had started to build over the last few days is still present despite their return. Everything is wrong. They feel too far away, too distant. Nothing is safe anymore, nothing is sacred, and they’re just acting like everything is back to normal.

“Would you like to kneel for me?” He asks, his thumb stroking your cheek.

You’re tempted to say no. For the first time you feel wary of your alpha. What kinds of things would you admit in your dazed state? If he questioned you, would you give him enough to put together that something had happened and you’ve been trying to hide it from him? Maybe it would help, though. It would at least ease some of the tension that’s built up. Maybe it could pull you back from the edge of distress you’ve been dangling over for almost two days. Maybe he’ll accidentally scruff you and you can forget the whole thing happened.

The dark thought sends a chill down your spine.

“Okay.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit.

John offers you a hand, helping you up off the couch. You don't want to let go of his hand, you don't want to be parted from him. The omega in the back of your mind is screaming at you to get close to him and stay there for the rest of time. If he leaves you again...you're not sure you can handle it.

He settles in his desk chair, getting everything he needs ready. He'll work on his reports while you kneel, a familiar position, a familiar situation. You've done this before several times. You're not sure why you're suddenly nervous.

You set the pillow down, dropping to your knees beside him. The chair creaks as he shifts slightly, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. You fight the urge to flinch, to move away as he gently strokes his hand over your hair. You've done this before, he's done this before. You're not sure why your heart is thudding in your chest.

His hand slowly moves lower, slipping closer and closer to your neck. You can't help it as your shoulders come up, preventing him from gripping the back of your neck. He moves his hand away as you get defensive, his chair turning slightly as he leans down.

“It's alright, sweetheart. It's just me.” He soothes you, his hand returning to the top of your head. “I know it's been a while, but I promise I remember what to do.”

“Sorry, sorry.” You gasp out, trying to relax. “I don't...I don't know...”

You do know. Your brain keeps flashing back to General Shepherd, his hand tugging down your collar, so close to your neck. How easily he could have scruffed you, if he'd wanted to. You would have known if he had, but he could have done anything to you during the time he had control.

“You're stressed, all worked up.” John says, still stroking the top of your head, trying to soothe you. “It's been a long week for all of us. It was a risk, sending all four of us at once. A stupid risk that shouldn't have been taken.”

You're pulled from your emotional state at the slight hint of anger in his voice. It hadn't taken you long to figure out they likely were all sent in order to get you alone. It would have been impossible to get you out of the barracks and put cameras up with even one of them here. Did he know about Shepherd's visit? Had he put two and two together and figured out they sent all four of them on purpose? You figured he'd be angrier if he knew about what you did, about what they did to you. He would be blazing a path straight to General Shepherd if your alpha knew he got so close to you, put you in that kind of situation.

At least, you hope he would. There’s still that fear in the back of your mind, that worry that it was all a test and you’ve failed. Would they send you back to the institute? Would they break the bonds and send you to a different pack? Would they send you out on your own, leaving you to fend for yourself until some other alpha crossed your path and decided you were worth it? Does he know you’re lying to him, hiding the truth of what happened while he was away? Is he waiting for you to confess, biding his time to see how long you try to hide it?

You want to tell him. You really do, but you can't bring yourself to get the words out. You can't bring yourself to confess here on your knees before your alpha. You feel guilty, like a sinner, yet the shame keeps the words trapped inside.

He continues to soothe you, sliding his hand further down until he reaches your neck. You force yourself to relax, knowing you need this. You need your alpha to take control. You need him to ease the heavy weight on your shoulders, even if he doesn't know what he's lifting.

You close your eyes as his fingers press into your neck, your brain quieting to a hum as you begin to slip into the back of your mind. You feel the rush of endorphins as your brain begins to calm itself, quieting the storm that's been raging for almost a week. You begin to go numb, relaxing into John's hold as he eases you into a quiet, meditative state. He begins to work on his reports as he holds you, your mind floating off somewhere else, somewhere safer where no one can break in and hurt you, somewhere where the barracks are still secure and safe and your pack never left.

Somewhere where there's no initiative, and your pack picked you because they wanted you, because you were a good omega who did as she was told and didn't make stupid mistakes that put everyone in danger.

The last of the tension leaves your body, your mind distant from the present moment. You're safe with your alpha. He'd never let anything happen to you. None of your pack would let anything happen to you.

The thought continues to repeat in your head like a mantra as you relax, held up by the strong pillar that is your alpha.

***

“Report's done, Captain.” Kyle says, placing the stack of papers on John's desk.

“Thanks.” John sighs, grabbing them.

Kyle turns to look at you, fast asleep on the couch. “You want me to take her?” He asks, the formality easing between them as they settle into being a pack and not a task force on duty anymore.

John stares at you, curled up on his lumpy old couch. It’s getting late, or at least it feels that way. You’ve been out, sleeping peacefully on his couch since he eased you out of your kneeling position. You’d clung to him tightly, and for a moment he’d considered holding you, letting you sit with him as you dozed, but he knows he can’t risk you seeing something you shouldn’t. So he’d eased you onto the couch, having to peel your hands away from his shirt. He’d nearly given up and let you keep hold of his shirt before you finally relaxed and released him.

“Would probably be more comfortable.” He rubs his eyes, feeling the call of sleep himself. He wonders how much you managed to sleep while they were gone. You look tired, though you’ve been looking tired since your heat ended. He needs to rest himself, but he wants to get these reports done so he can keep his promise for tomorrow. “I'll be in there soon.”

“Don't work too hard.” Kyle says, moving to lift you off the couch.

“No promises.”

Kyle shakes his head before scooping you up off the couch, blanket and all. You’re still sound asleep as he carries you, pausing in the hallway for a moment. He had just been instinctually going to his room, but would you be more comfortable in your own room? You probably have spent the last week shut inside your space. It might be nice to spend some time somewhere else.

He takes you into his room, laying you on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. He needs to shower and throw his clothes in the wash, but he doesn’t want to leave you and risk you waking up without someone there. You’re sleeping deeply, though, not even stirring as he tucks the blanket up higher around you. He doesn't want to crawl into bed smelling like gunpowder and sweat. That might throw you off too.

He takes the risk, knowing he can do both tasks quickly. No more than twenty minutes to get himself clean and his dirty clothes in the wash, as he prays you stay asleep and won't start panicking if you wake in a strange place. He had sensed how close you had been to distress, how tense you had been when he held you in the car. It’s been a hard week for you, even harder than it had been for them.

He breathes out a quiet sigh of relief as he finds you still asleep when he returns to his room. You haven't moved at all, still tucked under the blanket from John's office. He gets himself changed and moisturized, rubbing some cream on the bruises that dot his skin. He's going to be sore tomorrow, they all will be, but he knows they won't be doing much. John had already told them tomorrow will be dedicated to spending time with you and helping you recover from the stress of them being gone. He’s silently glad for the break, knowing it could only be a few days before they get called out again.

John had also told him he’d be pushing harder for one of them to stay whenever he can. He’s not taking this risk again, not if it can be avoided.

Kyle’s pulling on his sweatpants when you inhale sharply. You're sitting up straight on his bed, eyes wide as you look around in fear. They’re hazy, confusion settling into your mind after going from John’s office to Kyle’s room after kneeling.

“Hey, hey. It's alright.” Kyle says, moving over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge so he’s in your line of sight. “You're just in my room.”

“Kyle?” You whisper, clarity returning to your gaze as you stare at him.

“I'm here.” He says. “Just went to take a shower and clean up.”

“Where's John?” You ask, tears gathering in your eyes.

“Still working on things.” He says, cupping your face. “He'll be in eventually.”

The tears fall from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks. They wet his thumbs as he strokes your skin, your body trembling slightly as you sniffle.

Something’s wrong. He's known it since you latched onto him on the tarmac. The way you'd held onto him like he might disappear, how you looked almost angry when John told you they still had things to do, the way your scent had filled the barracks, bitter with fear and stress.

Something’s up, something you're not letting them in on. But, to be fair, they had just left you for a week, up and abandoned you to go play heroes. He wouldn't blame you for not telling them anything. The bonds have weakened. He can feel it, beyond just his natural beta senses.

“What can I do?” He asks quietly, trying to project his scent a bit to help calm you. He doesn't want you distressing, not after holding it together for so long.

“I...I need...” You inhale shakily, still trembling in his hold. “I don't know.” You whine, the tears falling faster now.

He pulls you against his chest, holding you as you cry. He feels the tugging in his chest, sympathy for you and what you must be feeling, along with the guilt of knowing they caused this. They did this just with their absence.

An idea begins to form in his mind as he holds you, something his family used to do when he was younger.

He pulls away from you, standing up. “Come on. I have an idea.”

He strips the blankets from his bed before pulling the mattress off the frame. He drags it to the door and out into the hallway before heading down to John's room. You follow behind him, watching him as he opens the door to John’s room, dragging the mattress in and dropping it on the floor.

“Stay here.” He tells you, heading back out into the hallway.

“What're ye doin’?” Johnny asks, sticking his head out of his door.

“Grab your mattress and Simon and meet me in Price's room.” Kyle says as he heads down the hallway, ignoring Johnny's further questioning as he makes for John’s office.

He doesn't bother knocking, walking right in. John blinks at him from behind the desk, and for a moment Kyle wonders if he'd fallen asleep sitting up. It wouldn't be the first time.

“Come on.” Kyle says, moving to stand in front of his desk. “Finish those tomorrow.”

“They're important, I have to get them done asap.” John counters.

“Yeah, well I have something more important.” He leans forward at John's questioning stare. “Your omega needs you.”

John stares at his beta for a moment, and Kyle can see the gears turning in his head, the debate happening, the conflict in his mind. He so rarely sees his alpha, his captain so indecisive for so long. He's usually so quick to act, analyzing a situation and making a decision in mere seconds.

If only you knew the things you've done by simply existing in their lives.

John closes the file on his desk, slipping it into the drawer before locking it. Kyle fights the triumphant grin threatening to form on his face as John stands from his chair after shutting his computer off. Kyle makes his way back down the hallway, John following behind after locking his office door. Kyle stops at his room, grabbing his comforter before heading for John’s room.

Johnny had obviously gotten the idea of what Kyle had in mind, his mattress and John's laid out side by side so the three make one giant bed for them on the floor. He’s already laid out his own comforter and Simon’s, as well as John’s on the mattresses. They probably wouldn’t need blankets for long with their body heat, but the blend of scents will hopefully begin to ease the tempest raging in your mind.

You’ve parked yourself in the corner, watching it all happen. You seem so small, so lost, so out of place. It's not all that different from when you'd arrived in their lives. Has being gone for a week really reverted things so drastically for you? Has your stress broken the bonds so much that you feel like a stranger amongst them again?

Kyle steps over the mattresses, approaching you slowly. You look up from where you had been staring off into space, blinking up at him. Your eyes are still red and watery from crying, your arms clutching one of your stuffed bears against your chest. It’s the one John had scented for you, back when they were trying to get you to nest. He wonders if you’ve nested since they left, if that urge is still there, or if that too has faded.

Kyle doesn’t often feel angry at his job. Not anymore. He doesn’t often question it. It’s what he signed up for, and he does it because someone has to. He chose this life, so he does his best to be a good soldier, to follow orders. Yet, as he stares down at you, he can’t help but feel anger bristling in the back of his mind. He tries to blame it on his instincts, on the fact that a member of his pack is so upset, so distressed at something that’s happened, and he doesn't know what to do to help.

Yet he knows they were the cause of it, even if it wasn’t their choice directly. Something happened because of them. He tries to rationalize it. This is an experiment, a test to see how well packs will do with omegas, if it has any effect on how well they can do their jobs, if it makes them stronger, or if it weakens them. Those in charge had obviously put little regard in for how it would affect the omegas. They couldn’t have known how you would react, how badly all of them leaving would affect you. Or maybe they did know, and they simply didn’t care.. Perhaps you weren’t the focus of their study, but you were still a variable, you were still an important piece of this puzzle.

How can they be more effective if their omega is struggling because of their absence? How can they be expected to function like a team now knowing leaving behind their omega will only cause distress for all of them?

Kyle takes a deep breath, pushing back the anger and the emotions whirling in his own mind. He needs to focus on you right now, focus on helping you relax, helping you get back to where you were before they left you. He’s doing the best he can do right now for you, giving you what you need, even if you don’t realize it’s what you need yet.

He holds out his hand to you, staying still as you stare at it. It takes you a moment before you slowly begin to move, slipping one of your hands into his. He guides you to the mattress in the middle, Johnny’s mattress, easing you down to sit on it. You glance around as Johnny and John toss pillows onto the mattresses haphazardly, making sure everything is perfect. It’s not a pretty nest, he’d hardly call it a nest at all, but he knows nesting is not necessarily all about looks. It’s about feeling, and right now, he knows you need to feel safe and secure.

John quickly changes into more comfortable clothes as Kyle stretches out on the mattress, opening his arms to you. You curl up against his side, resting your cheek against his chest. You press your face into his skin, inhaling for a moment before you settle, slowly beginning to relax in his hold.

Simon enters the room as John settles on Kyle’s other side, closing the door behind him and locking it, securing the five of you inside. Johnny settles on the other side of you, pressing up close against your back. He pulls one of the comforters up around the three of you before he tosses an arm around you, resting his hand on Kyle’s stomach, sandwiching you between the two betas again.

Simon stands over the makeshift nest, staring down at the four of you. He’s obviously the most uncomfortable with the situation, and still a bit miffed from your lack of greeting on the tarmac. It was his own fault for being so closed off with you for so long. You had instinctively sought out the members of the pack you felt the most connected to, the most comfortable with in your time of such great stress.

“Aw come on, ye big bastard, get in the bed.” Soap says, snapping Simon out of his reverie.

Simon shuts the light off, bathing them in near darkness. You tense for a moment as the lights go off before you slowly relax again. Kyle listens to your breaths even out as Simon gets comfortable on the mattress behind Johnny, the four of them settling in around you.

It's already warm in the room but none of them would even think of complaining. They’re too focused on surrounding you with their scent and their protection, the very thing you need the most.

NEXT ->

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx

@protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai

@redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg

@beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff

@smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60

@evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine

@thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows

@ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce

@darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood

@daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph

#call of duty #call of duty fic #task force 141 x reader #poly task force 141 #john price x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #x reader #alpha/beta/omega #a/b/o #omegaverse

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anantaru · 4 months

Text

synopsis. sunday loves having you close, yes, he really wants to be in control <3

cw. mating press, possessive sunday ?? <3 fem! reader

you cling tightly to sunday's shoulders as your mind drowns the second he has your legs pinned against your chest, the reflecting line and curve of his shadow casted upon your writhing body.

you attempt to arch your back through the crowded position as he moans your name, his angelic voice returning to the soft ring in his utterance.

sunday looks at you with hooded eyew, his body's reaction sensitive when you're taking him so well and effortlessly— your trace and squeeze alone was strong enough to override anything floating in his mind, paining his psyche.

his wet lips press against your forehead as he thrusts his hips forward, his palms sweetly placed over your head so he wouldn't accidentally knock you against the bed frame.

oh well, sunday can be sweet, yes, he just prefers to show you when you're alone and folded in half.

yet he always hopes to apply the best feeling of friction that would tip you over the edge, never faltering in watching you with the lightest brush of lips over your face— it's endless, you could feel the way he guided himself inside, his tip pressing there, his scent everywhere and the deep cram of his cock pulsing all the way to your stomach.

touching, more, teasing each other, a smile dancing in his eyes, skin brushing, rubbing against desire as he rolls his hips once more, driving his cock deeper, opening you up just that much more.

your hands clench into his hair as his hips jerk forward, pure, crystalized need surging through the bends of your body as your heart pounds heavily in your chest, your ears ringing with its beating the more you took him in, the clearer you felt the searing warmth that radiated out from the puncture of his cock.

"easy now, easy, no need for haste, i will wait for you to get used to it," sunday exhales, eagerness lingering behind those pretty words of his, "—used to me," as his voice held the tone of domination with a softness that does not go undetected, a verbal stroking that would always make you feel warm and protected.

you indulge in it, no choice but to whine his name as his body settles into the low hum of desire.

your walls wrap around him inch by inch, hands clenching as you sought to get used to being folded in half, the glitter in the corner of your eyes hinting of the aching swell of him, the delicious burn capturing all corners and angles.

your skin was hot, shivering and filled with his thick erection as his shaft twitches inside of you, over and over, burning its massive shape into your walls as his length sent vigorous waves all to your belly.

it's easy for sunday to get you to that point— to make you feel enthralled, happy, aroused, all until you messily spill your arousal and cum hard, your noises forming into shaky whimpers as your body responds in ways you wouldn't have believed were possible.

was it too much for you? yes and no, you see— you needed this, holding close to all the sensation and wanting to do more than feel him move in you. your hips jerk up and you shudder beneath him, the limit of your breathing too, in danger the more he filled you up.

it's when you realise it truly— you could drown in this pleasure, take it and use it.

possessing, owning one, just one, just you.

sunday was aware that he shouldn't luxuriate in dreaming about being painfully possessive of you in unhealthy ways— always attempting of letting go of his controlling tendencies regarding his jealousy and madness, never succeeding, always failing.

a whirlwind of emotions he cannot explain.

so each night, he decides to show you his passionate emotions instead. the ones he hardly can utter himself.

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #sunday x reader #sunday smut #honkai starrail x reader #honkai starrail smut #sunday x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you

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delicatepointeofview · 4 months

Text

Incomparable

fandom: Bridgerton

pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

summary: you don’t fit in quite well with the rest of the ton, but you still manage to catch the eye of the Viscount

note: this is for the girlies with resting bitch face, warning this is a fem!reader as much as i prefer a gender neutral reader, the heteronormative regency society just doesn’t allow it

this was already once posted before on my since deleted blog by my same current name but has been slightly edited :)

It was only one of the first balls of many and you were already regretting your unfortunate position as a newly presented flower of the season. You never thought you had what it took to be this year’s diamond, nor its ruby, nor its pearl, or any jewel for the matter. In your eyes you didn’t have the effortless glimmer that Daphne Bridgerton had last season nor the graceful steps of this season's ingénue, Edwina Sharma.

Of course, you had prepared all your life for this moment like every upper class girl. Knowing all that you should to be presented into society. You sat through the pianoforte lessons and even tried your hand at singing (which was a terrible mistake). You learned to embroider from your mother, much to the dismay of your aching fingers which always manage to burn and go numb far too quickly for her liking. You read all the textbooks even though you much preferred novels, never understanding the point of your tutors' comments about men wanting to marry educated girls. Quickly learning as you grew older and more outspoken that gentlemen like to know a woman is well read, but hardly ever that they use that knowledge in conversation.

But somehow, even after the painstakingly long hours at the modiste getting fitted for new dresses and the even longer time you spent getting into them, none of it was enough. Not the lessons, not the newly dropped hem, not the hours of sitting for your hair to be expertly styled and bejeweled by the finest gems your family had to offer. Still every other lady and her mama have had to comment on how you are so far from even the realm of possibly being considered a diamond. You heard their whispers through the silk and lace of their folding fans as clear as the night.

‘They barely graced the Queen with a smile,”

‘They’ll definitely grow to be a spinster with that face,’

Oh, but this wasn’t only from the women, of course not, they just have the decency to try and say this behind your back. You are well aware of how men love to grace you with their opinion, despite you caring very little for it. They always have the audacity to say these things straight to your somber face as if it would do you any good.

‘You know, you would be slightly prettier if you smiled,’

‘If you would smile, you would seem much more amiable,’

and most recently,

“I am sure more gentlemen would ask for a dance if you didn’t look so miserable, my Lady,”

You had been approached by a well-respected gentlemen named Mr. Hastings when you had escaped your mother’s disapproving clutches to find solace at the refreshments table. Drinking lemonade desperately wishing it were wine. He asked you to dance. Much to your misfortune you couldn’t fain a full dance card as the one clutched in your gloved hand was mockingly empty. This left you enduring a dreadfully boring conversation about his horse, how much it had cost him, how much it is actually worth, and just how incredible this horse was. You quite frankly wished to be anywhere else. As would anyone else you’re sure, but while they may have hid that behind a polite smile you showed your boredom evidently in your downturned lips.

But what would be the point in hiding it? You were tired of the facade that enwrapped these balls and society. Everyone was smiling, but was anyone truly happy? Even then who is happy and just goes around smiling like some loon. You were having a terrible time parading around the room with your mother’s stern grip on your arm showcasing you like a piece of meat, or a show pony— or to be terribly on the nose, Mr. Hastings prized horse.

Then once you had finally escaped her and found peace hoping to blend in to the wallpaper, you have been made to endure small talk and dance with a man you had little interest in. All while he made you listen to his horrendously dull conversation and he had the nerve to ask— no, to want you to not look miserable. This man who looked like molding swiss cheese and only spoke of his horse.

“I beg you pardon, sir?”

“That you look as if you are attending a funeral, my lady,” he says as he spins you following the choreography of the dance, “It is only polite that you smile as we dance.”

His own obviously fake smile is painted across his face, all thin lips and no teeth as he eyes you expectantly waiting for you to obediently heed his suggestion—or more likely it was a sort of social command. Polite society would have deemed you to be all smiles and perfect wit, to ease yourself out of this treacherous conversation you were wormed into with a poised grace or give in to his orders with a sickly sweet smile because it would be rude not to, no?

But no, indeed. You were not going to give in. No matter how many whispered or backhanded compliments you received only on your first night into society. You had seen how your female cousins and older friends had broken their backs to bend to the whims of society. Left behind forgotten ideals to suit their new suitors to get the ring and the wedding that would never even scratch at their fanciful girlish dreams of prince charmings and knights in shining armor. You would not let society break you.

“Well, I would smile if I was having a nice time. Maybe if you said something funny I would laugh or if the conversation was pleasant,” you had stopped dancing now, tired of this day and all the niceties and manners you were to follow.

You stood before him with your jaw clenched and your brows furrowed absolutely seething, “But you are far from pleasant. All you do, sir, is speak of your race horse and how much it is worth to you. If you care so much about your horse, I wonder why you ever wish to marry when all your attention seems to be going to your insipid horse!”

“Why you rude, intolerable girl—”

You didn’t care any more about the staring eyes of the ton or the gasps from appalled mamas. You would have welcomed all of Mr. Hastings angry words to at least hear something real for the first time all day. But instead he is cut short as the figure of a man approaches your side.

“I beg your pardon Mr. Hastings. How dare you raise your voice to a lady, have you no honor or decorum?”

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton stood before the two of you. Chin tilted upwards and shoulders set back in an unspoken challenge with the less titled man in front of you.

His question goes unanswered, but he continues nodding to you, “I believe the Lady makes a very agreeable point, sir. You speak entirely of your horse and nothing else, this would bore any with a brain in the ton.”

You almost would have laughed if you weren’t so shocked. What exactly was the Viscount doing? You hardly ever spoke other than short introductions and nods exchanged while you were in the company of his sister and your friend, Eloise.

But there was not a moment to think on this further as the scene that was forming around you was all too captivating. Mr. Hastings, who it should be mentioned once more felt so prideful of his horse, can be seen visibly shrinking shoulder hunching forward slumping as if he were a little boy who lost a game. He clears his throat, “Well then, I shall take my conversation elsewhere.”

Before he could turn to leave the eldest Bridgerton son stops him, “Sir, you have forgotten to apologize to the Lady,”

Mr. Hasting freezes in his place turning to eye the man and you bite your lip fighting the laugh that threatens to erupt at the odious man whose eyes widen and mouth becomes agape like a fish out of water.

“My apologies,” the words seem to clog at his throat and so he says nothing else. Nodding, “Lord Bridgerton...” and your name before meekly making his way through the crowd, his head down avoiding the gazes of the onlookers.

At this point most of the ton had gone back to their conversations around you, though there were still some lingering eyes as the dance floor had been oddly shaped as you and the Viscount remained standing in part of the appointed area. Anthony notices this and leads you further into the crowd.

Once he finds an agreeable spot he stops turning towards you, “I actually do wish to counter your statement, my lady,” he begins. You expect for a moment to be met with some stern lecture from a man who seems to think he’s entitled to an opinion of you as if he were your father (who you also do not think should have an opinion, but alas it is only 1814). Anthony surprises you however as instead he grins and says, “I actually believe Mr. Hastings would marry his horse if the Queen would allow it.”

And you couldn’t help but laugh, despite all your pride and pettiness to not grace this event or anyone in it with any pleasurable countenance. You laughed loudly tilting your head back, jeweled neck on display even letting out a small snort against your will. When you finally compose yourself, giggles dying down at the thought of Mr. Hastings in a horrid muddy green suit with a horse in a wedding dress, you can’t fight the smile that falls on your lips. Although unnatural to you, the light hearted joke and your vivid imagination make it easy. It lasts for a few seconds before you become very conscious of it as you let your lips fall back to their usual place.

Though if anyone was truly looking for it— which Anthony was— they would see the slight quirk in your lips as you told the Viscount, “It looks like you’ve gained the honor of making me laugh, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“I relish the title, my lady,” he says and you can tell he does from the smile that meets his ears, all teeth and pushed back cheeks. You acknowledge that this might be the realest encounter you have had since your debut. Anthony Bridgerton smiling from ear to ear was a sight to see.

He continues, “But I do have to disagree with the comments I have been hearing tonight. Smile or no smile you present the ladies looking to wed this season with quite the competition.”

“Me? Hardly, did you not hear my Lord, my countenance would never get me a marriage proposal,” you say fiddling with the hem of your gloves at your wrist.

“I would disagree, I think any reasonable man in attendance would be foolish to not see how incomparable you are, my lady.”

Incomparable.

You fight it like you had once your laugh, but you feel the heat spread to your cheeks and the nerves that begin to twist in your stomach. You didn’t need it, but the compliment was well appreciated after a night such as this one.

Giving you no time to compose the fluttering in your chest, Anthony adds, “Any lady who manages to be bold enough to tell Mr. Hasting how insufferable his horse talk is, ranks high in my book.”

“Well you might be the only one, sir,” you try to be as brave as you feel and dare to smile at him, but his gaze causes you to look away bashfully. That is when you notice your mother approaching and wishing not to make a fool in front of the Viscount you excuse yourself, “I do believe my mother has just been informed of the scene I have caused, so if you’ll excuse me.”

But before you can turn to go he calls out your name placing his warm bare hand on your own gloved fingers making you turn back to him.

“Would you save me a dance?”

And despite yourself, Anthony Bridgerton manages again to make you smile, “Of course”.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #glitter gel pen writings #folkloreweasley

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dreamwritesimagines · 21 days

Text

Theory of Gravity

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Making small talk can be difficult with a crush.

Word Count: 1234

Genre: Fluff Oneshot

Content: Drinking, reader being awkward because she has a crush, flirting

Contrary to popular belief, snitching on the whereabouts of a very dangerous mobster in the bar you worked in and possibly getting killed or maimed in the process was not a good plan for a Friday night but to be completely honest, you had done worse things over a silly little crush.

Like back in college freshman year when you pretended to be into music biopics just so that the hot guy in your elective would think you two were meant to be.

So if anything, this was a pattern.

“Logan?” you said as you put his drink in front of him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“What was Galileo like?”

He blinked a couple of times, the familiar scowl that seemed to be etched on his handsome face getting deeper and you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” he said. “I will lose all the belief I’ve never had in the first place in this country’s education system if you’re serious.”

You gave him a bright smile. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I figured it was better than asking how the public took it when Newton came up with the theory of gravity.”

The look on his face couldn’t be described with anything but complete horror and you let out a laugh, then went to serve another customer before quickly making your way to him.

“I’m just messing with you,” you said, leaning against the bar as you stole a look at the mobster sitting by the table with his men, then to Wade who was very, very busy with Vanessa by the corner.

“You look nervous,” Logan pointed out, making your head whip up before you cleared your throat.

“Nah, not at all,” you said. “I’m just thinking that if I die tonight, I’ll die doing what I love.”

“Which is?”

Gazing at older men who couldn’t look less interested in me.

“Being surrounded by drunk people who want to give me money,” you said. “Not a bad way to go.”

He scoffed into his drink before taking a sip while you nibbled on your lip, shifting your weight.

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” he said, his voice gruff. “We’re just waiting for his partner to show up, then we will deal with them both.”

You nodded your head. “Yeah. Sure, I know.”

“Do you?”

You nodded again, absentmindedly reaching out to play with the cocktail straw on the counter, painfully aware of his gaze on you that made your face burn.

“How’s grad school?”

…He remembered.

He remembered you saying that the last time he and Wade were here.

One simple observer would’ve thought he was on his knees proclaiming his undying love for you with the way your heartbeat went insane and his eyebrows rose as if he could hear it, but you quickly casted the thought away from your mind; that was surely impossible.

“Oh it’s going well!” you said, your voice going high-pitched for a moment. “Came for the hot professors, stayed for the education—I’m joking,” you added in a haste, waving a hand in the air. “I’m a very…very deep and intellectual individual.”

“Uh huh.”

“And none of my professors are hot,” you muttered and wiped at the damp spot on the counter with a napkin. “They should put that on the brochure if you ask me, it’s important information.”

“So you’ll be a doctor?”

“If by some miracle my dissertation goes through the jury,” you pointed out. “How about you? How’s your roommate situation with Wade going?”

He only grumbled something under his breath and you bit back a smile, then topped his drink.

“Thanks sweetheart.”

If there was one thing you hated the idea of more than dying was proving Freud right but it looked like you were going two for two tonight.

“So uh,” you said, trying to ignore the goosebumps rising on your arms because of his deep voice. “Hey, at least you have the place to yourself sometimes, no? When Wade is with Vanessa? Should give you some time to…bring someone home.”

And I volunteer as tribute.

He raised his brows, his unwavering gaze pinning you to your spot and you cleared your throat.

“Or—or someones,” you stammered. “Sky is the limit if you’re into that sort of thing. Now that it came up by the way, are…are you?”

“Am I bringing people home?” he asked as if he wanted to make sure that was what you were asking and you shrugged your shoulders, your face on fire.

“I’m just asking because, you know,” you began the sentence without having a clue on how you would finish it as usual. “I’m great at giving relationship advice, so if you were in a relationship I could be your own personal relationship coach.”

He pulled his brows together in confusion and you reached out to get the bowl full of peanut shells from his right just so that you could keep yourself busy, then turned the bowl over the garbage can.

“I’m not,” he said and you swallowed thickly.

“Who has the time for that these days, am I right?”

“Do you have—”

“Yes I have the time!” you cut him off, nodding your head in enthusiasm, your heart beating in your ears but he had already finished his sentence;

“…ice?”

You hoped to God tonight was the night you’d die because if that mobster in the corner didn’t shoot you, you were going to have to ask Wade to do it just to save you from this embarrassment.

“Oh,” you said after a beat as he stared at you. “Yeah—yeah I have ice, sorry.”

You rushed to get some ice and put it into his whiskey, biting inside your cheek and he cleared his throat.

“You don’t want to go out with me sweetheart.”

Well good news was that you had already made a fool of yourself so one could think the bar for your self-respect couldn’t get any lower, but boy oh boy you had already brought your metaphorical shovel.

“I disagree,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I would very much love to if you were interested.”

“You think I’m not interested?”

“I feel like I’d have a better chance at proving you’re not interested with dates and references than my own thesis,” you pointed out. “And that’s saying something—”

“I am interested,” he cut you off, making your eyes widen and you gawked at him, frozen in your spot. “Trust me, that’s not the problem here.”

“Am I getting the I’m too dangerous for you speech?” you heard yourself ask through disbelief. “Because screw that speech. Honestly, the only thing I’m focused on in here is if you—fuck!”

He pulled his brows together. “If I—?”

“No no!” you said as you pointed at the back door where two men were dragging Wade through. “Wade!”

Logan cussed under his breath as he shot up from his stool.

“Don’t go anywhere, we’ll talk about this later,” he told you and made his way to the back door while you heaved a sigh, leaning back to the counter as he stepped outside and you caught the sight of him grabbing a man by the neck before the door slammed shut. You pressed a hand over your chest, then tilted your head back with a groan.

“Alright,” you muttered to yourself. “That was smooth.”

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan wolverine #logan x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #james howlett #fluff #logan howlett imagine #logan x you

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obsessivevoidkitten · 5 months

Text

Releasing The Noctwind Brothers

Yandere Twin Vampire Brothers x Gender Neutral Human Turned Vampire Reader CW: Incest between the vampire brothers, mildly dubious consent, intoxication, reader initiated sex, threesome, spit as lube, cum as lube, biting, blood sucking, forced to drink blood, forced to turn into a vampire, bullying, bully gets killed, beating, reader has temporarily broken bones, temporary injury, overprotective yanderes, general yandere behavior, twin yanderes, surprisingly whole ending, surprisingly happy ending Word Count: 3.3k (I know this kind of fic isn't for everyone between the violence the bully receives and the incest, but I hope a lot of people like it anyway. I worked very hard. Also yes, this is a repost because the original had an accidentally gendered pronoun. I apologize if anyone read that and experienced dysphoria.)

You had made a mistake. One that would, soon enough, prove to be a fatal one. Not just for you.

In your haste to start a task you had as one of the town’s carpenters you had turned a corner and ran right into the town brute himself, Jorry. Running into him, at any time, could result in a punch from his large meaty fists, but he had been carrying eggs freshly laid from his hens. This resulted in egg yolk covering an outraged Jorry.

Jorry had bullied you for as long as you could remember, he and his friends pummeling you whenever you happened upon them while he was in a bad mood. Or in any mood really. He just really liked using you as a punching bag. Most people left such behavior in childhood, but not Jorry.

You wasted no time at all in fleeing upon seeing who you had ran into. You weren’t quite in the mood to be nursing a broken nose that day. Luckily he had to wipe egg goop out of his eyes and that gave you some crucial extra seconds to make yourself scarce.

Despite making it a good way out of your village, the angered Jorry pursued you. He was nothing if not persistent. You hesitated a bit, but decided your only hope was to flee into the cave that everyone in all the nearby villages were terrified of. No one could remember the truth of the matter, but it had long been forbidden to enter. Many superstitious folks wouldn’t even travel within viewing distance of it.

You did not put much faith in superstition though, and no matter what was in there it couldn’t be worse than how badly Jorry would beat you if he caught up to you. If you had just taken your punishment in town someone would have happened by or heard your screams and he wouldn’t have been able to do nearly as much as he would all the way out here.

Again, a truly fatal miscalculation. You damn fool.

Hoping that you were safe in the cave you crouched in the shadows. But, while absurdly violent, your pursuer was not particularly dimwitted. He pretty quickly surmised that the cave was the logical place for you to have gone. You heard him scream and call for you in the distance.

The only chance to avoid the beating of your lifetime was to retreat farther into the cave. You crept back as silently as humanly possibly. When you went as far back as you could you came across an old metal door, carved into the rock surrounding it were twisting serpents. An ancient rune of unknown meaning was etched into the door itself.

Staring at it filled you with dread and you were possessed with the all consuming urge to flee the way you had come, but it was forgotten as if it was never there when you heard Jorry again, this time near the entrance of the cave. If he entered it now he would be able to see you. Light still made it this far.

With the subtle magic of the rune no longer working on you, you slowly opened the metal door and entered into what looked like an underground mausoleum. An underground tomb long forgotten by the histories of man.

You found yourself between two large rectangles of stone. A chill ran up your spine when you realized they were sarcophagi. Evidently the final resting place for two souls left to the dark and dust of this cave. They were plain and unadorned, other than some words on the top. You leaned over and tried to make out the inscription on one when you suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of stone grating against stone.

The sarcophagus opposite of you moved before the one in front of you did. You tripped backwards in fright as the lids were pushed aside and two pale emaciated corpses pulled themselves up and faced your direction. You couldn’t quite tell in the dark but it seemed like their eyes were completely black, creating a chilling contrast with their pale skin.

The thin pale figures slowly began to pull themselves out of their not so final resting places as you got over your initial shock, got up, and got the fuck out of there. You sprinted past the metal door and back into the front of the cave.

You were so engrossed with the current task of running away from the corpses of the damned risen to do any manner of unholy things to those still living that you did not see Jorry as he entered the cave. For the second time that day you careened right into him, knocking you both out of the cavern and on to the dirt outside.

Jorry growled and grabbed your leg, pulling you over to him.

“You ran like a bitch, finally decide it’s better to face your punishment?”

“No, no, no, you don’t understan-”

He pinned you and began wailing away at your smaller body with his mighty fists. Blow after blow. Your nose was surely broken. Then he got up and started stomping on you with his powerful foot. Now some ribs were certainly broken too.

Suddenly you heard Jorry yelp and the beating stopped. Your face was swollen and bloodied, your mind consumed by the pain of broken bones. You couldn’t tell what was going on. Jorry was screaming, blubbering like a girl. The dearly departed had been slowed due to their time without feeding, but with Jorry distracted by his treatment of you he was easy enough prey.

The thin pale figures had him down on the ground, pinning him with less effort than he had pinned you. They bit into his body, ravenously drinking his blood. Not enough to kill him, but enough to reinvigorate themselves and make him weak and helpless. Barely able to move.

You had managed to wipe the blood from your face and saw what was transpiring. You tried your best to drag yourself through the dirt and put distance between yourself and them, but you only managed to get about a foot away before they finally noticed you.

“Alaric look! The one who saved us… they need tending to.”

The vampire evidently named Alaric joined his companion in looking over you. As injured as you were, you struggled to plea for mercy.

“Shhh, shhh. We aren’t going to hurt you. We’d never hurt our savior.”

“I’m Anthelm Noctwind and this is my twin brother Alaric Noctwind. We're going to help.”

Anhelm positioned himself so that your head was propped up in his lap. He bit at his wrist until blood was flowing.

“Here. Drink.”

You weren't sure what lore was true and what was merely myth, but you were fairly positive that it was universally agreed upon that turning into a vampire required the consumption of one’s blood. You struggled to turn away but you were powerless to do so. Alaric held your mouth open as Anthelm held his bleeding wrist above it.

Blood dripped in and you gagged as you were forced to swallow. It tasted the same as any blood, though perhaps a little sweeter. Shortly after you consumed it you lost consciousness. Both due to the blood itself and your rather severe injuries.

They took you and Jorry back into the cave. It would take the rest of the day and a lot of the night for you to turn and heal. Alaric carried you with the utmost care and consideration for your wounds while just picking up Jorry and tossing him in unceremoniously, causing him to cry out in pain as he hit the hard rocky floor.

“I’d kill you now and decorate this place with your entrails, but we need you for something, so just keep quiet.”

Between Jorry’s incessant pleas to be freed and his attempt to run out of the cavern while they were both busy watching you resulted in his clothes being torn from him and ripped into strips that were used to bind and gag him.

Alaric, the cruelest of the brothers, watched in amusement as their hog tied victim cried and shook in fear. The hulking peasant experiencing the fear of death for the first time. The amused vampire went over to him and pet him like he was a pet, in mock sympathy.

“Don’t worry~,” Alaric cooed, “You’ll be out of your misery soon enough.”

That prompted renewed struggles from the naked man. Alaric only laughed in a maniacal fashion as he returned to your side. They had removed their coats, still pristine as the day they had been sealed away, and used them as bedding for you.

They patiently waited for hours, Alaric occasionally taunting poor Jorry, until you finally stirred. The swelling had gone, your bones had mended, and they had licked up the blood that had covered your face. The only evidence that you had ever suffered at all were the bloodstains on your clothing.

It was well past midnight, the twins had lit a fire to keep you and themselves warm. You could see them clearly now that your face was healed. They both looked exactly alike, down to the same outfits. High class, but outdated, attire. They had pale grey eyes that observed your every movement, completely different from the black voids you thought you had seen earlier. Flawless pale skin with delicate, feminine, features. Their long straight hair accentuated their looks perfectly. They could certainly pass as women if they wore the right attire. Maybe they lured in victims that way.

You were confused and more than a bit groggy, but you managed to piece together all the events that had transpired before your rest. You jumped up and made for the door but they were quicker than anything, human or animal, that you had ever encountered. One got behind you with his hand on your shoulders and the other stood in front with his hand on your cheek.

“Don’t be afraid, dove. We aren’t going to hurt you.”

You whimpered as they each took one of your hands and guided you over to Jorry.

“You consumed vampiric blood, right now it has transformed you. Temporarily.”

“Yes, to make it stick you’ll now need to kill.”

“Technically it doesn’t need to be human, any mammal will do, but since we have this lovely volunteer we figured we shouldn’t waste it. ”

“Don’t really want him talking about us. Don’t really want him to live after hurting our dove. And, well, it spares some rodent that is more deserving of life.”

You shuffled nervously.

“I… don’t want to be a… vampire…”

You looked down at your feet, trying to avoid eye contact with them or Jorry who looked up at you with tears streaking his face.

“Sorry, but we aren’t really giving you a choice.”

“We didn’t mean to make it seem that way, please forgive us.”

“You saved us, you had enough magical power to open the door and ignore the rune. You will be a strong vampire, and we can tell a lot more about you by your scent.”

“Smell things like personality, even some thoughts. We know you will be perfect for us.”

“Uh… can’t I just stay with you and remain human?”

“No.” They both said in unison.

“Humans age and die.”

“Humans have betrayed us too. That’s how we ended up here. You broke the seal so we have to show our gratitude.”

You kept staring at your feet until you worked up the courage to ask the question you were afraid to hear the answer to.

“What if I refuse?”

Anthelm smiled and Alaric laughed as if it was a funny joke. Not that you could tell them apart yet.

“Not a choice sweetie, remember?”

“If you don’t do it willingly then I block the tomb entrance so you can’t go deeper.”

“And I guard the cave exit so you can’t leave. Then we leave you alone with your friend. Your hunger will grow. You’ll crave blood. Your senses will be unbearable.”

“You’ll hear his heartbeat, he will smell delicious, then you’ll drain him dry.”

“In more normal circumstances he could survive that, and the blood consumption without a death only prolongs the transitional period, it wouldn’t make you a true vampire. Go long enough without blood, have someone tie you up for a few days, and you’d turn fully human.”

“But he is weak and beaten. He won’t survive.”

You looked at them and stated boldly that you’d resist.

“You are more than welcome to try.”

They each took their agreed upon spots to guard against you fleeing. True to their word you did steadily become more and more hungry. Thirsty for blood. Your senses became acutely aware of the food that had been tied up for you. You tried to resist. Your body shook with the effort. You had a splitting headache and panted heavily. Jorry smelled so good, and the beat of his heart beckoned you towards him. Though you resisted longer than most, the outcome was inevitable.

You descended upon him, he squealed as much as he could with his gag as you bit into his neck and sucked him dry. His futile struggles getting more feeble by the second until they stopped entirely.

Alaric and Anthelm were behind you watching with wicked smiles.

When you finished your meal of Jorry you looked on in horror. But only briefly. You had over consumed and the effects were as powerful as they were swift. You were a bit dizzy and felt as though you were light as air.

“With his death you’ll be with us forever!”

You tried to get up but stumbled and nearly fell. One of the twins caught you. You smiled and nuzzled into his neck. There was a cute man holding you, why had you been so horrified earlier? You shrugged it off, if you couldn’t remember then it probably wasn’t too terribly important.

“Careful, dove. The first times on human blood and drinking to the point of death can be intense.”

“And we definitely let you drink too much.”

You giggled and stroked Anthelm’s soft black hair, not at all paying attention to his words.

“You’re prettier than any girl I’ve ever seen.”

He blushed and Alaric cackled at the spectacle. Until you kissed Anthelm deeply. Then Alaric looked a bit jealous.

You grinded your crotch against Anthelm and giggled at the face he made.

“Everything feels so… intense.”

“Ddon’t you want to go somewhere a bit more... comfy?

“Or romantic? We could find a town. An inn.” Added Alaric.

You ignored him, proceeded to unbutton his shirt and then rubbed your hands over his lean abs. He started returning the treatment, Alaric came over and helped him undress you. It didn’t take long for all three of you to be nude. They used the clothes to make an impromptu bed. Anthelm laid down, his erect cock on full display.

He pulled you on top of him, kissing and nipping at your neck while Alaric was behind the two of you. He pressed two spit-lubed fingers into both you and his brother. Both of you writhed in pleasure, but it simply wasn’t enough.

Alaric didn’t need to stretch either of you out, vampires wouldn’t be pained by something like a cock shoving its way in, but it would feel better with more moisture. He withdrew his fingers, making you pout, and lubed up his cock with saliva before sucking on his brothers for a moment to get it wet.

Then he guided his brother's dick into you before sliding his own cock into his brother. You pressed back against it, trying to get the girthy member as deep into you as possible. Anthelm humped into you slowly, timing his thrusts with your bounces.

Alaric gasped as his cock was gripped by his brother’s tight inviting insides, he gripped Anthelm’s legs for leverage as he drove himself deeper. Anthelm, in the middle of all the action, could barely think. Simultaneously making love to you while being bred by his twin had him drooling.

“Always so tight…”

“Alaric, h-harder.”

His sibling obliged him.

You were in a worse state than Anthelm. You were new to being a vampire and the blood drunkenness combined with your recent kill made every sensation indescribable. More so when the sensations were that of a vampire at your neck and a cock humping into you while you weakly continued to bounce on it.

Anthelm’s entire body shook as he came in you, shoving his cock far into depths before unloading his seed. He took a few moments to catch his breath, an orgasm evidently enough to tire a vampire. If only for a moment. He stayed hard and began fucking into you again.

“I think you were made for us, angel.”

The stimulation was just too much for you and you screamed as you had the most intense orgasm of your entire life. Your body relaxed as you lay on Anthelm, no longer bouncing on his cock but content to let him keep using you as long as he saw fit as you nuzzled into his chest.

Alaric gripped his brother’s legs tightly as he finally slammed in hard and filled him like he had filled you. Without missing a beat he slid out of his brother, covered his cock in the cum that pooled out of him, and slid it right into you. Both of there cocks now covered in a slimy mix of both of their loads, using it as lube as they thrust into you in tandem. You whimpered at the sheer immensity of the pleasure that was filling you.

The three of you spent the rest of the entire night, and a good chunk of the morning, engaged in a rapturous sea of sex. Eventually you all fell asleep on top of them. Given their recent centuries long slumber they stayed awake and idly toyed with your hair or caressing you as you slept soundly.

They whispered to themselves about what the plan from there was.

“There’s a stream outside we can clean ourselves off in.”

“Yeah, I can smell it. After that head to a town?”

“A large one where we can blend in. Feed on livestock outside the walls. Maybe rats too if necessary. Always rats in large towns.”

“What about humans? Always rapists and thugs in cities that need to be taken care of.”

Alaric looked at Anthelm hopefully.

“True. True,” Anthelm relented, “I suppose it won’t hurt to remove a few bad ones. On occasion.”

Alaric broke into a large grin.

“Yes! I love how our new partner gets when they are drunk on human life.”

You stirred a bit in your sleep though you didn’t wake, drool under your cheek and on Alaric’s bare chest.

“Quiet, they need their rest…”

“Sorry,” Alaric murmured sheepishly.

They continued chatting about the future until you woke up. With a clearer head you were once more traumatized by what you had done, but they calmed you down and explained how he deserved it and that you were not a monster. They would guide you in your new life.

They were eager to leave behind the cave that had held them prisoner for so long. Bidding the cave farewell with a piss on Jorry’s soon to be rotting corpse, the closest thing he would get to a burial, the brothers departed with you.

You made a life for yourselves in one of the larger cities. Anytime someone tried to hurt you they went missing quite fast. It would be many years still before you had the degree of strength and power that the twins possessed. And even once you did they’d always remain overprotective.

You quickly came to accept and love your new existence with them. Anthelm took up your trade with you while Alaric became a prominent cook and eventually owner of his own restaurant. Apparently the hypersensitivity of vampiric taste buds helped him make delicacies. There was always a need for carpentry and fancy food, so you never had any money troubles, (un)life was good. And you had an eternity to spend it with them.

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moonlightndaydreams · 6 months

Text

It’s your usual “anime afternoon” with Jisung but you accidentally put on porn.

Pairing: Han Jisung x Female Reader. I don’t use y/n in this.

Trope: Friends to lovers

Style: smut, all smut… 18+ MDNI

Warnings: watching porn (briefly), mutual masturbation, spitting, oral sex (f.rec), orgasms, unprotected piv sex (you know you should be safe guys), creampie.

Word Count: approx 3.6k

——————

“Let’s watch some anime, Sungie.” You called to your best friend Jisung, who was gathering snacks from his kitchen.

“Huh?” He called back, but you were already grabbing the remote flicking on the widescreen television.

“It’s okay, I’ll just put on whatever you’ve been watching.” You added, knowing perfectly well he’d probably moved on from whatever you watched the last time you were over. But you didn’t mind. You just loved spending time with your best friend. Just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company.

You sank back into the couch as the screen came to life. You were startled when high pitched pornographic whimpers filled the room, and a not so innocent visual of an animated woman jerking off an animated man came to life.

A crash came from the direction of the kitchen, and a very flustered Jisung appeared in the doorway.

“Fuck… baby,” he always called you baby, even though you were just friends. You tore your eyes away from the screen to find Jisung standing frozen, horrified, beet red and beyond flustered.

He rushed over to the couch, almost tripping in his haste, making grabby hands for the remote control. But you kept it out of his grasp.

“No, Sungie. I wanna see.” You protested.

Realising he couldn’t get the remote off you, Jisung took to standing in front of the television, arms spread out wide and flapping them about trying to block your view. “Shit! I didn’t mean for you to see this.” He wailed.

“Sungie! Sit down. I mean it. I do want to see. I’ve never seen Hentai before.” you plead and batted your eyelids deviously.

It was true. You were deeply intrigued, and you wanted to see.

You patted the couch cushion next to you. “Come on, Sungie. Sit.”

Jisung hesitated. “Are you sure?” He finally spoke. “You really wanna watch?” He sounded doubtful.

You closed your eyes and nodded vigorously.

“O-okay.” He gulped in disbelief, and nervously sat himself at the opposite end of the couch, keeping as much distance as possible from you (because that way it would be harder for you to see the growing bulge under his sweatpants).

You both sat in complete silence for the next five minutes. Eyes glued to the screen. This was more awkward than you had anticipated. You thought that the pair of you would have a giggle over the size of appendages and breasts, and the excessive amounts of animated jizz.

Instead, you felt yourself growing wet, and a slight ache developing in your core.

And then you realised - this is what Jisung gets off on. Of course he wouldn’t be joking around with you over it. He was probably feeling extremely uncomfortable right now, maybe even judged, and that’s the last thing you ever wanted him to feel.

Closing your eyes and sighing softly, you broke the silence. “Sungie,” you turned your gaze to him and he met your eyes. He looked - different. There was that familiar nervousness about him. But there was something else there too. His eyes seemed darker, his gaze a little unfocused. His eyelids heavy. “You are so quiet, Sungie. We don’t have to watch this.” You said softly. “We can turn it off, okay?”

“Baby, it’s up to you.” He bit his lip. “But,” he hesitated, “it’s gonna take a little while to turn this off!” he jerked his head downwards towards his crotch.

Without meaning to, you dropped your eyes to his lap finding him straining in his sweatpants. “Oh dear! Sungie,” your hands flew up to cover your mouth “Fuck, I’m-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to look…Oh God, I didn’t realise that you’d…” you started to ramble.

“Baby,” he cut you off abruptly. You closed your mouth and stared at him, jolted by the assertive tone in his voice. Then his expression softened. “It’s porn. My type of porn. What did you think would happen to me sitting here watching this?… With you.” The last part was barely a whisper, almost like he didn’t intend to say it.

For a moment you just looked at each other.

“Look,” he said, ignoring the sudden tension between the two of you. “this might be funny and entertaining to you,” he gestured to the screen, which you hadn’t turned off. “But…there was no way it wasn’t going to make me hard. I'm really sorry, baby. I hope I haven’t weirded you out.” He dropped his gaze to the floor and swallowed a lump in his throat.

“I’m aroused too, Sungie.” You admitted.

Jisung’s eyes snapped up to yours with a perplexed expression, his doe eyes - his hopeful but aroused doe eyes - made him look lost and vulnerable. You felt your core pulse in response.

”Are..are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

You shook your head seriously and swallowed, feeling your cheeks flush. Jisung gulped. God, you felt nervous.

”At least you can hide it. Look at me. Ha ha.” He chuckled and you could tell his anxiety was getting the better of him. He rubbed his hands on his thighs before finding a cushion and placing it over his lap. “Ha ha.. I should have thought of that sooner. Oh sit there cushion. Stay put.” Then he tilted his head back to lean on the back of the couch and squeezed his eyes closed. The boy looked like he was in agony.

”Sungie. Baby.” You felt terrible that you had gotten him into this predicament. He was right. You could conceal how you were feeling, how your body was responding underneath your long, flowy skirt. You seemed so calm and nonchalant when all the while your cunt was begging to be touched, to be filled, and to be sated. You looked at where Jisung had balanced the cushion precariously on his (what you imagined to be) agonising erection. He still had his head back leaning against the back of the couch, and his eyes remained closed.

Your precious Sungie. So fucking vulnerable. Yet he hadn’t sent you away. He hadn’t turned off the porno. He hadn’t left the room. Perhaps he trusted you? That, or his anxiety caused him to freeze rather than fight or flee.

The cushion wobbled ever so slightly, almost falling from it’s perch. Balance. You needed to balance things out. You needed to be vulnerable too.

”I won’t hide it then.” You said steadily.

Jisung’s eyes slowly opened and for a moment he stared at the ceiling as though he was trying to decide if he had imagined your words. Still resting his head on the back of the couch, he lazily turned his face towards you.

”Yeah?” He said low and breathlessly. You couldn’t quite tell if his expression was begging you or daring you to show him. Your cunt clenched.

”Yeah.” You whispered. Your teeth bit into your lower lip as you reached down to the hem of your skirt, and shifted your position to be resting your lower back against the arm of the couch and brought your legs to rest along the couch cushions. Slowly, you began to slide the fabric up your legs. One inch at a time. You kept your gaze on Jisung, who hadn’t moved except for his eyes. They were following your hands as they eventually lifted your skirt high enough to reveal your panties. You let your legs gently fall open, exposing your most intimate place to your best friend, even if it was covered by your panties.

You held your breath just as Jisung sucked in a breath, his eyes glued to the wet patch between your legs. You could feel the fabric sticking to your folds, and having Jisung’s lust filled eyes fixed to it made you gush even more.

The cushion fell off Jisung’s lap, almost comically. But he didn’t seem to care as his hand mindlessly went to palm himself.

“So you’re into Hentai then?…’cos I can give you some links if you want?” Jisung was trying to make light of this very new situation you had found yourselves in, but his voice came out husky and deep.

You weren’t even sure if it was really the porn that was turning you on at this point. In fact, you had stopped paying attention to it when you saw Jisung’s erection. You realised in that moment you wanted Jisung. Your Sungie.

“What would you normally do when you watch porn, Sungie? Show me.” You encouraged.

”Only if you show me what you do.” He countered.

”Okay.” You replied without hesitation.

”So…I’m gonna, like, get my dick out now.” He stated.

“Okay.” You said again. He gave you one last look to make sure you were serious, and when he felt certain that you were, he pulled his sweatpants down just enough to let his cock spring free.

A little whimper escaped your lips as you took in the magnificent sight that was Sungie’s cock. The silky smooth skin with a vein running up the shaft had your mouth watering. The pink, angry tip looked almost painful and you desperately wanted Jisung to feel relief from the strain.

Jisung licked his palm and wrapped his hand around his cock, and started to stroke it languidly. You looked up to find him watching you watch him.

”Hey…um…baby?” He tentatively began, “C-can I get you to, um, do something for me?” He stuttered. “It’s kinda dry… can you, if you want to that is… spit on it? Get it nice and wet for my hand?”

You thought he was going to ask you to suck him off, and part of you wished he had, but you also didn’t want to make assumptions about what he did and didn’t want. This whole situation was uncharted territory, and the last thing you wanted to do was overstep some boundary.

“Okay.” You whispered (was that the only word you knew how to say anymore?) and shifted onto your knees beside Jisung.

Careful not to touch him, because you weren’t sure if you should, you leaned your face over his cock. Pre-cum was oozing from the tip and it was all that was needed to make your mouth water. You watched as a string of saliva left your mouth and connect to the head of Jisung’s cock, before it trickled down the slit and down his shaft. Jisung let out a sharp breath as your saliva made contact and his dick twitched.

”Good girl, baby.” Jisung praised, and you sat up on your knees proud of yourself.

You went back to your position up the other end of the couch and watched Jisung smear your saliva around his cock with his hand before pumping it rhythmically.

The thought alone, of him using your saliva to lubricate his cock, made you desperate for relief of your own. You took this moment to discard your drenched panties and lay a little further down on the couch and prop one leg up on the back of the couch, hanging the other off the side of the couch, your foot resting on the floor. You tried to block out the nerves of being so open and on display for your friend, and instead focus on the feelings of arousal.

You and Jisung locked eyes again. His expression told you he liked what he saw. He looked breathtaking when he was turned on. He looked almost drunk, and most of his nervousness had left him (although your nerves were worse than ever now).

Slowly, you reached for your pussy, spreading your lips apart and dipping a finger into your entrance. You gathered some of your wetness and slid your finger up to your swollen clit where you rubbed circles over it.

Jisung didn’t even try to peel his eyes away from where your hand pleasured yourself.

”Fuck, baby. You're so good to me…showing me how you play with yourself like that.” He choked. “Oh, fuck!” He cried, scrunching his face up and furrowing his eyebrows as spurts of cum took him by surprise and landed all over his tshirt.

”You look so good when you cum, Sungie.” I hope I get to see that face again sometime. You thought..

Jisung grinned that fucked-out grin you’ve seen your previous lovers have after they cum, but none of them looked as sexy as jisung. It only made the desire inside you grow.

Jisung pulled his shirt off to reveal his perfect broad shoulders and tiny waist, and used it to wipe away some of the cum that had landed on his skin and toss it to the side.

He let out a big relieving sigh and brought all his focus back to what you were doing. “Baby, you're glistening.” He said in awe. You were so wet right now, your juices smeared all over your core and even sticking to your inner thighs.

“Spit on it, Sungie.” You purred, mirroring his request. Jisung smirked, and crawled over to you, making your heart rate speed up as he entered your personal space. He stopped only when his face was mere inches from your cunt. “Oh, so you like it really slippery and messy, huh?”

You knew he’d be able to see everything. You were sure he could see your clit throb, your cunt clench around nothing. You were certain he could smell your arousal too. Oh god. It was almost too much to bear having him drinking you in with his eyes like he was.

“Sungie,” you whimpered.

”Shh, baby. Sungie’s got you.” And with that he gathered some saliva, letting it dribble out in a long string. You clenched in anticipation as you watched it fall from his mouth, and hissed under your breath when it landed on your clit and ran down between your lips to your ass.

“Do you… do you wanna touch me, Sungie?”

He glanced up at you. “Fuck, yeah!” He grinned. You reached out to gently cup his cheek, before sliding your hand up to push his dark, messy hair out of his eyes, while he took his thumb and slid it along your sopping slit from your entrance up to your sensitive bundle of nerves, just like he’d seen you do moments before.

“Am I doing this ok?…. Fuck! You’re so slippery!” It was as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and what he was feeling with his thumb.

“I have to taste you.” He looked up at you. “Can I taste you, baby?”

You nodded. “Yes. Sungie… please, I need to feel your mouth on me.”

Jisung nestled between your legs, resting on his forearms and placed his hands on your inner thighs, pushing them out wider to give him more access.

You kept your hands tangled in his hair as he moved in and attached his plush lips to your centre in a soft kiss.

“Oh!” You cried. His lips felt searing hot, and he’d barely even begun to eat you out. Then he parted his lips and slipped his tongue out to lap at your entrance. You held one of your legs wider, and pulled Jisung’s face closer against your pussy. He devoured you like a starved man, messy and desperate. “Fuck, Sungie! Your mouth… nggghh… your tongue! Fuck!”

You felt fingers at your entrance at the same time he moved his mouth up to latch onto your clit, and you arched your back off the couch when he slid two fingers inside of you whilst nibbling at your clit.

It was all of a sudden too much and you could feel yourself reaching your tipping point. “Sungie… I’m gonna cum… I’m… I’m…” you ground your hips wildly against Jisung’s face as you reached your high. Jisung stayed with you only slowing his fingers as you came down. Breathless, you laid your head back on the chair arm and tried to come back to earth.

Jisung peeked up from between your legs, his shit eating grin covered in your wetness. Your hand still tangled in his hair.

“Kiss me Jisung.” You whispered, using his real name. Moving quick like a cat, he was suddenly hovering over you, caging you in with his strong arms.

You gazed into his beautiful boba eyes. They were what you loved most about your friend. And now he was staring at you like you’d hung the moon. His gaze flickered over your features, lingering on your lips. Then he was kissing you.

His lips were soft and wet from your arousal. You could taste yourself on him. His tongue sought yours frantically, desperate for connection, just like he was with your pussy.

“You’re so good to me, baby.” He panted before connecting your lips again.

For the next few minutes the world fell away, and the sounds from the television long forgotten as you lost yourself to Jisung’s mouth.

You could feel he was hard again as he ground against your bare centre. The fabric of his sweatpants was the only barrier stopping him from slipping inside you. His hand slid underneath your top, caressing the skin on your stomach. Why did his touch feel so hot, burning into your skin and making you melt into a puddle beneath him?

“Baby,” he managed between kisses to your neck. “Are you gonna let me see all of you?” His hand slid up to cup your bra and squeeze your breast gently. “Mmm…Sungie…” you keened.

“Will you show me everything?” He panted, pressing his hot mouth to the skin of your neck again.

“Mmm… only if you take these off.” You smirked and flicked the elastic waistband of his sweatpants. “I wanna feel you against me. Nothing in the way.”

Jisung kneeled between your legs and swiftly stripped you of your top and bra, and then your skirt and his sweatpants.

He took a moment to take in your naked form, muttering a “fuck!” under his breath before lowering his body onto yours.

He pressed his pelvis against you, trapping his hardness between your bodies, and rolled his hips so the length of his cock slid along your pussy.

“Oh god… Oh Sung-” you mewled and wrapped your hands around his neck to pull his naked body closer to yours. You dragged your fingers down his sinewy back and dug your nails into his ass. Jisung groaned into your mouth, shifting his hips slightly. His cock slipped lower, the tip catching on your entrance causing you both to moan pathetically. But he didn’t push inside, despite your wriggling trying to get it to slip in. Jisung peppered kisses along your jaw, while his hands explored the bare skin of your thighs.

“Will you be mine baby? Will you let me fuck you raw? Say you want me… please, baby.”

He was out of his mind. But so were you. You knew you should be safe, to use protection, but the thought of any barrier separating you was too much distance. You wanted, needed him, to feel all of him, even if just for a second.

“Jisung…please… fuck me. Plea-”

You let out a low moan as Jisung sunk into you. Slowly, as though he was savouring the feeling of stretching you out around his cock.

“Is this okay?” He paused once he was fully seated inside you. You nodded and smiled, indicating you needed him to start moving.

“Jisung… you feel incredible.” You whispered against his sweat sheened neck.

Jisung repeated your name over and over like a mantra, worshiping every inch of your body, as he fucked you so very slowly. He took his time like he was in no hurry to reach your climaxes, rolling his hips and hitting your sweet spot at an agonisingly tender pace. Your eyes rolled back in your head when he took your nipple in his mouth, humming around it then biting down.

“I don’t want this to end.” He chuckled softly. “But I don’t think I can hold back any longer.”

You tangled your hands in his hair, and wrapped your legs around his trim waist. “I need you to fuck me good, Jisung. Show me how you want to fuck me, okay, baby?”

Jisung picked up the pace, pistoning hips harder and harder with each thrust. You had to hold on tight otherwise you were sure you’d be fucked right off the end of the couch.

Your cunt clenched tighter around his cock.

“Oh fuck… I’m gonna cum if you clench like that.” He growled.

“I’m close, Sungie.” You panted squeezing your eyes closed.

“Cum for me, baby. Come on my cock.” He reached down and rubbed your clit causing you to shatter to a billion pieces and pulse rhythmically around him.

“Oh Sungie… oh…” you sobbed from the intensity of your orgasm.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you, yeah?” Jisung pushed a strand of hair off your sweaty forehead and smiled. The gesture made your heart burst. Then he started fucking you again. “You feel so good, baby. You’re so good to me. I’m gonna cum…Where can I-”

“Cum inside me. Fill me up. Please…please don’t pull out.”

Jisung’s hips stuttered and watched his face as you felt him release deep inside your cunt. He collapsed on top of you panting and you held him tight, stroking his back.

For a good while that’s how you stayed. Just holding each other silently. The sounds of the porn on the television still filling the room, but neither of you noticing.

“Baby?” Jisung finally spoke.

“Mmm?” You hummed.

He lifted his head. “Does this mean we’re more than friends now?”

You reached up and squeezed his chubby cheek.

“I think so, Sungie. I think so.”

@channieandhisgoonsquad @queenmea604 @queen-in-the-shadows @kangnina @itshannjisung @noellllslut @weareapackofstrays

#han jisung smut #skz smut #han jisung x reader #stray kids smut #sorshas fic

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