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E X C U S E M E

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 17: Alone

Summary: Your pack has left on their first deployment since you joined them, leaving you alone on base.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,866

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, nightmares, PTSD, trauma, just super depressing overall.

A/N: I'm so ready for these next two chapters, you have no idea. Things are happening, things are gonna happen, it's just...so good. You'll see 🤭. They're pretty heavy chapters emotionally, but don't worry fluff will be coming very soon. I won't leave you hanging too much for too long.

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“We'll only be gone for a few days. A week at most. Dr. Keller will take you to and from meals and anywhere else you may need to go. If you need anything, contact Kate. We'll call when we can.” 

He leaves you with a kiss to your forehead. You’re forced to stand there and watch his back as he boards the plane, the ramp closing and sealing you off from them. They all looked guilty, as if it was their fault they had to leave, as if they were suffering as much as you at the idea of parting, even just for a short period of time.

You don't sleep that night. You lay in your bed and stare at the ceiling until far too late when you decide to abandon it for John's room instead. You slip under the covers, disrupting the immaculately made bed as you surround yourself with his scent. You’re on edge, the barracks far too quiet, far too empty. Every little sound has you tensing, holding your breath. The door is locked, yet it’s not the same without your pack there to protect you. If you scream, no one will hear you now. 

You manage to fall asleep at some point in the early hours, your mind plagued with horrible nightmares of monsters devouring and tearing you apart. 

You wake with the sun, dragging your feet back to your room. You miss the quiet sounds of your boys getting ready in the morning after their workouts, taking extra care not to be too loud. Now you wish for it. You want them to be loud and wake you, because then they’d be here with you. The hallway feels too empty, the barracks too large. You’ve spent plenty of time alone in the barracks, but it’s never felt like this. They’re not just across base from you, they’re probably in an entirely different country. 

You stare at their closed doors, all four of them feeling like voids knowing the rooms behind them are empty. Even Ghost’s closed door feels particularly empty. 

You shuffle into your room, locking the door behind you as you get ready for the day. You’re not quite sure what you’re going to do, now that you don’t have them around. You suppose you could just go about your day as you usually do while they’re at training, except you won’t have their inevitable return to fetch you for meals to look forward to. 

It’ll be days before you see them again. 

If you see them again. 

You force that thought back into the recesses of your mind. You won’t entertain it, not now while you’re still trying to process the fact that they’re gone. Even if it is a possibility. 

You’re sitting on your bed when the knock comes, clutching your phone in your hand. You don’t want to be without it, in case they call. You don’t want to miss a chance to talk to them, especially if it’s your only chance. Or a call from Kate telling you something happened.

You open the door, Dr. Keller standing in the hallway with a small smile on her face. It doesn’t feel strange having her in this space, even with the rest of your pack gone. She’s been here before, and you trust her. 

“How are you doing?” She asks as you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. 

“I don’t know.” You say, letting out a sigh. “I couldn’t sleep last night.” 

“I don’t blame you. Feels strange, being alone here, huh?” 

You nod. “Yeah. It’s too quiet. Too empty.” 

“I bet.” You follow her out of the barracks and into the cool morning air. “Let’s get some food in you and then you can take it easy for the rest of the day. I know this is a big adjustment, and it happened rather suddenly.” 

“Was gonna happen eventually, though.” You say. “For the three months I was with the CIA, they drilled it into my head that their job would always take priority over everything else. Still sucks.” 

“It does. Separation is hard for everyone in a pack, even if it’s short term. Add on the stress of their jobs and I can only imagine what it’s like.” 

“I’m trying not to think about that.” You say. 

“I think that’s the best thing you can do right now.” She squeezes your arm. “Come on, we’ll get the food to go and we’ll eat in my office. I usually do that anyway. It’s much quieter than the mess.” 

You get your breakfast, following Dr. Keller to the medical center. You are silently glad you won’t have to eat in the mess without the protection of your pack. The stares from the others might have been your tipping point, and without Ghost to scare them off, you’re sure it would have only been worse.  

“Make yourself at home.” Dr. Keller says, letting you into her office. “You can sit at the desk to eat, if that’s more comfortable. I don’t mind.” 

You take her up on the offer, sitting in the chair across from hers at the desk. She moves some papers out of the way before taking a seat herself. It feels almost strange, being so informal in her office, but then again, she’s always been more laid back with the formality between the two of you. 

“If there’s one thing I miss, it’s good diner food.” Dr. Keller says as the two of you begin to eat. 

You stare down at your porridge for a moment, having gotten used to the change in food over the last almost nine weeks. “I miss a lot of things.” 

“Would you ever want to go back and visit America?” Dr. Keller asks. 

You shrug. “I don’t know.” 

“I’m sure they’d take you, if you asked.” She smiles as you stare up at her in surprise. “I don’t think there’s much they wouldn’t do, if you asked. They care about you a lot.” 

“I’m starting to realize that.” You say. 

“Good. It’s reassuring to see such strong, natural bonds forming between all of you, despite how the situation came about. You’ve made a lot of good progress already, even with the few bumps in the road.” 

It falls silent between the two of you as you eat, finishing your breakfast. Your stomach churns with anxiety, hand closing around the phone in your pocket as if it might ring at any moment. It makes you sick, the thought of what they might be doing, what might be happening right at this very moment. 

“Can I ask you something?” You break the silence, needing to take your mind off your swirling thoughts. 

“Of course.” She says, looking up from the papers she’d been looking through. 

“Since I’m your only patient, what do you do all day?” You ask. 

She smiles. “I do a lot of things. After our sessions I log the notes I take and read over them, I make sure your medical chart is up to date, I read through a lot of studies and journals on new research and methods that may be helpful, I talk to colleagues all over the world, including here on base, and I sometimes go around the medical center and sit in on meetings and classes to keep my skills sharp.” 

“Do you ever feel like you’re wasting your skills here?” 

She shakes her head. “No. Before I took this job, I was caring for sometimes over one hundred omegas at various institutes. It was a high stress environment with long hours. While it was fulfilling work, there’s a high turnover rate for Omega Specialists in that field for a reason. Being a private doctor is a bit of a relief after that, and truthfully, the pay is considerably better.” She folds her arms on her desk, leaning forward. “It’s no less fulfilling than working at institutes. It’s nice to have the time to put together the best care plan for you and your needs.” 

“It is nice having an Omega Specialist to myself.” You say. “There were several at the institute, a lot of students doing their residency. They weren’t always...good at their jobs. A lot of them were just going through the motions, doing what the more experienced specialists told them to do.” 

“Unfortunately that’s rather common with residents.” She says. “Most of them don’t make it past residency. Like a lot of specialities in medicine, it takes a certain kind of personality to succeed as an Omega Specialist. Not everyone has it in them. I wish more schools and programs would take notice earlier before they get to their residencies and steer them down a different path.” She smiles at you. “Now my question for you. Would you rather hang out in here today, or would you prefer to go back to the barracks? You won’t hurt my feelings either way, nor will you be a bother.” 

You think about it for a moment. While your knee jerk answer is to go back to the barracks, what are you going to do? Sit alone in the silence and worry until it makes you sick? Sit in the rec room and watch TV alone and worry about your boys until the next meal time? As much as you want to be alone, you also don’t want to be alone. 

“I’d...like to stay here, if that’s okay?” You finally say, making your decision. 

“More than okay.” She smiles. “Make yourself at home, do whatever you’d like. Watch YouTube videos, dig into some books, take a nap. You won’t bother me in the slightest. You’re always welcome to hang out in here.” 

You look over the titles on the bookshelf, picking one that looks interesting before settling on the couch. You spend the day with Dr. Keller, relaxing in her office and going to meals with her. It doesn’t calm the anxious thoughts by much, but at least the loneliness is abated a bit. 

You return to the barracks after dinner, debating whether you should sit in the rec room or just go to your room. The rec room feels too open, too exposed without the safety of your pack, so instead you choose to retreat into your room, locking the door behind you. 

You let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping as tears gather in your eyes. Another night without them, another night without the safety and comfort of their presence around you. Another night knowing they’re not on the other side of the wall, a knock or a yell away. 

You fight the panic starting to bubble as you get ready for bed, your mind swirling with thoughts of something happening, someone breaking in, someone taking advantage of their absence to get to you. You know it’s an irrational fear. Most of the alphas on base ignore your existence, aside from the couple incidents you’ve had with them. The most they do is stare, though that’s to be expected as an omega. 

What if they’re holding back something more sinister, though? What if the only thing stopping them is your pack? This would be their opportune moment. 

You’re shaking, eyes wide in fear as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Sure, you’ve learned a few ways to defend yourself, but could you really utilize them? If the moment called for it, could you defend yourself enough to get away? Where would you go? Dr. Keller won’t be in her office all night. Could you run and seek protection from another medical professional that was still working? Could you find a different high ranking official on base and hope they’d help you? Could you go for the guards at the gate and hope they help you? 

Or would it be safer to run for the woods? Try to lose whichever alpha decided to attack you and hope you don’t get lost in the trees? You would just have to survive the night, and Dr. Keller would notice you missing come morning. What would she do, though? Call Kate? It’s not like the guys could just come home and help you. Would Kate even tell them something happened and put them at risk of getting distracted? What if something happened to them because of you? 

You turn the shower on as cold as it will go, stepping under the spray in your pajamas. You sink to the floor of the shower, letting the cold water snap you out of your panic and prevent you from distressing. No one’s coming through the door, no one’s going to try and hurt you. 

Your teeth are chattering by the time you reach up to turn the water off. Violent shivers rock your body, your hands and feet numb. You take deep breaths, feeling more awake and aware than you have since yesterday. 

The panic has dropped to almost nothing, your shaking now due to the fact you’re freezing. You strip out of your wet clothes, leaving them in the tub as you wrap a towel around yourself. You’re still shivering violently as you change into warmer pajamas, opting for one of John’s shirts and sweatpants. 

You slip under the covers of your bed, piling every blanket you own on top of the covers before tucking yourself against your giant bear. You won’t sleep, but at least you’re not panicking anymore. 

The days begin to blend together without the routine of your pack to keep you steady. Dr. Keller comes to get you at the same time as you expect for your breakfast, and then you spend all day with her, sitting in her office, keeping yourself occupied while you wait for an inevitable phone call. It will either be your pack calling to check on you, or it will be Kate with bad news. 

You’re not sure which is worse. The anticipation of a call from your pack letting you know they’re all alright, or the dread that it will be Kate telling you something happened to them. 

You’re still not sleeping well, the anxiety and the worry you might miss their call meshing with the nightmares that were already plaguing you before they left. You’re exhausted and strung out, the worry beginning to eat you alive. You’re constantly on edge, every little sound close to sending you spiraling. 

Your thoughts have slowly shifted from missing your pack to ruminating about the fact they might not be coming back. It’s a risk you’re well aware of. The kinds of things they do put them at risk, every deployment carries the risk of one, or all of them, dying. One thing goes wrong, one small freak accident and your entire pack could be taken from you. 

You’re not sure you’d survive that. 

Most omegas don’t. 

“Still nothing?” Dr. Keller asks as you sit there, staring at your phone for what must have been an hour at least. 

You shake your head. “Nothing.” 

“Sometimes no news is good news.” She says. “I know you’d prefer to have any news at all, though.” 

“I can’t stop thinking...what if something bad has happened?” You say, fingers trembling from gripping your phone so hard. 

“Kate promised she’d call if something happened, right?”

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“She’s a woman of her word, I can say that much. I’m sure they’re fine. They’re very capable soldiers. They wouldn’t be in Spec Ops if they weren’t, much less on a highly specialized team.” Dr. Keller stands up, moving to the closet. “It’s still hard, not knowing where they are or what they’re doing. I remember when my brother told our parents he was enlisting. Our mother cried for a week straight.” She pulls a pillow and a blanket out of the closet. “I still don’t think she’s completely forgiven him. It’s hard for omegas when someone leaves the pack, even temporarily, especially if you can’t have constant reassurance that they’re alright.” 

Your brows pinch in a frown at her words as she kneels on the floor beside the couch. “Your mom was an omega?” 

She nods. “And dad was a beta. Wound up with two beta children, though I don’t think mom complained much about that. We grew up in a big pack with lots of people around us. I think mom would have been worse off if it had just been her and dad.” She sets the pillow on the couch, gently prying the phone from your fingers. “Come on, lay down.” She directs you. 

You do as she says, laying down on the couch, resting your head on the pillow. She covers you with the blanket, tucking it up around your neck. “Is that why you’re so good at this job?” 

She smiles, setting your phone on the arm of the couch above your head. “Maybe. I think it gave me more empathy for omegas and the struggles you face every day.” She gently squeezes your arm. “They’ll be alright. They’re probably just as worried about you, as you are them. But, you need to get some rest. You don’t have to sleep, just laying with your eyes closed will help.” 

You tilt your head, glancing up at your phone. “What if I fall asleep and it rings?” 

“Then I’ll make sure you get a chance to answer it.” She says, squeezing your arm again. “I promise. Get some rest.” 

You let out a breath, not wanting to risk falling asleep, but you close your eyes anyway. It doesn’t stop the thoughts from coming on, the nightmarish images the anxiety feeds your brain flashing before your eyes. What if they’re lying dead somewhere right now? What if something’s happened to Kate and she can’t tell you? Would you ever find out? Would you ever know? 

Despite the anxiety prickling through your body, the warmth of the blanket begins to lull you into a false sense of security. Perhaps it’s the sheer exhaustion from your lack of sleep over the last couple weeks, paired with the exhaustion from your constant worrying, but you find yourself slipping between sleep and consciousness as you lay there on Dr. Keller’s couch. You don’t mean to, but you can’t help it as you begin to drift off to sleep. 

Screaming. It’s loud, piercing your ears. Something’s holding you, hands clutching at your form desperately. It hurts, nails biting into your skin, fingers gripping too hard, yet you don’t care. 

“You won’t take her from me! I won’t let you!”

You’re crying, sobs wracking your body as you cling just as tightly to the form holding you. 

Hands grab at you, squeezing and pulling, trying to free you from the constricting grip around you, but it won’t let go. You cling to it just as desperately, afraid of what will happen if you let go. 

You know what will happen if you let go. 

“She’s no daughter of mine.” 

The words bite into you, slicing through your skin straight into your very soul, the prickling pain of your own flesh and blood rejecting you making your skin crawl. How could he just let you go like that? How could he turn against you so easily, over something you have no control over? 

Pain erupts across your entire body. Something snaps, your ears ringing from more screams. You’re being pulled away from the safety of the hold around you, your body going cold as the warmth around you disappears. Hands close around you, fingers ripping into you as you're torn from your mother’s hold and into the unknown. 

“Easy, easy.” 

You’re gasping, breathing wheezing as tears choke you. 

“Deep breaths. In and out, nice and slow.” 

Your breath hitches, catching painfully in your chest. 

“You’re alright, you’re safe.” 

You force your eyes open, blinded by tears as something is tucked into your arms. You squeeze the bear against your chest, hiccuping as you fight for control over your emotions. You’re on the couch in Dr. Keller’s office still. You’re not at what was once your home, not stuck in the nightmare you’ve lived over and over. 

Slowly breathing becomes easier, your sobs quieting to sniffles. The tears still spill down your cheeks, dampening the fur of the bear in your arms. 

“You’re alright,” Dr. Keller says, rubbing your back gently. 

You slowly push yourself up to sit, pulling your knees against your chest. You press your palms into your eyes, trying to get the tears to stop. Dr. Keller shifts her position, sitting next to you on the couch. 

“How long have you been having nightmares?” She asks quietly, watching you as you try to calm yourself. 

“Since my heat.” You say, voice rough from crying. You wrap your arms around the bear again, holding onto it tightly. 

“You haven’t said anything about it.” She says gently, shifting slightly so she’s facing you. 

“I didn’t want to.” You say quietly, shame burning through you. She’s not reprimanding you, yet you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. “I shouldn’t be having them, I mean...it’s not even that bad compared to...compared to what the others have gone through. The kinds of nightmares they have.” 

“It might seem that way to you, but trauma is still trauma. It might not be the worst thing someone else has gone through, but it is the worst thing you’ve been through.” 

Her words give you pause. You’ve never quite thought of it that way. The kinds of things your pack does, the things they’ve seen, the things they’ve done, are far worse than anything you’ve experienced. The things you’ve experienced may pale in comparison, but they’re your experiences. No one else’s. 

“If you want to talk about them, that’s what I’m here for.” Dr. Keller says, leaving things open for you to decide what to do. 

You don’t have to tell her. She won’t force you to do it. She won’t force you to do anything, to say anything you don’t want to. It might be nice, though, to let someone know, someone neutral, someone who won’t tell anyone else. It might be nice to finally put into words the things that are eating you, have been eating you. 

You lay back down, curling up into a tight ball on the couch. You hug the bear close to your chest, letting it ground you. “My nightmares, they’re always about the day I left for the institute.” You start, taking a shaky breath. “I haven’t had them in years.” 

“You were sent early after your presentation, right?” She asks. 

“The day after.” You answer. 

“Being sent to an institute can be traumatic when done within the normal time after presentation. I can’t even imagine what being sent that soon was like.” She lets out a breath. “Sometimes when we go through something traumatic, the brain and body hold onto it, because we don’t feel safe enough to process it in the moment. The brain can hold onto it for years, until we finally feel safe enough. Then the brain can start to try and heal from that trauma without us even realizing it.” 

“You think that’s what’s happening?” You ask. 

“It’s possible. Going through your heat successfully, being claimed, building close bonds with your pack, all could aid in helping you finally feel safe enough to process that trauma. Things usually feel worse as the brain works through the trauma, which could be why you’re having nightmares about that event suddenly.” 

“Is there anything that will make them stop?” You ask. 

“There’s some things we can do together that might help the process. I’m more than happy to help you with it, if that’s what you’d like to do. If you decide to, I think it will be a good idea to set up appointments at least twice a week, at least at first.” 

“What are we gonna tell John?” 

She gives you a look. “Well, I’d advise telling him the truth. I think you should tell your pack about your nightmares. They can at least offer you some comfort and understanding. Of course, that’s entirely up to you and what you want to do.” 

You let out a sigh, getting comfortable on the couch again. Dr. Keller adjusts the blanket over you, squeezing your arm gently. 

“Think about it.” She says. “We can talk about it more after they get back and things have settled back to normal again.” 

You’re brushing your teeth when the call comes. You quickly spit into the sink, not even bothering to rinse your mouth before you’re answering, anxiety twisting your stomach into knots. You hadn’t even checked the screen to see who was calling. You’re just anxious to hear from someone after days of silence. 

“Hello?” 

There’s a beat of silence before the voice on the other side responds, the audio distant and slightly garbled, but you hardly notice. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” 

You fight back a sob, your inhale shaky as relief floods through you. “Alpha.” The title slips through your lips before you can even catch it, your body nearly vibrating at hearing John’s voice after so many days. 

“I’m here. We’re all here.” He says, distant voices sounding in the background. 

A smile tugs at your lips, happy tears blurring your eyes as you collapse on your bed. “Missed you.” 

“I know, we’ve missed you too.” 

You move to your bed, flopping down on the mattress in relief. “You alright? Is everyone alright?” 

“We’re alright. Few bumps and bruises, but nothing we haven’t had before. How are you holding up?” 

The urge to spill the truth to him is strong. You’ve been depressed and worried and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that you haven’t panicked about something. You’ve been having horrible nightmares and haven’t been sleeping. There’s an ache in your chest that won’t go away, and you’re afraid it might kill you if you don’t see them soon. 

“I’m alright. Sad cause I miss you a lot.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” There’s a sound on the other end, something you can’t make out and the line buzzes for a second. For a moment you’re worried you were disconnected, but John’s voice cuts through the noise again. “We’re finishing up here soon, and we’ll be home in a couple of days.” 

You can’t help but sigh in relief at his words. They’re alright. They’re all safe, and they’re going to be home soon. You’re going to get to see them soon, touch them again, smell them again. “Hurry back.” You say, your voice shaky with emotion. 

“We’ll try, sweet girl. We have to get going, but we’ll be back before you know it.” 

Saying goodbye doesn't hurt as much as you expect it to. Maybe it’s the relief from hearing their voices, from knowing they’re really alright paired with the knowledge that they’ll be home soon. Two days doesn’t seem so far now that you know that’s all that stands between you and seeing your pack again. 

You roll over in your bed, pressing your face into the pillows. Nothing smells like them anymore. Not their shirts that they scented before they left, not your pillows or stuffed animals. The couch in the rec room, and even John’s bed have started to smell more like you. 

The first thing you’re going to do when they return is get a big whiff of each of them, even if you have to tackle Ghost to do it. You want to refresh their scents all over everything, roll around in them until they’re the only thing you can smell. 

For the first time in days, you manage to sleep that night. It’s not much, but it’s a deep, nightmare-free sleep, aided by the relief from the constant anxiety that has plagued you. 

You update Dr. Keller the next day on the news of your pack’s imminent return. You elect to spend the afternoon in the barracks instead of her office, the building suddenly not seeming quite so empty now that you know they’re coming home soon. You clean up John’s room, making his bed again after you’d made a mess of it trying to sleep. They’re all going to be tired when they return, and you want to help them in any way that you can. You pick up your room as well, even though you know you likely won’t be spending much time in it for a while. You’re going to latch yourself onto them and not let go until the ache in your chest has disappeared. 

You bristle when the knock sounds at your door. You glance up from where you had been sorting the clothes you’d stolen from the guys from your own so you can get them to scent them again. You’re not expecting a knock yet. It’s too early to be Dr. Keller coming to get you for dinner, and she would have announced herself like she has been, if it was her. 

That means someone else is in the barracks. Someone you don’t know. 

Your mind races as you try to think of who it could be. You don’t know many others on base, and certainly no one that would enter the barracks just like that, unless it’s an emergency. Is there an emergency? You’re almost certain if there was an emergency on base, then there would be alarms going off or something. There’d be some sign that something was happening, but it’s quiet outside, or at least, there’s no noises you’re not expecting. 

The knock comes again, louder and sharper. Whoever is on the other side is obviously not going to just go away. You debate calling Dr. Keller, telling her someone is outside your door, getting her to help you on this, but instead you grab your phone, holding it in your hand as you move towards the door. 

You unlock it, holding your hand on the handle in case the person on the other side tries to force their way in. They don’t, so you open it slowly, just enough that you can see out. There’s a soldier outside your door. A woman. You don’t recognize her, but then again you don’t see many women on the base, and you don’t pay much attention to the other soldiers. 

Maybe you need to start paying more attention. 

She’s a beta, you can tell just by looking at her. She’s wearing scent blockers, keeping her scent from projecting into the barracks to erase the fact she was here. 

She says your name, staring at you with hard set eyes. “General Shepherd is waiting for you.” 

It takes you a moment to process what it is she’s saying. You’ve never met any of the higher ups on base. The person with the most authority you’ve met is John, but you know he’s only a Captain. There’s others above him, but you weren’t any concern of theirs, so you have never bothered to meet them. Even in your time with the CIA, the person with the most authority that you met seemed to be Kate. You hadn’t even been given names of anyone higher up than her. 

Apparently something’s changed. 

Something in the back of your mind begins to tingle. Something isn’t right about this. You should have called Dr. Keller, or even Kate. You shouldn’t have opened the door so recklessly. 

“But, I’m not supposed to-” You begin, unsure of what to do now. 

“It’s a direct order from your superior.” The woman cuts you off, her tone sharp and impatient.

You’re not a soldier. The only superior you have is John and he’s certainly not behind this. 

You wouldn’t dare say that out loud. Not right now. 

“Okay, okay.” You say, stepping back slightly from the door. “Let me just get some shoes on.” 

You close the door, staring down at your phone. You debate calling Dr. Keller or even just sending a text, but you don’t put it past the woman outside to barge in if you don’t hurry. You can feel the panic rising, the thought of someone invading your space so carelessly making the back of your neck tingle. So instead you slip on a pair of shoes, shoes you know you can run in, before you open the door again. 

She’s still standing in the hallway, stiffly at attention. Her gaze pierces into you, making your skin crawl. You close your door behind you, slipping your phone into your pocket. She doesn't say anything as she turns on her heel, walking down the hallway towards the door. You follow behind her, having to walk quickly to keep up with her. You’re reminded of your early days on the base when you would be escorted around by Ghost. 

You’d take those times back over this right now. 

Your palms start to sweat as you leave the barracks, dread starting to fill your stomach as you realize how much of a mistake you’ve made, leaving with this stranger. She could be taking you anywhere to see anyone. You’re not even sure General Shepherd is a real person. 

The thought of being led blindly into a room of alphas like a lamb being led into a den of hungry wolves nearly makes you panic, your steps faltering just slightly as you debate running. You could make it to the medical center quickly from here if you sprint the entire way. Would she chase you if you took off running? Would you get in trouble? Would the guys get in trouble if you did? 

You don’t want anyone to get in trouble. 

Especially not with this being the first time you’ve been on your own. They’ve put a lot of trust in both you and Dr. Keller in their absence. If you get into trouble while they’re gone, that might change things. You could ruin everything you’ve built by misbehaving. 

The woman leads you to a building you haven’t been in before, leading you down a clinical-looking hallway to a door. She pauses in front of it, turning to face you. You stare at her, still on edge. What if this is a test? What if they’re testing you to see if you’d just blindly leave with a stranger while they’re not there to protect you. 

You’ve made a big mistake. 

The woman holds out her hand, and you stare down at it dumbly. “Your phone.” 

You continue to stare at her hand for a moment, trying to swallow the nervous panic rising within you. You don’t have much of a choice now but to obey. Your hands are shaking as you pass your phone over, the woman pocketing it before she opens the door. 

It’s bright inside, the LED bulbs burning your eyes. You’re uncomfortable and uneasy, a dangerous mix for an omega, but the person inside doesn’t seem to care. He stands from his seat, towering over you. He screams alpha before his scent even hits you. You’re thrown back into the memories of your father, the way he carried himself, the way he stood. Back straight like a rod, hands clasped behind his back, face pressed into a stern line. 

He’s in uniform, decorated with more patches and pins than you could put a name to. Army, you think, judging by the color of his jacket. It looks like General Shepherd is a real person after all. 

You try not to flinch as the door clicks closed behind you, sealing you in this room with an unknown alpha. Though it’s only one, you still feel like the helpless lamb standing before a hungry wolf. 

No one will hear you scream. No one will care. 

“My name is General Shepherd.” He says, his voice gruff and laced with authority. “I am the acting commander of Task Force 141.” 

You’re not sure if you should say anything, or even bother introducing yourself. He probably already knows you well, even though you’ve never met him before in your life. 

“I was one of the driving forces behind the omega initiative, and I decided the 141 should be one of the first to participate. I also signed the approval for you to be assigned as their omega, did you know that?” 

You shake your head. “N-No sir, the CIA didn’t give me any names.” 

“Good.” His lips twitch in what you assume was supposed to be a smile. It doesn’t ease your nerves any. “They weren’t supposed to. I’m sure you’ve learned that confidentiality is everything in this line of work.” 

“Yes, sir.” You try not to flinch under his gaze, piercing and probing. The back of your neck is tingling, every single instinct in your body screaming at you to run, to escape, to get somewhere safe. 

“I came here today to ensure your pack was doing as they were instructed. I’m impressed with what I’ve seen so far. You’re getting along well with them?” 

You nod again. “Yes, sir. There were some...bumps along the way, but we all get along fine now.” 

“Good.” He closes the file on the table, taking a step closer to you. You fight the urge to take a step back, not wanting him to invade your space while you’re so vulnerable. “The success of this program is imperative to the future of the military and its functionality. You’re doing important work here with the Task Force.” His hand lifts, slowly pulling the collar of your shirt to the side so he can see your mating mark. 

You fight the urge to lift your hands and wrap them around the back of your neck, the instinctual urge to protect yourself nearly winning out as he stares at your mark. Your heart is pounding in your chest, the fear-driven adrenaline making your fingers tremble. Half a second and he could scruff you, half a second and he could overpower you. 

No one would know. No one would care.  

“I’m satisfied with what I’m seeing so far. Of course, the true measure of success will be their efficiency in their current task.” He steps back away from you, moving back to the table. “How have you been adjusting to them being gone?” 

“It’s been difficult,” You say, breathing for a second to collect yourself. “But I know separation can be a rough adjustment at first.” 

His lips twitch again in a twisted smile. “You’re a smart girl. That’s why I chose you for this position. You’re doing good work. Your efforts will change the course of military history, hopefully for the better.” 

Something about his words don’t sit right with you. 

You’re trembling as you exit the room, led out by the woman that had brought you to the building. Your breaths are heavy as you try to keep a grip on the anxiety threatening to overtake you. Your hand is trembling uncontrollably as she give you your phone back, your knuckles going white as you clutch it to your chest. You’re sweating, the cool air chilling your skin as you step outside. 

You barely remember the walk back to the barracks, numbly following the woman as she leads you back to your safe space. It doesn't feel so safe anymore, now that she’s breached it. She entered without permission, breaking that trust that’s so sacred to packs. 

She doesn't even seem bothered by it. 

She pauses outside the door to the barracks, staring down at you. You fight the urge to race inside and lock yourself in the safety of your room before she can change her mind and enter again, or take you somewhere worse. You stand your ground, meeting her gaze. 

“Thank you for your cooperation.” She says, as monotone as she had been the first time she spoke to you. 

You finally realize what it was that made her seem so off to you as you think over her words. 

She’s American. 

“Thank you for escorting me.” You say politely, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Have a safe trip home.” 

You quickly enter the barracks, speed walking down the hall towards your room. You want to burrow under your covers and hide until the guys return and you can feel safe again. You pause in front of your door, staring down at the handle. The back of your neck is prickling again, anxiety burning hot in your veins. Your hands have begun shaking again, clinging to the phone still pressed against your chest. You fight the urge to hyperventilate as you stare at your door, half of your brain telling you to run and the other half stuck, staring in shock and disbelief. 

Your door is ajar. Open just a crack, just enough to be noticeable by looking at it. 

You always close your door. You always ensure it’s shut every time you leave the barracks, even when the guys are home. You remember shutting it before you followed the woman out of the barracks. You remember distinctly listening to the click of the handle as you pulled it shut behind you in the quiet of the barracks. 

You stare at the gap, the line of the frame visible. It’s open. Your door is open. 

Someone was inside your room. 

Taglist:

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

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

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

@daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph

#call of duty fic #fic recs

[blahehblah]

the ending hit me like a ton of bricks. that hurt my feelings so bad

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 16: Big Brown Eyes

Summary: Things have returned to normal, or at least they seem to have. Nothing can ever go your way, though, can it?

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7925 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, oral sex, face sitting, grinding, spanking (it's like once and not even on the ass), Kyle is definitely a munch, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, reader is a little shit, angst, PTSD, nightmares, trauma, mommy issues, family issues, language, the author's bias showing just a tad.

A/N: Have you ever cried while writing smut? I have. Had two mental breakdowns during the course of this chapter, the worst of the two during the smut scene. Sobbing while writing the reader getting her back blown out? That's a new one for me. But, I did it. I finished Chapter 16 this week. I'm feeling significantly better than I was, at least physically. Giving it to you a day early because I feel bad about not posting last week. The events of this chapter pick up pretty much where the previous one left off. Timeline wise, this chapter is spread over roughly a week-ish. And special thanks to the battle rattle anon for inspiring part of this chapter 🫶

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(This is my all time favorite gif of him I swear I stare at it way too much)

You’re clawing at the door frame, desperately clinging to the last thing you can hold on to, the last shred of your life as you know it. You fight the hands pulling at your arms, threatening to pull you away from the comfort, the warmth, the safety of your home, of your pack. 

Your mothers grief-stricken sobs reach your ears, her cries of desperation as they rip you from her, your father’s hate filled gaze directed at you over her shoulder as he holds her back. She loves all her children, but you were always her favorite. The bond between you two was always the strongest. 

Now you know why. 

The arms rip you from the doorframe seconds before the door slams closed. It’s like a gavel strike declaring your fate, cutting you off from everything you knew. You’re pulled back from the door, from the house that had become your safe space, from the pack inside. 

They’re not your pack anymore. The thought is like a sharp knife, severing the lifelong bond in your mind. You’re not a part of them anymore. You’re alone in this world, cut off from what you knew, and it’s all your fault. 

If only you could have presented as an alpha, like you were supposed to. 

You’re sobbing, breaths coming in choking gasps. Your chest feels tight, your body tense and aching as you fight against the constricting hold around you. 

“Easy, easy.” A deep voice murmurs in your ear, your senses beginning to return. “Yer alright, kitten.” 

Your breaths continue to come in shaky gasps as you start to recognize your surroundings. You’re in Johnny’s room still. His arms are wrapped tight around you, your own pinned against your chest. You had fallen asleep before you even realized it, exhausted after your night with Johnny. 

“Ye were havin’ a nightmare.” He says, projecting his natural beta scent in an attempt to get you to relax. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, letting the scent start to numb your brain. The tears continue to slide down your cheeks, but slowly your breathing begins to normalize. Johnny begins to loosen his hold around you, not letting you go, but enough that you don’t feel like you’re being constricted anymore. 

“Si gets them too.” Johnny continues, speaking quietly. His breath is warm as it fans your ear, reminding you that you’re awake now, and your nightmare is behind you. “Woken up tae elbows and fists in my face many times.” 

You keep your eyes closed, taking in deep breaths as Johnny lays with you in silence, his fingers gently stroking your arms. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. You hadn’t meant to have a nightmare. Not in front of them. You knew it would happen eventually, but you had hoped you could avoid it as long as possible. 

You don’t want to reveal your weakness, your pain, your inner struggle to them. They have enough of their own, they don’t need to know how broken you are too. 

You lay there, slowly calming your breaths and the slight tremble in your limbs as you wait for Johnny to begin questioning you. He’ll want to know, he’ll want to hear what it is that’s plaguing your mind. You’ll have to tell him, you’ll have to explain everything and then he’ll want to know more. He’ll want to unearth the brokenness and the pain that you’ve buried so deeply like an archaeologist looking for the secrets of an ancient civilization. 

You don’t want to reveal it, you want to bury it again, lock it back in the recesses of your mind where it can’t hurt you. You want to compress it back down until you feel safe again without the threat of the past hanging over your head. 

Johnny continues to relax his hold around you as you begin to calm down again, the tears finally slowing to a stop. You take deep breaths, trying to match Johnny’s even breathing behind you. You wait for it, the inevitable question, the prodding, the digging. He’ll want answers, he’ll want to know what plagues your mind, how much it’s been happening, why you haven’t said anything. 

You’re not sure how much time passes as you lay there, counting breaths. It’s silent in the room, in the barracks. Even outside it’s quiet, as if the world is holding its breath, waiting patiently for the shoe to drop, for the truth to get revealed. 

You can't wait any longer. The tension is too thick, the thought of waiting for the question to break the silence is too much. You'll rip the bandaid before he can try and force it from you. “I don't-”

“Ye don't have tae tell me.” He cuts you off before you can even start, the words slicing through yours, stopping you from spilling your darkest, innermost thoughts. “We all have them sometimes. No shame in that.” He tightens his grip on you for a moment, pulling you closer against his chest. “Simon doesn't even tell me all of his. Thinks he might scare me off, or somethin'. I'm no’ gonnae force ye to tell me anythin’ if ye don’ want to.” 

You're taken aback by his words. You suppose they all have to be plagued by nightmares of their own, with the kinds of things they have to see when they're in the field. Ghost had told you a bit about the nightmares that haunt him, and that had only been one tragedy, one mission. You suddenly feel silly. The kinds of things you’re afraid of, the nightmares that terrify your mind suddenly seem inconsequential to the things they must dream about at night. 

You wiggle in Johnny’s arms until you’re facing him, his eyes half closed as he stares down at you. You shift forward, pressing your face against his bare chest. His head tucks so his chin rests against the top of your head as he holds you, his breathing slowing just slightly as he drifts back to sleep. You don’t sleep, laying there awake as you listen to the slow, rhythmic beating of Johnny’s heart. 

He’s snoring quietly, breath fanning across your hair as he sleeps peacefully. You let your fingers trail over his skin as you wait for his early alarm that will signal the end of your quiet moments of bliss, snapping you both back into your realities. You trace the scars lining his skin, all of them with their own stories, just like John’s. 

He makes a garbled, snorting noise as your fingers brush over his ribs, his entire body twitching. His hand moves, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. “Tickles.” He murmurs, lifting your arm so it’s draped around his neck. He's asleep almost immediately, as if he hadn't woken at all from your tickling. 

You continue to lay there as he sleeps, your mind drifting between sleep and your racing thoughts until Johnny’s alarm goes off. He groans, reaching across you to turn it off. He lays still, breath still fanning over the top of your head. For a moment you’re worried he’s fallen asleep again, but eventually he moves, rolling on top of you. 

He presses his face against your neck, letting out a quiet groan. He’s heavy, but a solid weight above you. It’s comforting, the weight of him like a blanket keeping you safe. He presses gentle kisses against your neck, his fingers trailing across your shoulder before brushing over your mark. You let out a whine, arching against him. 

“Screamin’ Jesus.” He curses, getting hard against your thigh. 

“Don’t you have to go work out?” You ask as he begins to grind against you. 

“Would rather stay here with you.” He growls against your throat. 

“Won’t you get in trouble?” You gasp, bucking up against him. 

“Worth it.” He grunts, kicking the sheets off the end of the bed. 

“Someone missed the morning workout.” Kyle says as you and Johnny sit down at the table for breakfast. You’re the last ones there, despite Johnny skipping his early morning workout. 

You take your normal spot between Kyle and John, sitting gingerly on the hard bench. There’s still a distinct ache between your thighs from Johnny’s enthusiasm and intense stamina last night and this morning.  

“Aye, don’t worry. I still got a good workout in.” Johnny says cheekily, winking across the table at you. 

You’re afraid you may combust as the other three pairs of eyes at the table look at you. It’s no secret what you were doing last night, or this morning. Johnny, as in most aspects of his life, is loud in bed. Kyle had known you were going to, and so had Simon, but you find your gaze turning to John as your face warms. 

You’re not quite sure what you’re expecting as you look at him. It’s not like he had forbidden you from pursuing relationships with the others, or even shown any distaste at the idea. You were open to love the other members of the pack, just as they did one another, just as he did. 

His face is stoic as he stares at you, before it begins to lighten, a gleam shining in his eyes. “Did he take good care of you?” He asks, the corner of his lips twitching. 

You swallow thickly, your face getting warmer as you nod. “Yeah.” 

“Good.” John grins. “ Then I suppose I can forgive him for sleeping in this morning, so long as it doesn’t become a habit.” He casts his glance across the table. 

“I’m a bad influence.” You say, spooning porridge into your mouth. 

“Certainly worth the trouble, though.” Johnny says, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Especially when you do that thing with your tongue-”

Johnny’s words are cut off with a pained yelp as Ghost kicks him under the table. “Don’t go spilling all her tricks.” He grumbles, eyeing the tables around you. 

You think your face might be permanently warm at the thought of anyone nearby hearing the topic of your conversation. Of course they know, but hearing about it was something entirely different. 

Kyle walks you back to the barracks after breakfast, your hand in his, fingers laced together. His thumb rubs the back of your hand absentmindedly, shoulders brushing as you walk. Neither of you say anything, but you don’t have to. Unlike Johnny, Kyle is happy to exist in silence. They’re so very different, despite both being betas. 

Your brothers had often joked about betas being boring, and how glad they were that neither of your parents were betas. You’d disagree now, after spending some time around betas. They’re just as complex as alphas and omegas, in their own ways. 

Boring was the last thing you’d describe Johnny as last night. 

Kyle holds the door for you as you enter the barracks, following you down the hall. You stop in front of your door, your hand pausing on the knob as Kyle leans in close to you. 

His chest presses against your back, breath fanning your ear as he speaks. “Can’t wait to find out about this trick you do with your tongue.” 

Your face warms again, your heart thudding in your chest as you turn to look up at him, tongue darting out to wet your lips. “You could find out right now.” 

Kyle’s lips lift in a smirk as he leans in closer, trapping you against the door. “I’d love to, but I don’t think the Captain would be quite so forgiving if I skipped out on this training.” 

You stare up at him, lost in his big brown eyes. “Soon?” 

He smirks, leaning down to kiss you. “Of course. Just say the word.” 

He leaves you there with your heart thudding in your chest, your stomach churning in excitement. You’d be more than willing to go that extra step with Kyle right at this very moment, but the subtle ache between your thighs thanks to Johnny is a good reminder why you should wait. You want to enjoy your time with Kyle.

You know it will be worth the wait. 

“How have you been?” 

You shrug, sinking back into the plush chair. It’s warm in the office, a stark contrast to the cold downpour outside. “Fine.” You answer, running your hands over your jeans. “Tired.” 

“Oh?” Dr. Keller raises an eyebrow at you. “Have you not been sleeping well?” 

“I’m...having a hard time falling asleep.” You say. It’s not entirely a lie, but it’s not the whole truth. 

“Why do you think that is?” She asks, writing something down. 

Your palms begin to sweat. You hadn’t planned on going into too much detail about this with her, but you knew she’d likely notice and remark on your tired appearance. “Been thinking too much.” 

“About what?” She probes, staring at you. 

You know you don’t have to tell her anything. What you share is up to you. Yet, you can feel the words bubbling up, threatening to spill over before you can stop them. “My family.” You say, releasing some steam from the boiling pot inside you. Tears burn your eyes, threatening to fall as you continue. “Especially my mom. I miss her a lot sometimes.” 

“You had a close bond with her.” Dr. Keller says. It’s not a question. 

You nod. “The closest out of all of my siblings.” You snuffle, wiping the tear trailing down your cheek. “Makes sense why.” 

“Sometimes we have traits or behaviors that show before we present that hint at our possible status. Having a stronger bond with one parent over another, especially in mixed status packs, can signal what one might present as.” Dr. Keller says. “Were you the first omega to present in your pack?” 

You nod. “Yeah. My older brothers were alphas, and I don’t know about my younger siblings.” 

“That could all contribute to a strong bond with your mother.” Dr. Keller leans back in her seat. “I’m assuming you haven’t had any contact with them since the institute.” 

“Not since I was taken from home. The institute didn’t support keeping those connections with previous packs and...I don’t think they would have reached out anyway.” You say, picking at the fabric of your pants. 

“What makes you say that?” Dr. Keller asks. 

You pause, not sure you want to open that bag of worms. If anyone is safe enough to do it with, you know it’s going to be Dr. Keller. She won’t judge you, she won’t think you weak or silly for having such thoughts, such fears. She doesn’t care how broken you are. You’re not part of her pack. She’s an outsider, a doctor above all. 

“Well, they did send me to the institute, didn’t they?” You finally say. 

Dr. Keller hums, staring at you for a moment before she drops her gaze to her notebook, writing something down. “I suppose you have a point there. Hypothetically, if you were given the chance to, would you want to talk to them again? It’s not uncommon for omegas to seek out their previous packs and families after they leave the institute.” 

Your stomach twists at her question. Even if it is only hypothetical, you had existed for years in the institute thinking you’d never get to see or hear from your family again. They were behind you, lost to you. They wouldn’t accept your attempts to reach out to them, even if you knew where they were. Even after leaving the institute, you knew the chances of seeing them again or even just hearing from them was almost none. You have a new pack now, your old one doesn’t matter. 

That’s just the life of an omega. 

Would you want to? In this hypothetical world where this question exists as a potential option, would they even answer if you called? Would they accept an invitation to see you again, if they were given the chance? Could your father feel regret after all of these years for what he did to you? 

“I...” You frown, tears pricking your eyes again. “I don’t know.” 

“That’s okay.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s a complex situation. If you ever wanted to, though, I’m sure they could make it happen.” 

Your gaze snaps to hers, the shock at her words clearly written on your face. Of course they probably could. It was their job to hunt down hard to find people, and with the CIA at their backs, you’re certain they could track down your family easily. Would they do it for you, if you asked? Would they allow you to have that connection with your old pack while still being part of theirs? 

“Most people keep some form of contact with their family, even after they move on to their own pack.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s not unusual, even among omegas. Just something to think about.” 

“Do you still talk to your family?” You ask her, partly out of curiosity. 

“I do.” She smiles. “I talk to my parents pretty regularly, and my older brother occasionally. He’s involved in this world too. He was in the Army originally, but now he does whatever it is he does.” 

You’re surprised by her answer. Not so much that she still talks to her family, but that she’s familiar with this world. It makes sense, how easily she existed in it, beyond just being a professional. “Do you think it had something to do with you being chosen for this position?” You ask. 

“Most likely.” She grins. “Laswell probably wanted someone who is at least a little familiar with this world, but also someone she knew would work well with you.” 

“I think she made the right choice.” You say. It’s the truth. You like Dr. Keller. You trust her. You’ve grown comfortable in her presence and you look forward to your appointments with her. It almost makes you feel bad for withholding the truth from her. 

“Good. I think so too.” She says. “So, did anything exciting happen this week?” 

You chew on your lip nervously, your hands disappearing into your sleeves as your face warms a bit. “Johnny and I...had our first time together.” 

“Oh?” Her eyebrows raise. “And that’s something you wanted?” 

You nod. “Yeah. I’d like to get close to all of them, well, as close as Ghost will let me get.” You bite your lip again. “Ghost...gave me some pointers on how to handle Johnny. It worked. He...let me take control. I liked it.” 

“Nothing wrong with that.” Dr. Keller says. “I think it’s great that you’ve discovered this about yourself. I know omegas are so used to being controlled in society. I think it’s great that you’ve found a place where perhaps you can take a little control back.” 

She’s not wrong. Your entire life has been dictated for you, controlled by someone else. The baton of control was just continually passed from your father, to the institute, to the CIA, and now to John. Though John has granted you the most freedom of everyone that’s held control over you, there’s still requirements for obedience and submission to him. You’ll never be your own person. That’s just the way society works, and you’ve come to accept that. 

Yet, you’ve never felt quite so powerful as you did in bed with Johnny, when you’d gripped him by the mohawk like Ghost had instructed you to. When you saw the change in his eyes as you took over, controlling him, telling him what to do. You liked it, exerting control over someone else for a change. He just let you do it. It still sends a thrill down your spine at the thought of the possibilities, the things you can do now that you’ve discovered this part of yourself. You’d never show it in public, but behind closed doors...

The book was right. Perhaps omegas can be powerful. 

“What are we doing?” You ask, staring up at John as he straps a tactical vest onto your body. 

“We’re doing an exercise, and you’re going to help us.” He answers, double checking the vest before putting a helmet on your head. “Think of it as hide and seek mixed with tag.” He finishes strapping the helmet to your head, taking a step back. “How does it feel?” 

“Heavy.” You feel weighed down with the vest and the helmet.

“You’ll get used to it.” He says with a smile, guiding you towards the door of the warehouse. 

It’s dark inside, nearly pitch black except for the light coming in from the open door. There’s fake walls set up in front of you, with space just in the middle like a sort of hallway that disappears into the darkness. 

“Your job is to get from this side of the warehouse, to the other without getting caught.” John says. “No weapons, just you trying to evade us and get to the other side while we try and catch you,” John lowers the goggles on the top of the helmet, the world coming alive in shades of green around you. “And night vision goggles. Be smart about it. Understood?” 

You nod, looking around with the goggles, trying to adapt to using them. “Yes, sir.” 

“Good. You have a thirty second head start. Use it wisely.” 

He leaves the warehouse, closing the door behind him. You’re left in complete darkness, with no sound but a fan running somewhere, probably to dampen any sounds that might echo. You stand there for a moment, trying not to breathe too heavily, as it might echo in the warehouse. You stare at the door behind you for a second before you begin to move forward, the adrenaline starting to pump. You have to get to the other side of the warehouse before they catch you. Are they working together or individually? What kind of strategy will they use? What strategy will you use? 

You begin to pick up speed, running until you reach the end of the first hallway. It splits off in both directions, and you hesitate for a moment. Be smart about it. You don’t have many advantages in this situation. They’ve done this before, both in training and probably in the field as well. They’re highly skilled soldiers, trained to hunt down people in all sorts of environments, sometimes with nothing more than their scent. 

Scent. 

Of course. 

You take off down the right hallway, following it as it twists and turns like a maze. A giant maze. There’s so many hallways, so many places to run, but not many to hide. That’s not the point, though. You have to get to the other side of the warehouse before they do. You have to track your way through this maze without getting caught by four special operations soldiers. 

Simple enough. 

You pause at a corner, undoing your vest so you can slip your sweatshirt off. You’re just putting your vest back on when the door opens, bathing the ceiling with light for a moment. It’s started. They’re inside. You can’t hear anything over the hum of the fan, and that’s almost more terrifying to you than if you had been able to hear them. The adrenaline is pumping now as you toss your sweatshirt in the corner before quickly backtracking and heading a different direction.

You try to keep your breathing quiet as you weave through the maze, doubling back and touching the walls every so often to try and leave your scent behind and confuse them. You take deep breaths through your nose as you go, trying to catch any whiff of them, any sign that you might have crossed their path or be getting close to them. They’ll reach the same area of the maze as you’re in eventually, sooner rather than later. You need to start pressing forward. You’re not just evading them, you have to reach the other side before they catch you. 

You slip around a corner, pressing up against the wall as something moves behind you. You hold your breath, quiet footsteps passing by your position. Your hands are shaking from the adrenaline, the instinctual fear of being hunted rising in you. You take a couple of quiet deep breaths, slipping your shoes off to grab your socks before slipping them back on. You peek around the corner, finding nothing. 

You toss one of your socks in the corner before doubling back, pausing as you cross one of their scents. Johnny. You recognize the citrusy tang in the air. Christ, you’ve never heard him be that quiet before. You continue on, your heart racing in your chest as you carefully weave around corners, slipping through hallways. They’re close to you now. They could be around any corner. 

You pause as you cross the scent of leather and musk, something prickling in the back of your mind. It’s a fresh scent. You pause for a moment, looking in the direction he went before slipping around the corner. You still have your other sock clutched in your hand, knuckles white as you grip it tightly. 

You should be nearing the end. The warehouse isn’t that big, even with all the doubling back and dodging you’ve been doing. You toss your other sock in a corner haphazardly as you decide to stop doubling back and go for the exit. You have to try and get ahead of them, as well as find your way through the maze to the exit door. 

Simple enough. 

Except, you have no idea which direction the exit is, or which direction you’re heading. You could be going backwards for all you know. You weave through the halls, around the corners, focusing on finding the end of the maze. 

In your concentration you fail to notice the scent, weaving through the halls mindlessly as you attempt to reach the end of the maze. You pay for it as the sound of boots on the concrete floor rushes up behind you. You let out a startled shriek of surprise as your feet leave the floor, your body ragdolling over someone’s shoulder. 

“Got her!” He yells out, weaving around a couple corners before light floods the warehouse, making you wince. 

Your squint as your feet hit the ground again, the night vision goggles lifted from your face. Your nose crinkles as you stare up at Kyle’s smug face, his lips pulled up in a smirk. 

“No fair.” You pout. “I was so close!” 

“You were, but you got sloppy at the end there.” He says, undoing the strap of your helmet to help you take it off. You’re sweaty underneath it, hair sticking to your forehead. You’re glad you ditched your sweatshirt now. 

“Not bad.” John says, exiting the warehouse, Ghost and Johnny following. “Nice strategy.” He says, tossing your sweatshirt to you. 

You shrug, hugging it to your chest. “Had to think fast with what I had on hand.” 

“Running around with no socks on too.” Ghost says, holding up your socks. 

“Left you a little present. You can keep them if you want.” You smirk. 

“Don’t want your nasty socks.” He grumbles, tossing them to you. 

“That was fun.” You say, grinning up at them. “Like being hunted.” You don’t miss the quiet rumble in John’s chest at your words, his eyes darkening just a bit. “Can someone help me out of this now though,” You say, reaching for the velcro straps on the vest. “It’s squishing my boobs.” 

The TV is playing some show, but you're not really paying attention. You haven't been, not for a while now. Your adrenaline had still been pumping a bit after your participation in the exercise earlier, putting you on edge the rest of the day. It had been a bit thrilling, the idea of being hunted like that. You can understand now how omegas enjoy being hunted, beyond just the inevitable end. 

The thought of that being how the exercise ended, all four of them at once, out where anyone could see you...your skin begins to prickle as heat blossoms in your veins. Kyle would get to take you first because he won, he caught you so easily. Would John go second, or would he allow the other members of his pack to go first? Ghost would be rough, taking you from behind, hands bruising on your hips. Your teeth sink into your lip as you imagine him over you, a position you often found yourself in during your training with him. He's just so big, so strong. They all are. 

You won't be able to control yourself during training if you keep going down that thought path. 

John would be gentle, piecing you back together after the others have had their way with you. He'd take care of you, like a good alpha, dragging one more orgasm out of you after you think you can't anymore. 

You let out a shaky breath, trying to calm your scent. You're stinking up the rec room with your fantasies. You turn your head to look at the TV, trying to focus on what's happening on the screen in an effort to distract yourself. 

It doesn't work, the subtle dampness between your thighs ever present on your mind. You have half a mind to get up and seek out Kyle, but like a miracle he appears in the doorway of the rec room. You see his nostrils flare, the lift of his shoulders as he inhales. He can smell your arousal, the spike in the sweetness of your scent. You have no doubt about that. He doesn't say anything, though, instead he approaches the couch silently, kneeling at the end. 

He settles himself on top of you, resting his head on your chest. He lets out a breath as he settles, keeping some of his weight off of you, but he's still pressed against you like a weighted blanket. You fight the urge to shift beneath him, to press your hips up against him, to seek any ounce of relief for the warmth between your thighs. 

You're not sure he's watching the TV either as he lays there, relaxed over you. Your fingers trail patterns across his back, gliding over his soft shirt. He's in blue today, one of your favorite colors on him. He looks good in anything, the perks of being pretty, but blue is one of your favorite colors on him. 

It's silent between you for a while, Kyle relaxed above you while you fight to relax beneath him. If he’s affected at all by your scent, he hides it well. You have half a mind to ask him to take pity on you, to slip his hand beneath your sweatpants and ease the ache between your thighs. He had said whenever you wanted it. All you have to do is ask. 

You shift slightly beneath him, lifting your hand to his head. “Kyle?” You ask, gently trailing your fingers over his scalp. He'd gotten his hair buzzed recently, the curly strands shorter than normal. 

He hums in response, the sound rumbling through your body from where his head rests on your chest. When you don't reply right away he lifts his head, blinking up at you with those big brown eyes. 

“Kiss me?” You ask. 

Your heart starts to race as he pulls himself closer to you, his body dragging against yours. His eyes dart to your lips before they look back into yours for a moment. He leans down, slipping his arms underneath your back as he closes the gap between you. His lips are soft against yours, his kisses gentle and controlled as he holds you like you might break in his grasp. 

“Kyle?” You murmur against his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck. 

He hums again in response, pulling away just slightly to stare down at you. 

“‘M not gonna break.” You say, dragging your nails over his scalp again. “Kiss me like you mean it.” 

His lips twitch in a smirk before he leans down, pressing his lips hard against yours. It’s a searing kiss that nearly steals your breath away. His tongue prods at your lips, and you part them to allow him in. He tastes like the tea he had been drinking after dinner, rich and earthy with a hint of sweetness from the sugar he added. You moan softly into his mouth as his tongue flicks against your own, your thighs squeezing around his waist at the thought of that tongue between your legs. 

He smirks against your lips as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking, his body shifting over yours so he can press one of his thighs between your legs. You move instinctively, your hips grinding against his thigh. Finally you're getting some friction, some relief from the ache. 

“Fuck.” He breathes, pulling you tighter against his chest. “That’s it.” He groans, pressing his thigh harder against your grinding hips. “Gonna cum on my thigh, just like that?” He nips at your jaw, trailing kisses down the line towards your neck. “Haven’t even touched you yet.” 

You try to muffle your moans as you continue to grind against his thigh, the friction on your clit pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “Kyle?” You gasp out, gripping the back of his shirt. “Gonna fuck me on the rec room couch?” 

He lifts his head from your neck, staring down at you for a moment. “Fuck, you’re right. Your room or mine?” 

“Yours.” You say, hanging on for dear life as he scoops you up off the couch, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

He walks you to his room, carrying you the entire way. He kicks the door shut, beelining for his bed. He drops you down on the mattress, your body bouncing as he hastily peels his shirt off, revealing an expanse of smooth skin marked here and there by scars. You immediately reach out, trailing your fingers over his skin. It’s just as soft as it looks, your fingers trailing the lines of his muscles. 

His hand flattens over yours as it reaches his chest, pressing it into his warm skin as he leans down, kissing you again. His hands slip under your thighs, lifting you and switching your positions so he’s seated on the bed, and you’re in his lap. 

“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He says, looking up at you. 

“I think it’s been mentioned before.” You say with a shrug, smiling down at him. 

“It’s the truth.” He says, slipping his hands under your shirt. “Deserve to hear it all the time.” 

“Bunch of handsome men complimenting me constantly?” You say, lifting your arms over your head so he can remove your shirt. “Can’t complain about that.” 

“Luckiest men in the world.” He says, smoothing his hands across your back as he presses his face into your throat. “Pretty little omega.” 

You shiver as his teeth nip at your skin, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. You arch against his chest, pressing yourself closer. There’s a bulge in his pants, a shiver of pride running through you at the thought that you did that to him. You elicited such a reaction from him. 

“I never properly thanked you.” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“For what?” He asks, staring up at you curiously. 

“For taking such good care of me during my heat. Couldn’t have been easy, seeing me like that, knowing you couldn’t even touch me.” You grind your hips against his, his teeth sinking into his lip as you grind against his bulge. “Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself while thinking about me?” 

“Too many to count, love.” He groans, leaning his forehead against yours. “Sounded so sweet, getting ruined by our alpha.” 

“Been so patient, waiting for this.” You gasp, still rocking in his lap, the wetness between your thighs intensifying from the friction. “Tell me how you want me.” 

“Sit on my face.” He growls, pushing you off his lap so he can lay down on the bed. 

You shove your pants and underwear down your legs, fighting the urge to be bashful. Kyle has already seen you at your most vulnerable, been up close and personal with your most private parts. Yet, it feels different like this. More intimate, and less of a necessity. 

You take his hand as he offers it, letting him guide you to kneel over his face. You grip the headboard as you hover over him, his hands settling on your hips. 

“Wait-” You say, before he can pull you down onto his face. “What if I suffocate you?” 

“Then I’ll die a happy man.” He says, tugging you down onto his mouth. 

You let out a gasp as his tongue drags through your folds, already soaked from his teasing. His tongue flicks across your clit, eliciting a quiet moan from your lips. Your hips jerk when his mouth closes around your clit, suckling at it with a lewd smack of his lips. 

“Fuck!” You gasp, grinding your hips against his face as he continues to tease your clit, drawing patterns on it with his tongue. 

You’re close already, your legs trembling around his head. He holds you steady, keeping you still above him as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it harshly. Your knees attempt to squeeze around his head as you cum, soaking his face with a cry. He continues to lap at your folds, licking up every last bit of your release before he finally lets you move off his face.

You drop to the side, staring down at him as you try to catch your breath. He licks his lips, his face shiny with your juices. He reaches a hand over, tangling his fingers in your hair as he pulls your face down to his, kissing you. You moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue and lips, already starting to get wet again. 

Kyle wraps his arms around you, flipping you onto your back under him. He hovers over you, the bulge in his pants very visible, even from this position. 

“Sweet little omega.” He says, nipping at your lips. “So fucking perfect.” 

“Kyle,” You gasp, pulling him down into a kiss. “Need you.” 

“I got you.” He soothes you, pressing another kiss to your lips before he sits back on his knees between your legs, staring down at you. He drags his fingers through your folds, still just as slick as they had been before your orgasm. “So fucking wet.” He groans, hastily undoing his belt and pants, kicking them off the end of the bed. 

You stare at him in awe, his cock just as beautiful as he is. Long and thick, curved just slightly. You can’t help but ogle him as he wraps a hand around the base, squeezing it. He’s hard, raging hard, the tip leaking precum already. He really has been so patient, waiting for this. You almost feel bad making him wait so long, but he had agreed to be patient, if only to keep Johnny from making everyone’s lives miserable with his pouting if he didn’t get to go first. 

It’s only fair that you let Johnny go first too, considering Kyle will likely be the one you spend the most time with. It’s only natural, thanks to your bond with John. Kyle’s your beta, just as much as John is your alpha. You’d like Johnny to be your beta too, but you know without that bond with Ghost, it’ll never feel quite the same as it does with Kyle. Regardless, you’ll continue to treat Johnny as if he was your beta. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Kyle asks, watching you as you get lost in thought.

You truly do it at the worst possible times.

You lift your gaze to his, staring into those big brown eyes. “Just waiting on you to hurry up and fuck me.” 

You let out a yelp as Kyle’s hand smacks your inner thigh, the sound cracking through the room. 

“Don’t get cheeky now.” He warns, rubbing the spot on your skin that’s quickly turning warm from his smack. “Just making sure you’re alright.” 

“Fine.” You say, spreading your legs further for him. “Be better if you finally fucked me.” 

Your laugh is broken by a moan as he drags his head through your folds, his hand falling to grip your waist. 

“That needy for me, huh?” He asks, teasingly pressing the tip of his cock into you before pulling back. 

“Just worried you might not make it since you’ve waited so long.” You gasp, trying to move your hips to take him deeper into you, but he pins you with the hand on your hip. 

“Careful what you wish for.” He says, the warning clear in his tone. You handled Johnny just fine, you can certainly handle Kyle. 

You hope. 

He finally takes pity on you, sinking his cock deeper into you. You moan at the stretch, flopping back on the bed as you try to relax around him. He rolls his hips in short thrusts, sinking deeper and deeper as you open up to him. You reach for him as he sinks even further into you, his body folding over yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, staring up at him as he seats himself completely inside you, hips pressed flush against yours. 

“Hi.” You breathe, getting lost in his soft gaze. 

“Hi, love.” He grins down at you, fingers brushing your cheeks as he leans on his elbows above you. “Doing alright?” 

You nod, squeezing around him. “Yeah. Feels good.” 

“Good.” He says, leaning down to kiss you. “Been waiting so long for this. Feels better than I imagined.” 

You let out a quiet whine, clenching around him again. The thought of him imagining this, trying to picture what you’d look like, what you’d feel like while he waited patiently for his turn has your body burning hot. You shift your hips below him, causing him to move inside you. 

“Kyle?” You breathe, shifting again. “Please move.” 

“I got you, love.” He smiles down at you, pulling his hips back before slowly pressing forward again. 

Your head falls back as he moves, keeping his pace slow and languid. Heat burns through your veins, your very nerve endings alive as he slowly rolls his hips into you. Something thrums in the back of your mind, the mark on your shoulder almost tingling as you stare up at him, your fingers trailing over the mark on his shoulder, a mirror of the one on your own. A shudder runs through him as your fingers brush the scar, his lips parting in a low groan. You clench around him at the sight of such unbridled pleasure on his face, pulling him closer against your body.

He drags your pleasure out as he makes love to you, slow and passionate and deliberate with every movement. You know you won’t last much longer, the sensations beginning to overwhelm you. 

“I’m close.” You breathe into Kyle’s ear, pressing kisses across his neck. “Don’t stop.” 

“Gonna cum for me?” He groans, keeping his thrusts steady. “Gonna let me see that beautiful face as you come undone for me?” 

Your back arches as you cum, pushed over the edge by his words. Your nails bite into his shoulders, but he offers no complaint as he continues to roll his hips into yours, working you through your orgasm as he chases his own. His pace picks up slightly as he gets closer and closer to the edge, your eyes on his face, wanting to watch him now. 

“Your turn.” You breathe, still trying to catch your breath from your orgasm as you clench around him. 

His head tilts back, lips parted in a deep moan as his hips jerk. His cock twitches inside you, his thrusts getting sloppy as he cums. You trail your hands over his back, sinking your teeth into your lip as you watch his face morph into complete bliss. You’ve never seen anything quite so beautiful. 

He collapses on top of you, just managing to keep his weight off of you thanks to his elbows planted on the bed beside your head. You continue to rub his back, fingers tracing the smooth, sweat slicked skin, only pausing to trace the scars that you find. Kyle presses soft kisses to your face, slowly trailing lower across your jaw and neck. He presses a kiss to your mark, a shudder running through you. He lets out a groan as you clench around him, shifting so he’s face to face with you again. 

“Give me a minute.” He says, slipping out of you as he presses a kiss to your lips. 

“Tired already?” You ask cheekily. 

“No,” He says, kissing you again before slowly sliding down your body. “Just need a minute to catch my breath. Besides,” He settles between your thighs, pressing them open so he’s face to face with your pussy. “I’ve got a mess to clean up.” 

You stand outside the door of John’s office, brows pulled into a frown. You have a feeling you already know what he’s going to say, yet your mind keeps reeling, coming up with the most fantastical ideas as to why you were summoned to his office in the middle of the day. It’s weird that he’s in his office in the middle of the day. Usually they’d be off training, but he’d pulled them all into a meeting this morning after breakfast, one that had gone into your usual lunch time, and then they hadn’t gone to train after you finally got to eat. 

“Come in.” 

Your hand pauses on the handle as you hesitate, almost as if you could prevent what’s going to happen by just not going in. It’s a ridiculous thought. Avoiding this will only likely get you into trouble. 

You step into the office, the air inside different from any of the other times you’ve been in his office. John’s face looks grim and focused behind his desk, and it’s not hard to tell you’re not facing John right now, you’re facing Captain Price. 

You take the seat across from him at his desk when he motions to it, trying to fight the tears threatening to brim in your eyes as you stare at him. You won’t cry. You knew this was going to happen eventually. You knew going in what was going to inevitably happen. You had been well prepared for this part of your new reality, yet you don’t want to acknowledge it now that you’re staring it in the face. 

“I know you’ve likely already figured out what’s going on.” He says, his voice gruff and deeper than normal. 

You can see it in his face. He’s fighting his own battle with having to tell you. You hadn’t expected it, to see him struggle with it. He knew it as well as you did. He knew it better than you did, and yet, you can see the turmoil behind that focused gaze. 

He lets out a sigh as he continues, hands closing into fists on his desk, his tone almost apologetic. The words sting despite the fact you had known they were coming, despite the fact you had expected them when you walked into the office. “This morning we had a debrief for a new assignment. We’ll be leaving tonight. All four of us.”  

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#call of duty fic #tf 141 x reader #fic recs

[blahehblah]

THIS HURT ALL MY FEELINGS OKAY I STARTED TEARING UP IN THE DOCTORS OFFICE SEND HELP

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 14: The Aftermath

Summary: Your heat is over, now all that's left to do is heal.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz

Word Count: 5100 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, fluff, angst, nightmares, PTSD

A/N: Surprise!! Got this one done super early because I kind of just want to move forward with this fic and get to more exciting things so enjoy this bonus chapter. This weekend's update might come a day late, we'll see. Not entirely happy with this one, but it's really just setting up the next part so...yeah. Enjoy!!

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

(Gif found on Google)

A rumbling purr vibrates in your chest. It’s a purr of contentment, of satisfaction. You’re warm, not like you had been nine days ago when your heat started, though. This is a comfortable warmth, a cozy warmth. You’re under blankets in your nest, pressed against a bare chest. You trail your fingers along smooth skin until you hit a familiar scar slicing through the skin, right below his clavicle. 

“Got that one outside a bar in Manchester.” 

You pause in your movements, tilting your head to look up at John. He’s staring down at you, his own fingers starting to trace a pattern on your back. 

“Was years ago. Some bloke was getting rowdy inside. Pulled him out to try and talk him down, and he pulled a knife on me.” 

“I can imagine what you did in response.” You murmur, laying your head back on his chest. 

John huffs out a laugh. “Left him with a couple missing teeth, and quite the dent in his head.” He smooths a hand over your side. “You feeling alright?” 

You hum in response. Your eyes feel dry and puffy from crying, and you’re terribly thirsty. You’re beginning to feel the ache in your body again, the steady pulse of pain between your legs starting up. “Hurting again.” You murmur, smacking your lips. “Kinda feels like I swallowed sand too.” 

“Almost time for another muscle relaxer.” He says, glancing at his phone before grabbing an electrolyte bottle from the nightstand. 

You push yourself up to sit, joints cracking as you go. You let out a quiet whimper at the ache in your body, eyes filling up with tears again. 

“Easy.” John tries to soothe you, brushing the hair from your face. “You’re alright.” 

“Sorry.” You sniffle, taking the electrolyte bottle. “It’s embarrassing.” 

“It’s not. It’s just a natural part of coming down from a heat.” John says as you gulp down the contents of the bottle. 

“My mom cried after her heats.” You say, putting the cap back on the electrolyte bottle. “I heard her once, when I was like seven or eight. My dad had picked us up from the care center on base. I wanted to see my mom, but their bedroom door was closed. I could hear her inside, crying alone. My dad scolded me, sent me back down the hall when he saw me. It never felt right to me, that she was in there alone like that, but maybe things are different when you have pups.” 

“I don’t think it was right.” John says as you lay back down against his side. He’s tense, limbs stiff even as his arm wraps around your back. 

“There were a lot of things my dad did that I questioned.” You say absentmindedly, tracing circles on John’s stomach to try and calm him. “Maybe it was just that inner part of me that knew I’d be an omega that made me notice it more. My brothers never said anything, but then again, they all presented as alphas.” You shift against John’s side, tucking your head so he can’t see your face. “Maybe I was just unlucky.” 

He grunts, squeezing your shoulder gently. “You can’t control what nature decides.” 

“Can’t control a lot of things.” You say quietly as he tightens his hold around you. “Suppose I am lucky in one regard.” 

“What’s that?” He asks. 

You shift yourself so you’re facing him, tears sliding down your cheeks again. “You’re a really good alpha.” 

He pulls you against his chest again, pressing your face into his neck. “I don’t know if I’d call myself that.” He says, gently stroking your hair. “Just treating you the way you deserve to be treated.” 

“You treat me like I’m a human being.” You sniffle, wetting his skin as you cry. “That’s better than I’ve been treated since I presented.” 

You don’t see the way his brow furrows, the frown tugging at his lips at your words. You do feel the way he tenses for a moment, arms clenching around you before he relaxes again, a quiet purr rumbling through his chest as he soothes you. 

“I haven’t left your side since your heat started.” He says, taking your hand in his. 

“Really?” You ask, brows pinching a bit at his confession. 

He hums. “Except to use the bathroom.” 

“You must be sick of me by now.” You say. 

“Never.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re my sweet little omega. Could never get sick of you.” 

You let out a soft purring noise, the sound slipping through your lips before you even realize it. Your eyes widen and you push yourself up out of Price’s neck in surprise. “I’ve never made that noise before.” 

Price smiles softly at you, reaching up to stroke your cheek. “Just means you’re happy.” 

“Hmm.” You lay yourself back down against his chest, resting your ear over his heart. You suppose you are happy. 

Or, at the very least, content.

Standing hurts. 

Your legs feel a bit like jelly and your muscles ache deeply. It’s been almost five days since your heat ended, and yet you still feel like you just ran a marathon with no training beforehand. You know part of it is that you’ve been laid up for almost a week, but after that kind of physical exertion, you needed rest. You had only gotten up to stumble to the bathroom a handful of times, leaning heavily on John to avoid straining your muscles anymore than they already were. 

You should get up and start moving now, though. It will help with the stiffness, you know, and you should get the blood flowing at least a little. 

You’re also starting to go a bit stir crazy cooped up in your room all the time. You can only rearrange your nest so many ways, and you’ve even started to kick John out of the nest, opting to cuddle with your giant bear instead. 

You've showered, finally feeling properly clean for the first time in almost two weeks. You dress yourself, opting for the loosest clothes you own, and forgoing underwear. You’re not sure you can handle anything too tight on your skin yet. 

“Ready?” John asks, standing near the door. 

You nod, putting on your slippers as he opens the door. Arms wrap around you as soon as you step out into the hallway, your feet leaving the floor. 

“She lives!” Johnny exclaims, spinning you around. 

You grunt at the impact of the excited Scotsman, but wrap your arms around him anyway, taking in his citrusy scent. You have missed him, not realizing how boring life would be without him until now. You’ve even missed Ghost a bit, his looming presence making the world seem a little less big. 

“Easy, Johnny.” Ghost scolds the overjoyed beta. “She’s still breakable.” 

“Sorry, kitten.” Johnny says, immediately setting you back on your feet and loosening his grip around you. “Missed ye, is all.” 

“I missed you too.” You smile up at him. 

“Thought ye might never be comin’ out of that room.” He says. “Thought I might have tae go in and save ye.” 

You smirk. “You almost had to. Was starting to feel a bit stir crazy in there.” 

He grins playfully at you. “Well, yer more than welcome to spend the night elsewhere if yer sick of bein’ cooped up.”

“She's definitely not going to be doing any of that for a while.” John says, stepping up behind you. “R&R is the only thing on her schedule right now.” 

Johnny pouts. “But what if I just want tae cuddle?”

“Since when do you ‘just cuddle’?” Ghost asks. 

“I can just cuddle.” Johnny pulls you against his chest again, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “I'll do it for our ‘mega. I’ll prove it right now.” Johnny pulls away from you, steering you towards the rec room. 

“I’ll keep an eye on them.” Ghost says to Price, giving him a look before turning on his heel, following you and Johnny to the rec room. 

Johnny flops down on the couch, pulling you into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around you. You lean against his chest, breathing in his scent again. It’s refreshing, after being stuck in a room with the same scents. You could never grow tired of Price’s scent, but when it’s all you’ve been able to smell for an extended period, you start to get tired of it. You remember nearly tackling Kyle in an attempt to get a whiff of his scent, but the sting of scent blockers had nearly brought you to tears again. 

You let out a quiet sound as Johnny tilts his head, letting you breathe in his scent directly from the source. You start to purr quietly, nose pressed against his throat. An answering rumble begins in his own chest, his arms tightening even more around you. 

“Smell good.” You murmur, your lips brushing his skin. Goosebumps erupt across his neck, a shudder trailing down his spine. 

“Easy, mutt.” Ghost grumbles from the chair beside the couch, his eyes on you and Johnny. 

“Cannae help it.” Johnny almost whines, trying to ease you away from his neck. He grips your chin as your head lolls, a drowsy smile forming on your face as you blink up at him. “Christ, yer gettin’ scent drunk.” 

“Missed you.” You murmur, your brain quieting to a soft buzz as you lean your head on his shoulder, listening to the quiet rumble in his chest. 

“Missed you too.” He says, his hand dropping from your face. His fingers ghost over the mark on your shoulder, making you twitch in his arms. “Cannae believe yer officially part of the pack. Seems like just yesterday ye were arriving, all shy and timid. Now look at ye. Purring away on my lap with Price’s mark on yer shoulder.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, a reminder of just how quickly things have changed. It’s only been almost seven weeks since you arrived in their lives. How quickly things have happened, how quickly things have changed. Though, you suppose things could have happened faster. You’re lucky they gave you so much time to adjust. Many alphas would have started the process as soon as you were in their sights. 

They’re not like that, though. They’ve turned your beliefs on their head and changed your perspective entirely. Alphas can be good and caring and don’t just always take what they want. 

You sniffle as tears pool in your eyes again, Johnny looking away from the TV to stare at you.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He asks, sounding worried. 

“Nothing.” You say, pressing your face against his shoulder. “I’m just crying cause I’m happy.” 

“I know, this is probably the last thing you want to be doing right now.” Dr. Keller says from the end of the exam table. “But, unfortunately, it is necessary.” 

You’re silently glad for the numbing spray, the pressure still enough to make you wince, but you can’t even imagine the kind of pain you’d be in if you weren’t numb. You wonder how many omegas have to go through this without it, how many are subjected to the horror without any sort of pain relief. 

“And we’re done.” She says, pulling away. “Everything looks good, no tearing or other injuries.” She pulls her gloves off, John helping you lower your legs from the stirrups. “Though, I’d suggest abstaining from any rigorous physical activity for at least another week.” 

Your face warms at the implication of her words. You’re not sure you’d want to anyway, at least not for a while. Aside from the soreness, after six days of near non-stop...activity, you might shrivel up and die if you see a naked man again anytime soon. 

“Do you feel up to chatting today, or would you rather go back to bed?” Dr. Keller asks as John helps you sit up. “Won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t want to.” 

You think about it for a moment, chewing on your lip before you answer. “We can talk.” 

She nods, smiling. “Aright. Take your time, I’ll be in my office when you’re ready.” 

She leaves the room, leaving you and John alone. You move slowly as you get dressed, still a bit sore and stiff. John walks you to the door, wrapping his arms around you before you can enter, pulling you against his chest. 

“Call me, if you need anything.” He says. 

You nod, staring up at him before you lift yourself onto your toes to kiss him. He purrs quietly when your lips touch his, his arms tightening around you for a moment before you pull back, staring up into his eyes for a moment before you turn away, heading into Dr. Keller’s office. 

You take your usual seat, silently grateful for how comfortable the chair is as you sit down. You’ve been avoiding sitting as much as possible, having spent the last few days lounging in bed with John and occasionally Gaz. 

“Comfortable?” Dr. Keller asks. 

You nod. “Yeah. Think this is the most comfortable chair I’ve ever sat in.” 

“Good.” Dr. Keller smiles. “You tell me if you get uncomfortable or if you want to end early, alright?” 

You nod again. “Yeah.” 

She nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “So, how are you feeling, aside from the discomfort? Your first heat with your pack, being claimed, that’s a lot all at once.” 

“It is a lot.” You acknowledge, picking at your sweatpants. “I’m still...I don’t know, processing it, I guess? It’s...a big step, but it was always going to happen. That’s why I’m here, right? To be their omega, to be part of their pack.” 

“That is true.” Dr. Keller agrees. “As much as I could say about it, you are right. This was the end goal of this entire experiment. But, how do you feel about it? Are you relieved that it’s over?” 

“Yeah.” You answer. “I’m glad that it’s over, that it’s done with. I...guess I feel lucky too.” You chew on your lip nervously. 

“In what way?” Dr. Keller asks. 

“John’s a...good alpha. I think I knew that before, but...he took care of me. He didn’t hurt me, he’s never forced me into anything.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They’re all good pack members. Even Ghost.” 

“Good.” Dr. Keller smiles. “I’m glad you feel that way. John is a fantastic alpha. He cares a lot about you and your wellbeing.” 

“He treats me like I’m more than just my status. I feel like...like I’m a person again. Not just something that can serve others. I used to think that's just what omegas were supposed to do. At the institute, that's what we were taught. How to serve. But, I can see now how we do so much more than that.”

Dr. Keller practically beams at you. “That’s great! That’s so great that you’re beginning to discover your place in their pack. I think it will get easier, now that you’re official.” She nods towards your shoulder where your claiming mark now sits. 

You fight the urge to reach up and touch it, curling your fingers around the fabric of your sweatpants instead. It doesn't hurt anymore, other than slight soreness if you lay on that shoulder after a while. The scabs are beginning to come off, revealing the scar that will decorate your skin for the rest of your life, showing proof of your place in Price’s pack as his omega. 

“Do you feel different, being a claimed omega now?” Dr. Keller asks. 

You do feel different. Not just because you're a claimed omega now. There's something else, a sort of connection now that you've never experienced, even with your family. You don't know how to describe it, except for a slight buzzing in the back of your brain that only seems to quiet when you're near John. You don't really notice it until you think about it, and then you can't get it quiet until you're near John again. 

“Yeah.” You finally answer, trying to ignore the buzzing feeling in your brain. 

“The bond,” Dr. Keller says with a grin. “Hard to describe, so I've heard. I've also heard it lessens in intensity with time. Has anything else changed? Any feelings?” 

You shrug. “I guess I feel...better about being here. It’s still not ideal but...I feel happier.” 

“Yeah? Good.” Dr. Keller writes something down. “That makes me glad to hear. You’re getting along with everyone?” 

You nod. “Yeah. I’ve been getting closer to Kyle and Johnny. I know they’ll want to progress our relationships after I’ve healed a bit.” 

“Is that something you want?” 

You nod. It is something you want. Kyle has already seen you in your most vulnerable state, and you know Johnny has been anxiously awaiting his time. You’d even consider getting closer to Ghost, though, that would be entirely up to him and what he wants. You know getting closer to Johnny will inevitably force you and Ghost closer, but you won’t push the alpha’s boundaries. 

That will only end poorly for everyone. 

John is awake instantly as soon as the knock comes at the door. He calls for them to enter, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he stares blearily at the computer screen in front of him. Simon’s giant form approaches the desk, sinking into the chair across from him. 

“Getting caught up?” Simon asks, looking him over. 

John nods. “Slow progress. Hard being out of commission for six days.” 

“Well, you didn’t miss much excitement. Laswell called a couple times. Kyle talked to her.” 

“That’s what he said.” John leans back in his chair. “Checking up on our girl.” 

“Sent over some things that might interest you as well.” 

“I see that.” John says, glancing at the email in his inbox. One of several hundred unread emails. 

“You look tired.” 

“Think I’m getting old, Simon.” John says, running a hand over his face. “I don't remember things being this rough, coming out of it.” 

“I’ve heard purebreds are different.” 

John gives him a look. “Thank you for holding down the fort.”

Simon shrugs. “Things are going to get difficult now.”

“We have a job to do, above everything else. That was something we knew from the start.” John says. 

“Things were different then.” Simon says. “It's going to be a struggle.”

“We knew that too.” 

“I'm not talking about the omega.” Simon's voice lowers, taking on the low rumble of Ghost. “I'm talking about you.”

John's back stiffens as he stares at his Lieutenant. “This doesn't change anything.”

“It changes everything.” Simon stands from his seat. “Just how much, we won't know until we're in it.” He turns, making his way towards the door. 

“You think you're immune?” John says, making him pause by the door. 

“No. But I've been keeping my distance for a reason.” He turns the handle on the door, turning to look back at John. “One of us has to have a clear head.”

John watches as the door closes, something tickling in the back of his mind. He sighs as he sinks back in his seat, eyes moving to the computer screen and his hundreds of unread emails. 

He closes the browser, shutting down the computer, staring at the screen until the hum of harddrive quiets. His skin is prickling now, thinking back on Simon's words. Of course things have changed. It would be no different had they added a fifth person to the team. He knows leaving will be hard, but they have a job, a duty to perform. That always comes first above all. 

Can he make it come first after this? 

He remembers how different things had felt after he claimed Kyle. His decisions became safer, but his actions became riskier to ensure Kyle's safety. It wasn't that he doubted Kyle's abilities. He knows Kyle is more than capable of taking care of himself. That's why he's on the team. It was his instincts needing to protect his pack, to ensure his beta's safety. 

What is he going to do now that there's an omega involved? 

You won't be going with them, you won't be in the field, but they'll have to leave you behind. It could be weeks before they'd see you again, if they see you again. 

The thought has a sick feeling churning in his stomach. 

Maybe Simon is right. 

Maybe things have changed too much. 

John rises from his seat, his joints cracking. He stretches, groaning quietly at the ache still present in his muscles. It's faded for the most part, but he can still feel it if he's immobile for too long. It's not the worst pain he's ever felt, but it's hard to think of a time he's felt worse. 

Maybe he is getting too old for this. 

He pauses outside Kyle's door, staring down at the knob. He feels bad for what Kyle had to go through the last almost two weeks. He knows it's a natural part of pack life, a natural role for betas, but he still feels guilty. 

“Everything alright?” Kyle's voice breaks through his thoughts. The door is open now. Kyle standing there in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. 

He hadn't even noticed the door open. 

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “It's nothing. I don't want to bother you.”

“You're not bothering me.” Kyle gives him a worried look. “Just got out of the shower. You can come in, if you want.”

His feet are moving before he even thinks about it, Kyle closing the door behind him. He sinks down into Kyle's desk chair with a heavy sigh. 

“What's on your mind?” Kyle asks, grabbing the jar of coconut oil off his dresser. 

“Too much.” John answers, looking up at him as he approaches. “Everything's going to change now.” 

“Yeah,” Kyle says, setting the jar on his desk before scooping some out. “Things change all the time. We learn and adapt to them. That's what we do.” 

John watches him rub the oil on his face and neck, watching the movements of his hands. He's right. Always the voice of reason and logic. They were trained to adapt to anything. It was their job. They had adapted to your presence easily enough, they could adapt to this new development too. 

It would take time, but they could do it. 

“You're right.” He says, staring at Kyle's glistening skin. He wants to be the one to rub the oil onto his perfect skin, feel the softness of it under his hands. “Thank you. Thank you for everything. You've been a great help through this.” He stops Kyle from grabbing more coconut oil, grabbing some himself. “I owe you a lot for neglecting you these last couple weeks.”

“You weren't neglecting me.” Kyle says, giving him a small smile as John starts rubbing the oil over his shoulders. “You were taking care of our omega.” 

A satisfied growl rumbles through John’s chest at his choice of words. “Now let me take care of you.” 

Kyle’s breath stutters as John moves behind him, rubbing oil onto his back before moving to his chest. His fingers brush over Kyle’s nipples teasingly, pulling a quiet groan from the younger beta’s lips. John leans against his back, slipping his hands down lower, feeling the ridges of his muscles pulled taught from John’s touch. His lips press a soft kiss to the claiming mark on Kyle’s neck, Kyle’s head falling back against John’s shoulder. John growls in approval at the submissive position, his fingers trailing the waistband of Kyle’s sweatpants. 

John gathers more coconut oil on his hand before he slips them under Kyle’s pants, spreading the soft oil across his skin. He’d chosen to forgo briefs under his sweatpants, Price’s hand brushing against Kyle’s half hard cock. 

“Fuck...” Kyle breathes, arching into John’s touch. 

“How many times did you jerk off to the sound of us this last week?” John asks, wrapping his hand around Kyle’s cock. 

“At first I didn’t,” Kyle says, pressing his hips into John’s hand. “Was too focused on making sure nothing went wrong. But then...” He lets out a moan as John begins jerking his cock. “Then I couldn’t take it anymore. The mental image of you two together, the sounds she was making...” Kyle lets out a groan, squeezing his eyes shut as John brushes his thumb over the head of his cock. 

“Wanted to be in there with us, huh?” John asks, hooking his thumbs over the waistband of Kyle’s sweatpants, tugging them down so they drop around his ankles. “Did you imagine yourself right in the middle, taking my cock while she takes yours? Or did you imagine yourself taking my cock while our sweet omega sits on your face?” 

Kyle lets out a moan, his arms reaching back to grip John’s hips as his legs shake with pleasure. John continues to stroke his cock, pressing a gentle kiss to Kyle’s shoulder. 

“We can make that a reality.” John says, squeezing Kyle’s cock, earning a sweet moan in response. “I’ll show you all the places to touch that get her riled up. I’ll show you just how she likes it, how to get her legs shaking around your head.” 

Kyle’s nails bite into his skin, but he doesn’t care as he continues to jerk his cock, getting him closer and closer to the edge. Price drags his thumb over the tip, spreading precum on his skin. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Price growls in his ear, pumping his cock faster. “Want to know what she feels like wrapped around your cock?” His teeth nip at Kyle’s ear, his beta’s lips parted as he moans loudly. “Want to know what she tastes like?” 

“Fuck...yes!” Kyle almost whines, hips jerking as he cums, spurting all over John’s hand. “Yes, yes, yes!” 

John works him through his orgasm, continuing to lazily jerk his cock as Kyle twitches in his hold. He presses his nose against Kyle’s throat, inhaling the intoxicating mix of sweat, coconut oil, and his natural briney scent. He presses a soft kiss against his mark, finally stopping his movements to allow Kyle to recover. 

“Good boy.” He praises his beta, wrapping an arm around him to help him to his bed. 

“You really mean it?” Kyle asks as he drops onto the mattress, catching his breath. 

“We’ll have to ask her, of course.” John grabs Kyle’s sweatpants, cleaning off his hand before tossing them in the hamper. He moves back to Kyle’s bed, joining his beta. “But if she’s up for it, then so am I.” 

You’re warm. The ice pack pressed against your forehead does little to soothe the burning under your skin. You’re thirsty, the two empty plastic bottles on your nightstand were not enough to ease the dryness in your mouth. 

Hands shift the ice pack, pressing it against your cheek. Your mother is there, seated next to your bed diligently. She’s crying, tears sliding down her cheeks, quiet sniffles breaking the silence in the house. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, bringing your hand to her lips. “I’m so sorry,” She apologizes, as if it’s her fault, as if she brought this onto you. 

She gasps quietly as the door opens, her back stiffening as your father enters. His face is stern, mouth almost twisted with disgust as he stares at you. It feels wrong, having him invade your space. If you’d had the energy, perhaps you would have been brave enough to protest his presence. 

“Come on.” His voice is gruff, worn down from years of smoking and yelling. “Get up.” 

“No, please-” Your mother attempts to reason with him, but he won’t have it. 

“Shut up.” He snaps at her, and she has no choice but to sit back and be silent. His voice has something tingling in the back of your neck, almost like a warning. There’s nothing you can do, though. You’re far too weak. 

He moves to the side of your bed, grabbing your arm and pulling you up from the comfort of your blankets. The ice pack falls from your head, your skin prickling with warmth almost like it hadn’t been there in the first place. Your brain is sluggish as you try to comprehend what’s happening, your legs giving out as you’re forced upright. You can’t get your body to work, you can’t even force yourself to behave. You want to crawl back under your blankets and lay there for the rest of eternity. 

You whine as you’re dragged from your room, knees knocking on the floor as you attempt to get your feet under you to ease the pain in your shoulder. Your father drags you into the living room, two people you don’t recognize standing next to the front door. 

“Please, please don’t do this!” Your mother pleads with him, right on his heels as he drops you in a heap in front of them. 

“Enough.” Your father snaps at her, looking down at you with disgust. “She’s no daughter of mine.” 

You blink up at him, the words registering through the haze. Tears gather in your eyes as you stare up at your parents, your siblings watching tensely from the living room as the scene unfolds before them. 

“No, no!” You cry as hands close around your arms, lifting you from the floor. “Mama!” You scream, trying to fight them as you’re pulled from your home, your safe space, your family, your pack. 

The last thing you see as the cool air outside washes over your feverish skin is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door closes, locking you out forever. 

You wake falling from bed. You hit the floor with a thud, gasping for breath. You slap your hands over your mouth before the sob can tear from your lips, not wanting to wake the others. You’re shaking, your heart thudding in your chest as tears slip down your cheeks, sliding over your fingers as they squeeze over your mouth, desperately muffling the sound. 

You hold your breath, forcing the pain and the panic and the grief back in. You can’t have these memories coming back to the surface, not now. Not when good things are finally starting to happen. Not when you’ve finally started to gain a glimmer of hope that things might turn out alright for you. You can’t ruin things now. 

You can’t let them see how broken you really are. 

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 fic #call of duty recs #fic recs

[blahehblah]

PLEASE I’VE ONLY JUST RECOVERED FROM THE LAST CHAPTER

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 11: It's Coming

Summary: Things have begun to shift in your developing relationship with your pack. Unfortunately, nature has the worst timing in the world. 

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Suggestive content, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, medical stuff, plenty of fluff.

A/N: I wrote like 90% of this chapter on my phone so please forgive any weird typos. I'm super excited for this one and this whole part really. Lots of good stuff coming up!!

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

At first you’re not quite sure what pulled you from sleep. You’re warm and more comfortable than you have been in a long time, despite the dull throbbing between your thighs. The pillow against your back shifts, a chill settling in as some of the warmth disappears. 

You blink your eyes open, squinting against the harsh blue light of a phone screen. Price lets out a quiet groan, swiping at something before settling his phone back on the nightstand in front of you. His arms wrap back around your middle, his face pressing into the back of your neck as he settles against you again. 

It was his phone vibrating that had woken you, pulling you from the gentle arms of sleep. It’s still dark out, far too early to be up and getting phone calls, especially on a Sunday morning. You wonder how often John actually gets to sleep, between his job and everything he does when he’s not away. You’re understanding the couch in his office more and more now. 

“Go back to sleep.” He murmurs, a quiet rumbling vibrating against your back as he purrs.

You don’t need to be told twice, snuggling down under the covers again, letting your eyes close. 

You wake a while later alone. It’s daylight finally, the sunlight coming through the window lighting the room. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling Price’s scent. It still smells a bit like arousal and sex in the room, both of your scents heavy in the air. They blend together surprisingly well, Price’s musky woody scent mixing with the sweetness of your own scent. It makes an intoxicating aroma of alpha and omega. 

Price comes out of the bathroom, slipping back under the covers. You curl up against his side, laying your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around you. 

“Morning.” He murmurs, voice heavy with sleep still. 

You hum in response, resting your head over his heart. 

“How do you feel?” He asks, his fingers trailing your bare back. 

“A bit sore.” You say, acknowledging the throbbing between your legs. “Not as bad as I thought I might.” 

Price huffs out a laugh. “It shouldn’t hurt, not if you know what you’re doing.” 

You hum again, the knowledge that he’s very experienced coming to the forefront of your mind. Even if it has been two years, you can imagine him when he was younger, the kind of experiences he must have had. Omegas and barrack bunnies and all sorts of women probably fawned over him. 

“You’re thinking too much.” He says quietly, eyes closed as he lays there with you. 

You’re starting to think he might be able to read your mind. 

“Can I ask you something? Something...personal?” You ask, tilting your head up to look at him. 

He cracks an eye open to stare down at you. “Don’t think you can get much more personal than we already are.” His lips twitch up in a smile. “‘Course, you can ask me anything.” 

“When was the last time you helped an omega through a heat?” You ask, listening to the steady thump of his heart under your ear. 

“Years ago. Well over a decade ago.” He says, voice still thick and raspy with sleep. He clears his throat, a hand settling on your waist. “Back when I was still a Sergeant. I had the idea back then of settling down, finding an omega and having my own pack. Had a few on and off relationships. Then I started getting sent off on more and more dangerous missions. I realized my skill set and my purpose, and gave up the idea of having an omega. I couldn’t stand the thought of putting them through that, if something happened to me. I’ve seen what losing an alpha does to an omega firsthand too many times.” 

A frown tugs at your brows as you lay there against his chest. You know the risk of them dying is high. The CIA had spent ample time warning you of that risk, telling you about how dangerous their lives are and how every assignment, every deployment, could be their last. They could be gone for weeks at a time, months at a time, and they could go and not come back. They know that every time they leave for an assignment it could be their last, and now you’ll be stuck behind knowing they might not be coming back. 

You’ve heard about omegas that have lost their alphas, how damaging it can be. It’s not something you’re taught at the institute. That’s not something you’re supposed to think about, something you shouldn’t have to think about. 

“What’s eating you?” Price asks softly, his finger stroking the pinched skin between your brows. 

You shift against his side, leaning more on his chest as you look up at him. “What if you don’t come back?” 

His smile is a bit grim as he stares up at you, his fingers trailing across your face. “I won’t lie and say that’s not a risk. There’s always a chance.” His fingers trail down your arm to rest on your hand where it’s pressed flat against his chest. “We’re here for a reason. We are the best at what we do.” 

He pauses as your hand moves, your gaze lowering from his as you trace one of the scars on his clavicle. You can only imagine what caused it. A knife? Shrapnel? Where was he and what was he doing when he got it? You might never be able to know all the details. So many secrets, so much you can’t know. 

John wraps his arms around you, easing you off his chest as he rolls you onto your back. You stare up at him as he hovers over you, his hand brushing stray hairs from your face. “Don’t worry too much.” He says, his finger trailing the line of your nose. “We always try our best to make it home. Now we just have an even greater reason to.” 

Your hand cups his cheek as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You hum against his mouth, pressing your body closer against his. You can’t help but smile against his lips as his cock hardens against your thigh. 

“Again?” You murmur against his lips, making him chuckle.

“Can’t blame me when there’s a beautiful omega naked in my bed.” 

Your face burns as he leans back down to kiss you, his hips moving against your thigh. Warmth spreads through your whole body from his scent thickening in the air, his arousal prevalent as he twitches against your leg. 

“John.” You moan softly, hands grasping at his back. 

You both pause as a door shuts in the hallway, the reminder that the others are just a thin wall away coming back to you. The moment is over as your stomach growls, also reminding you that you’ll need to eat eventually. 

John chuckles quietly, leaning up to press a kiss against your forehead. “Come on, let’s get the day started and get some food into you.” 

You frown a bit as he pulls away, cock still hard and angry looking as he stands from the bed. “John?” You call out, scrambling off the bed after him. “You’re just gonna...” 

“Give it a minute and I’ll be fine.” He says, moving to his closet. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

Your frown only deepens and you step closer to him, catching him as he turns around. You stare up at him through your lashes, wrapping your hand around his cock. He pauses, letting out a little groan as you squeeze him gently. 

“Let me help you.” You say, dragging your hand along his length. 

His eyes darken as he stares down at you, the pants in his hand dropping to the floor. 

Your face is still a bit flushed as you make your way to the mess. You’re hand in hand with John, dressed comfortably in one of his shirts and a pair of leggings. You can’t help but feel a bit bashful, as if they’re all going to know what you did, as if every soldier in the mess knows you and Price slept together last night. 

They’ve probably been thinking that since you arrived. 

Price leads you through the line, making your tray for you. You nearly beam with pride at him taking care of you, your omega preening with happiness as he carries your tray and his to the table. You take the spot next to Gaz as usual, still practically beaming. 

“Have a good night, love?” Gaz asks, smirking a bit at your pleased state. 

“Yeah.” You say, your face getting warm again at their stares. 

“Practically glowing, kitten.” Johnny says, winking at you from across the table. 

Your face flushes hotter and you quickly bury yourself in your porridge to avoid exploding at the breakfast table. 

“Sounded like ye had a great time.” Johnny continues. 

Christ, they probably heard the whole thing. You halfway want to sink down beneath the table to hide from their knowing stares. You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, not really. They’re your pack, and eventually you’ll be in the same position with them too. 

“Didnae know ye had it in ye, kitten.” Johnny continues. “We certainly enjoyed the show.”

You do start to sink down in your seat a bit, surprised steam isn’t rising off your skin from how warm you feel. Gaz’s hand on your leg stops you, his fingers squeezing your thigh gently. 

“Don’t pay too much attention to him, love.” Gaz gives you a reassuring smile. “He’s just jealous he didn’t get to go first.” 

“Am not.” Johnny whines, practically pouting. 

You can’t help but smile a bit at his antics. You know from how much he bragged about getting to be your first kiss that he probably was rather put out that John got to be your first. It would have been that way regardless, but you know you asking John before your heat changed things a bit. It would have always been John, though. 

It would have always been your alpha first. 

Gaz’s hand doesn't move from your thigh, holding its place there as you all eat, Johnny still pouting a bit. You know they’ll want to pursue that sort of relationship with you after your heat, but now that John’s removed the barrier of the first time as well, you can only expect them to up the teasing tenfold. A shiver runs up your spine at the thought of Gaz sliding his hand slightly higher, fingers slipping between your legs. 

You’re certain there has to be steam coming off of you now. 

Your thighs squeeze together, trapping Gaz's fingers between them as you continue to try and act normally. Gaz turns his head just slightly, side eyeing you as you continue to try and eat your breakfast as normally as possible. Gaz's grip on your thigh tightens, fingers digging into your skin. You fight the noise threatening to come up as he holds his hand there, continuing to eat his breakfast as if nothing is happening. 

You hold Gaz's hand as he walks you back towards the barracks, leaning against his side. His grip around your fingers is tight, not even the rain dampening the heaviness of his scent. It's deeper than usual, the musk of arousal tinging the edges. 

Your back meets your door as soon as you're back in the barracks, Gaz pinning you against the wood. Your own breathing is heavy as you stare up at him, his eyes dark as he meets your gaze. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?” He groans, leaning down to kiss you. It's far more passionate than you've ever kissed him before, his hands sliding down your sides to grip your waist. “Making all those sweet noises last night.” He breathes against your lips. “Haven't seen Price that relaxed in a long time.” 

Your face warms at his words, your hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt. He presses harder against you, pinning you against the door as his tongue prods at your lips. He tastes like the tea he drank with breakfast, herby and earthy. 

“Has us all worked up last night.” He groans against your lips. “Hearing you, knowing our alpha was treating you nice.”

He presses his forehead against yours, staring down at you. You meet his gaze, shivering under the intensity in his deep brown eyes. 

“Johnny bout cried he was so worked up.” Gaz's lips twitch in a smile. “Simon left for the gym bout halfway through, had to work out his tension.”

Your brows raise at the news about what Ghost had been up to last night. You figured he might join Johnny in his room, or perhaps head somewhere so he didn't have to hear you. Not that he would leave because he was being affected by you. 

“Johnny was being such a whiny little bastard. Had no choice but to take pity on him.” Gaz nips at your jawline playfully. “I fear he's going to be unbearable until he gets his chance.” 

“Well, he'll just have to wait his turn.” You say. 

Gaz laughs, kissing you again before he takes half a step back, leaning his arm on the door above you. “Any plans today?”

You shrug, still leaning against your door. “Might read, or nap. Maybe both.” You sink your teeth into your lip, reaching back to put your hand on the door handle. “You wanna come in?” 

Gaz's grin widens into a smile, his eyes practically sparkling. “Sure.”

You open the door, stepping into your room. It's a bit of a mess from you preparing for your date last night. You toss the clothes from your bed onto the floor haphazardly before pushing Gaz onto the mattress. He kicks off his shoes before making himself comfortable. You toe off your slippers, grabbing your book before joining him on the bed. He pulls you against his side, pulling his phone out of his pocket as you settle against his chest. A quiet content purr begins rumbling in his chest, easing the tension in your body as you relax against him. 

You stay like that, reading while cuddling Gaz, for quite a while. Your door is wide open still, the others coming and going as they do on the weekends. Gaz keeps your back to his chest, arm wrapped around his middle as he scrolls on his phone while you read. 

Slowly his head starts to droop until it's resting against the top of yours. You can feel the content sleepiness settling into your bones as well, the words on the pages starting to swim a bit. You mark your place, moving just enough to set your book on your nightstand before you curl up against him, letting his even breaths lull you to sleep. 

You jolt awake suddenly as Gaz's arms tighten around you, keeping you from flying off the bed. You blink open your bleary eyes, squinting at Johnny's grinning face inches from yours. His body is draped over both yours and Gaz's, a solid weight against you both. 

“C'mon ye lazies. Gotta eat lunch eventually.” He says, sounding far too chipper for a Sunday afternoon. 

“Fuck off mate.” Gaz says, shoving at Johnny's shoulder. “Was comfy.”

“Yer hogging the omega!” Johnny says, poking Gaz's side. He pushes himself up, scooping you into his arms and lifting you. “Some of us would like tae spend time with ‘er too.” 

You yelp at being lifted suddenly, wrapping your arms around Johnny's neck to hold on for dear life. 

“Well, maybe you just need to be a little bit faster.” Gaz says, standing from the bed. 

“I'm plenty fast.” Johnny almost whines. “Close to beating your time on the course.”

Gaz smirks. “I'll believe it when I see it.” 

You look back and forth between them as Gaz steps closer to Johnny, caging you between them. 

“And ye will see it.” Johnny says.

“Cheeky.” Gaz murmurs, closing the distance between them. 

You stare wide eyed as they kiss just inches in front of your face. It's all tongues and teeth, Soap's chest rumbling against your side as he purrs. A quiet whimper leaves your lips as you watch them, your body starting to get warm again. 

They break apart, both turning to look at you. Gaz's lips turn up in a smirk, Johnny's eyes sparkling. 

“Look at you, kitten.” Johnny smirks. “Ye like watching us?” 

You make another quiet noise, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. Johnny slowly lowers you until you're standing between them, Gaz not moving an inch as they trap you in a beta sandwich. Their bodies are warm and solid as you stand there, back to Johnny's chest. You can feel the bulge in his jeans pushing against your ass, Gaz's body a solid weight against your front. 

You can imagine it, naked between them, skin against skin with hands everywhere. A quiet purr begins in your chest, eyes dilating as you stare up at Gaz. He smirks down at you, leaning down towards you. He skirts to the side at the last minute though, kissing Johnny behind you. 

You can't see them this time but lord can you hear it. Johnny is still purring, the sound vibrating against your back. Gaz let's out a quiet sound, his hand dropping to squeeze your waist. 

Johnny pats your side before pulling away. “Should get ye some lunch.”

Your head is still spinning as Gaz hums his approval, stepping away as well. You stand there blinking for a moment at the sudden loss of contact, the sudden shift in energy. 

“C'mon, get yer shoes on, sunshine.” Johnny says. 

You move half in a daze still towards your bed, your body tingling a bit still from the many thoughts that had been racing through your mind. 

Something in the back of your mind begins to itch as you stare down at your bed. Your brows pinch in a frown as you stare down at the mess of blankets and pillows. 

It's not right. 

Your fingertips twitch as you stare at the mess in your nest, your mind taking over as you begin to rearrange the blankets and pillows. You forget you're not alone in the room as you fuss with the blankets until the itching begins to lessen a bit. You fiddle with the pillows, moving them around over and over again until you're happy with how they're organized, the quiet humming in the back of your mind fading away to nothing. 

You sink down on the edge of the bed, letting out a long breath. You feel tired and almost winded after your effort to make sure your nest is just right. 

Nest. 

You're nesting. 

You blink up at Johnny and Gaz, suddenly aware of their presence in your space again. Johnny is staring at you wide eyed, mouth slightly parted in wonder. Gaz has a sparkle in his eye as he grins at you. 

You've just built a nest. 

“Feel better, love?” Gaz asks, still almost beaming from witnessing you make your nest. 

You nod, a sudden weight lifting from your shoulders. You've nested. You're nesting. Everything is going to be okay. 

“C'mon.” Johnny says, slipping your slippers back onto your feet. “Let's get lunch in ye.”

You let him help you up, holding both their hands as you make your way from the barracks, a small, relieved smile on your face.

You wake up nauseous. 

There’s a clawing feeling in your stomach and you’re not sure why. 

It’s early, too early to be up. The sky outside is still dark, and the barracks are quiet. You get up, heading for the bathroom, the gnawing feeling still plaguing your stomach. Cold water on your face doesn't help the light-headedness or the dizziness you’re beginning to feel. 

You can’t possibly be sick. You haven’t been around anyone that’s sick. You know heat sickness isn’t a threat right now. There’s no warnings out about possible exposures. It couldn’t be food poisoning. You eat the same things they do. 

The gnawing intensifies, your stomach rumbling a bit. 

Realization dawns on you suddenly. 

You’re hungry. 

You’re very hungry. 

You check the time on your phone. Three a.m. Still too early for any of the boys to be up, and still a couple hours from when the mess would start serving breakfast. You head for the rec room, hoping there’s at least something in there to tide you over until breakfast. 

You dig through the cabinets, plenty of tea and a couple packets of instant coffee you know belong to Johnny. You dig out a couple protein bars, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge before taking a seat on the couch. 

The protein bars aren’t great. They don’t taste good, but you’re so hungry you don’t care. You down them quickly and the entire bottle of water. For a moment you feel relief, the gnawing in your stomach easing. You head back to bed, slipping back into your room quietly. 

You toss and turn, unable to go back to sleep as the gnawing begins in your stomach once more. You let out a quiet sound, muffled by your pillow as you lay there, knowing you still have a long time until they’ll come and get you for breakfast. 

The thought makes you almost want to cry. 

You’re waiting as soon as they knock, narrowly avoiding Johnny’s hand as you open the door mid-knock. The bright look in his eyes fades as he stares at you. You know you look miserable, maybe a little sick, even. You feel worse, your stomach twisting and gnawing. Those protein bars four hours ago hadn’t been nearly enough. 

“Ye alright, kitten?” He asks, a frown marring his face. 

“Hungry.” You all but whine, slipping out the door, closing it behind you. 

“Ye hungry, kitten? Ye could have said somethin’ sooner. Coulda brought ye somethin’.” Johnny says, following you down the hall. 

You’re determined to get real food and you’re not about to let anything get in your way. You feel ravenous, despite the fact you’d had a good dinner the night before. 

Maybe it hadn’t been enough. 

You make your own tray this time, loading on more than you usually do. You take your normal spot between Price and Gaz, all four of them eyeing your tray as you happily dig in. 

“Hungry, love?” Price asks, watching you spoon huge mouthfuls of porridge into your mouth. 

You nod, chewing quickly before spooning more in. It tastes delicious, something you never thought you would say about British food. 

They all watch in awe as you clear your tray, eating every last crumb, having to refrain from licking it clean. Finally, for the first time since you went to bed last night, you feel full and satisfied. 

“Damn. Putting us to shame.” Gaz says, staring at your empty, nearly clean tray. 

You grow bashful under their stares, realizing you not only out ate them, you also finished first. “I was hungry.” You say, fiddling with your fork. 

“No kidding.” Ghost huffs out, all of them finishing up their trays. 

You’re in a far better mood leaving the mess than you were entering it, the sweet relief of being full after hours of gnawing hunger making you feel almost giddy. Ghost walks you back to the barracks, walking slow enough you can easily keep up with him. So slow, your arm brushes his as you walk next to him. 

“Sorry.” You say, moving a step away from him. You’re so used to standing directly next to the others, you’ve forgotten Ghost prefers his personal space. 

He stares down at you for a moment but doesn’t say anything, holding the door to the barracks open for you. He stands just inside the door, watching you make your way down the hallway to your room. He waits for the click of the lock before he turns, leaving you alone in the barracks again. 

You settle into your usual routine of laying in your nest and reading, the giddiness starting to wear off as the time passes. You make it until ten a.m. when the gnawing hunger begins to return. You let out an annoyed whine, dropping your book to the floor as you roll onto your stomach. 

You want to cry and scream at the same time, watching the clock tick by on your phone. You’re tired of being so hungry, and what’s worse, you don’t even know why. You’re just ravenous and you can’t think of a reason. 

Lunch can’t come soon enough, and you find yourself struggling through the afternoon just as much. It’s almost like your body is on a timer and every two hours you’re suddenly starving, as if you haven’t eaten all day. You eat just as much as you did at breakfast, scarfing down food like you’re a starving animal. 

You certainly feel like one. 

You head to the rec room after dinner, Ghost and Johnny joining you. Johnny takes the seat next to you on the couch, draping his arm behind you as Ghost takes his usual spot in the chair. 

You curl up against Johnny’s side, watching whatever he decides to put on TV half-heartedly. You’re waiting for the inevitable, the gnawing hunger to creep up on you again. 

It does, roughly two hours into your time in the rec room. 

You shift against Johnny, pressing against his side more as you try to ignore the hunger burning through you. His arm wraps around your shoulders, holding you against him. You breathe in his scent, letting the citrusy scent of him wash over you. 

It only serves to make you more hungry. 

You let out a quiet whine, trying to get closer to him. Tears prick at your eyes as you know there’s no relief coming. There’s no more meals until tomorrow. You’ll have to go all night before you can eat again, before you can relieve the hunger. You’re not sure you’ll make it that long. You might perish in the middle of the night, or become violently ill. Perhaps both. 

You let out another quiet whine, standing from the couch. You can’t take it anymore, both Johnny and Ghost watching you as you head for the cabinets, kneeling on the floor and rummaging through everything, desperate to find another protein bar or anything. 

“What are you doing?” Ghost asks, staring at you as you’re halfway in the cabinet, checking every last corner. 

“Hungry!” You snap, half considering eating one of the tea bags just for something. 

You’ve just closed the cabinet door in irritation when an arm wraps around your waist, lifting you from the floor. You let out a yelp, Ghost carrying you easily back to the couch. 

“Stay.” He says after dropping you back next to Johnny. “I’ll be back.” 

Johnny wraps his arms around you as you pout, nearly in tears from how frustrated you are. You’re just so hungry. 

“Easy, kitten.” Johnny says, pulling you back against his chest. 

You nuzzle into him, curling up into a ball against his side. He starts purring quietly, trying to soothe you while you wait for Ghost to return. You can’t pay attention to the TV, Johnny trying to change the channel every time a food related commercial comes on. 

You’re nearly shaking when Ghost returns, arms full of snacks. Your eyes widen as he dumps them on the coffee table, pushing yourself up from Johnny’s chest. 

“Where did you get these?” You ask, dropping to your knees on the floor in front of the coffee table. 

“Vending machine in the mess.” Ghost answers, sitting back down in his chair. 

You stare at him teary eyed, sniffling a little. “Thank you.” 

He grunts in response, turning his gaze back to the TV as you reach for a bag of chips.

You can barely even taste it as you kneel there on the floor, basking in the first taste of sweet relief from a bag of salt and vinegar chips. You grab them by the handful, burning through the small, snack sized bag quickly. 

You’ve barely finished chewing when you’re reaching for a candybar, a sudden realization striking you as your brain begins to regain the ability to think now that it knows relief is coming. You stare at the purple Cadbury on the front of the packaging, your fingers trembling as you hold the candybar. 

You take a deep breath, quickly opening the wrapper before taking a bit, sitting back on your heels as you chew. “Well, shit.” 

“I know, I hate the exam rooms too.” Dr. Keller says, flipping through her clipboard. “Too clinical and sterile looking.” She lifts your hand, removing the pulse monitor from your finger. “A little higher than normal.” She says, writing something down on the clipboard. 

She takes your blood pressure and temperature, writing both down on the clipboard. 

“Temperature is still normal.” She says. “How have you been feeling?” 

“Hungry.” You say, picking at the thin fabric of the hospital gown you’ve been forced into. “Ravenously hungry and clingy.” You continue. “A bit more emotional than normal too.” 

Dr. Keller nods, writing all of it down. “Normal things for your pre-heat, according to your file. Anything out of the ordinary? Aches and pains? Any nausea or vomiting, not related to hunger?” 

You shake your head. “No. Kinda sleepy all the time too, but the hunger makes it hard to sleep.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “That’s normal. Your body is preparing for a few days of very little caloric intake and little rest. I’d say you’re exhibiting all the signs of pre-heat. You’re right on time, as expected.” She gives you a little smile. “Judging by your vitals you still have a few days before the full heat symptoms begin. Any questions?” 

“What do institutes do for heats?” John asks where he’s sitting to the side of the exam table. 

“It depends on the institute.” Dr. Keller says, looking at you. 

“FIOT rotated between sedation and isolation.” You say, not really wanting to think back on the heats you had gone through at the institute. “Sedation for the full heat, or shutting us in private rooms for a week to ride out the symptoms alone to avoid triggering heats in the other omegas.” 

“Neither are great, but in that sort of environment there’s not a lot that can be done. Sedation is the better of the two, though it can still be disorienting. Isolation is painful and risky, especially if proper care isn’t given.” Dr. Keller says. 

“Is sedation an option for the future?” Price asks. 

You turn to look at him, before looking back at Dr. Keller. 

“It’s something we can explore. I know it can’t be expected of you to be here for every heat. We can start exploring some alternatives after this heat is over and I have a better idea of what they’re going to look like.” Dr. Keller gives you a soft smile. “Now, I’d like to do a little exam just to give me a baseline for after your heat when I check for any abnormalities or injuries.” 

She directs you to lay down on the exam table and put your feet in the stirrups. You suddenly feel nervous, her words doing little to calm you. John appears in your peripheral, slipping his hand into yours. 

“Is that a risk?” You ask as Dr. Keller pulls a clean pair of gloves on. 

“Only a small one.” She says, standing at the end of the table. “I know you’ve probably heard all the horror stories, but those are only really concerns with inexperienced alphas who have never helped an omega through a heat before, especially those who had limited exposure to omegas in general.” She smiles at you. “You’re in good hands, my dear.” 

She does her exam, letting you sit up once she’s finished. John helps you up, still holding your hand. Dr. Keller’s words do ease your concerns just a bit, but you can’t help the images flashing through your mind, the horror stories of mutilations and even deaths. You trust Price to take care of you, but at the same time, you won’t know until it’s over. 

“Everything looks good.” She says. “The best thing you can do right now is try to satiate the pre-heat symptoms and take this time to make sure everything is ready and in place for when the full heat begins. Don’t worry too much.” She looks pointedly at you. “I’ll be on call and ready should something happen.” Her gaze turns to John. “Your beta knows what to look out for, right?” 

John nods. “Kyle has been doing a lot of research. He knows what to do.” 

“Good.” Dr. Keller says, looking back at you. “Why don’t you get dressed, then we can go back to my office where it’s more comfortable and talk some more.” 

Dr. Keller leaves you alone in the room, Price helping you change back into your normal clothes, leaving the room with you. You turn to look up at him, Dr. Keller waiting for you near her office door. 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Price says, leaning down towards you. 

“Yeah.” You say, standing up on your toes to kiss him. 

You try to ignore the look on Dr. Keller’s face as you walk past her and into her office, your face warming a bit in response. You take your normal seat, trying to get comfortable despite your bashfulness. 

“You and Captain Price seem a lot closer.” Dr. Keller says as she sits across from you on the couch. 

You nod. “Yeah. We, uh, we have gotten closer.” You chew on your lip. “We slept together...on Saturday night. Had a date, he cooked dinner. Then we...did it.” 

Dr. Keller’s brows raise at your words, her face surprised. “Oh? Is that so? Is that something you wanted?” 

You nod. “I asked him if he’d do it. I wanted my first time to be when I could remember it...before I would feel like it was something that had to be done.” 

Dr. Keller hums, writing something down. “Did you have fun?” 

Your face warms at her words, and you halfway wish the chair would swallow you whole. You nod, hiding your fingers beneath your sleeves again. “Yeah. I uh, started nesting too.” 

Dr. Keller’s face breaks out into a huge smile. “That’s great! That’s fantastic news! Perfect timing too.” 

You nod. “Yeah. Started on Sunday. Been feeling it since.” 

“Good. That gives us one less thing to worry about.” She sets her notebook aside, crossing her legs as she stares at you. “How do you feel about your heat coming so soon?” 

“Nervous.” You answer honestly. 

“It can be a bit daunting, I’d imagine, your first heat with an alpha. Captain Price knows what he’s doing, though. He and Sergeant Garrick will take good care of you.” 

“I know.” You say, fiddling with your sleeves. “It’s still scary. A lot of things can happen and...what if one of them does?” 

“It’s not very likely.” Dr. Keller reassures you. “Captain Price knows what he’s doing. He’s experienced with omegas and heats and the likelihood of him losing control is small, even after so long without any contact with an omega. It sounds like Sergeant Garrick has educated himself on things to look for, and what to do to help. I’ll be ready and on call the entire time as well. I’ll make regular check-ins with Sergeant Garrick too, to make sure everything is going smoothly. You’re not alone in this. We’ll all make sure you’re well taken care of. I know it’s a lot to ask you to trust people that are still somewhat strangers, but we all have your best interests in mind here.” 

“I know.” You say quietly. “It’s hard, not knowing much of anything. They tell you everything you should expect at the institute over and over again, then you get in it and everything is different. Nothing is like it should be. Nothing like they said. I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“I know. You were prepared for one life and got an entirely different one. Lucky for you, though, you’re surrounded by very understanding people who are more than happy to help you. I know this is so far from ideal for you, but I think you’re doing a fantastic job with what you were handed.” 

You stare at your hands, thinking over her words. John’s called you a good omega before. He’s called you that a few times. He thinks you’re doing a good job, despite the fact you feel like none of your skills are useful here. Despite the fact you feel like you haven’t been trying. 

You think over everything they’ve done for you, how hard they’ve tried to help make you as comfortable as possible. She’s right. They’re all so understanding and you know they like you. You can see it in their reactions to you, you can smell it on them. You know Gaz won’t let anything happen to you, even if something goes wrong. 

They have yet to prove themselves untrustworthy, for the most part. 

Maybe you really don’t have anything to worry about. 

“Come on.” Ghost says, standing in your doorway. You almost don't recognize him in a beanie and surgical mask instead of his usual balaclava. “Get shoes on, and let’s go.” 

“Go where?” You ask, sitting up on your bed. 

“Shopping.” He says, before turning on his heel. 

You frown, but do as he says, slipping on comfortable shoes and grabbing your phone. You head down the hall towards the door, a familiar car parked outside. Price and Ghost are waiting next to the car, both dressed in civilian clothes. You approach them hesitantly, suddenly feeling intimidated in the presence of the two alphas. You know you have nothing to worry about, but this is the first time you'll be alone with both of them. 

Ghost steps up to you, a bottle in his hand. You barely have time to hold your breath before he sprays you down with scent blocker, the harsh chemicals burning your nose as they settle on your skin and cut off your scent. It's necessary, even with two alphas around you. 

“Ready?” John asks, letting his eyes scan over your form for a second. He could probably pick up on your tension and uneasy energy from a mile away. 

“Can...Can I ask why?” You ask as John opens the back door for you. 

“Well, we can't have you starving to death on us, can we?” John smiles. “And we need to get a few things for your heat.”

“Oh.” You say, blinking up at him. 

“Hop in. Hopefully we can get the shopping done before dinner.” John says. 

Before you get hungry again. 

You climb in the backseat, John closing the door before getting in the driver's side. Ghost is already in the passenger seat, buckled in and ready. 

You sit and watch the landscape pass by, the car quiet except for the radio. The contrast between the two betas and the two alphas is almost as distinct as night and day. Johnny and Gaz had talked almost nonstop the entire drive to and back from town. Ghost and Price seem content in their silence, Ghost watching the landscape pass just like you. 

It speaks volumes of their trust and ease with each other. 

The farmlands turn to city and you find yourself back at Asda again. You hold John's hand as you walk, Ghost taking your other side, sandwiching you between them. People stare as you pass, their eyes on Ghost, but he doesn't even seem to notice. 

You stick close to John as you walk through the store, picking up items you'll need for your heat, as well as some other things. Ghost follows like a shadow, people giving you a wide berth when they spot him. You're almost grateful for it. You swear some of them can tell you're about to start your heat, their eyes burning into you as they pass. 

You can feel the beginnings of hunger starting to creep in as you walk down the bed liner aisle. You know if you weren't starting to get hungry, you would have been close to combusting from the knowledge of why this aisle was necessary. 

You let out a sigh, leaning your head against John's arm as he crosses the bed liner off the list. 

“What?” He asks, amusement in his voice. 

“You know what I miss?” You say, wrapping your arms around one of his. “Good authentic Mexican food.” 

The corner of John's lips lift in a smile. “Yeah? You getting hungry again?” 

You nod, a subtle whine to your tone. “Yeah.”

John turns to look at Ghost, the two alphas having a seconds long silent conversation before Ghost heads off, disappearing from the aisle. 

“Where's he going?” You ask. 

“Getting a head start on the other supplies for your heat.” John says. “Just a couple more things, then your snacks and we'll be done and we'll get some dinner.” 

You stop as you turn the corner around the end of the aisle, your eyes spotting a giant teddy bear. It looks soft and squishy, your pre-heat addled brain already picturing the perfect spot for it in your nest. 

“You want it?” John asks, looking between you and the bear. 

You snap back into reality for a moment, glancing up at the price. You nearly die on the spot, shaking your head. “I-I don't...”

John turns you to face him, speaking firmly. “Do you want it?”

You stare up into his eyes, nodding slowly. 

His gaze softens just a bit, a smile tugging at his lips. “Then grab it.” 

You're moving before you can even have a second thought, wrapping your arms around it and lifting it off the shelf. It's just as soft as you thought it would be, nearly as big as you are too. You can imagine cuddling it in your nest, napping contently, surrounded in soft plushness. 

“C'mon pup.” John says, patting your back gently. You're purring, you realize suddenly, the sound leaving you entirely unconsciously. “Let's get you some snacks then we'll get dinner.”

You carry the bear, following John to the grocery section of the store. He takes you to the snack aisle and you pass the bear off to him, grabbing anything and everything that looks good, loading up the cart. You grab a few things from the American section as well, snacks you didn't think you'd miss, but right now they sound like manna straight from heaven. 

“Simon's done with his part.” John says, glancing at his phone. “We'll meet back at the car.” 

You take the bear back once you're done filling the cart with snacks, heading towards the checkout. You're hesitant to let the bear go long enough to be scanned before you're holding it again, purring quietly and contently. 

John keeps his arm around you as you walk through the parking lot towards the car. There's already bags in the trunk from Ghost, the alpha already in the passenger seat. They must have both been carrying keys to the car. Safety precautions. Things most people wouldn't even think about. 

“Thank you.” You say as John fills the trunk with the rest of the bags. “You didn't have to do this.”

“Yes we did.” John says, looking down at you. “Not going let you starve like that if we can help it.”

“It's still strange to me, getting taken care of.” You say, squeezing the bear. “Still makes me feel a bit like a sugar baby.”

John chuckles. “Don't worry, I won't make you call me daddy.” He leans in close to your ear. “Unless you want to.” 

Your face burns hot, your entire body igniting with heat at his words. He gives you a gentle pat on the ass, directing you to the door of the car before taking the cart back to the store. 

Your face is still burning as you attempt to climb into the car with your bear, giving up and stuffing it in first. 

“What the hell is that?” Ghosts asks, turning to look at you.

“My new bear.” You respond, arranging the bear so its sitting in the seat beside you. 

“Christ.” He breathes, and you can practically hear the eye roll as you buckle the bear in. 

You buckle yourself in as John climbs in the driver's seat.

“All set?” He asks, turning to look at you. 

You nod, smiling happily despite the hunger eating away at you. 

“Let's get some dinner, then we'll head back to base.” John says, turning on the car. “Can't have our omega starving on us, can we?” 

Ghost snorts. “Best feed her before she decides we look appetizing.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “You'd be too gamey, Ghost.” You say, eyeing him before turning your gaze to the seat in front of you. “John, though...” You lick your lips. “I already know you taste good.”

John lets out a deep chuckle that rumbles with the edge of a pleased growl. “Easy, kitten.”

Ghost lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand over his face. “Spare me. Now there's two of ‘em.” 

John chuckles again, squeezing Ghost's shoulder. “Little did you know, Simon.” 

Ghost turns to look at John. “Is it too late to get a refund?” 

You stifle a giggle as John smiles. “You'll have to ask Laswell.”  

Ghost sighs, turning to look out the window. “No hope for it, then.” 

“Hey, at least I'm cute!” You grin. “Don't tell Johnny I said that.” 

You practically beam with pride as you see Ghost's shoulders shake with his laughter. Maybe you can get through to him more than you think you can. 

Maybe, just maybe, you can get him to like you. 

The knock comes at your door unexpectedly. It's late, and you had just begun to feel the pangs of hunger once more. You hate it, but you know it's necessary considering you'll have to go roughly a week getting in nothing but what nutrient bars can offer while exerting insane amounts of energy. Your body needs to store the calories now so that you don't die during your heat. 

You're surprised to see Ghost on the other side of the door, back in his balaclava. His shoulders are squared, but you can't scent any anger or hostility on him. 

He almost seems...nervous. 

“Hungry?” He asks, staring down at you. 

“Always.” You answer almost instinctively, staring up into his deep brown eyes. 

He motions for you to follow with his head. “C'mon.” 

You frown a little, but you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. You follow him towards the rec room, staring at his broad back. His shoulders are still squared, hands in his pockets. 

The rec room is set up again not unlike it was for your date with John. The card table is out and there's foil covered dishes on it, along with a couple plates. Your brows raise in surprise as you take it all in. 

“I made you something.” Ghost says, moving over to the table, removing the foil from one of the dishes. 

You move closer, blinking in surprise. “You made...enchiladas?” 

He nods. “As close as I could get with what I could find on short notice. There's rice and beans, too. And salsa.” 

Tears blur your vision as you stare down at the food on the table. It smells delicious and that's not just your ravenous pre-heat hunger talking. “You...did this for me?”

“Well, I had help,” He says, looking past you. 

You turn, Soap and Gaz standing at the windows that frame the door to the rec room. They smile and wave at you as you turn to look at them. A quiet laugh leaves your mouth as you smile at them. 

“Help yourself.” Ghost says as you turn back to the table. “There's plenty.”

You serve yourself a plate, nearly melting off the chair as you take the first bite. It takes you all the way back home, the good years when your father was stationed in Texas. 

“Taste okay?” Ghost asks, watching you. “I know it's not authentic, but I did a lot of research.”

“It's amazing, Ghost. Really.” You say. “Tastes just like the ones my mom would make.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes. “Thank you for doing this.”

He shrugs, looking almost bashful. “It's the least I could do. I know how big of a deal heats are to omegas and how nervous you've been. Thought you could use a little comfort.” 

You smile softly. “That means a lot.” You can't help but giggle softly. “I knew you liked me deep down.”

He gives you a look, making you giggle even more. “Don't push it.” 

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#call of duty fanfic #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #fic recs

[blahehblah]

LAWD HAVE MERCY

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 10: Treat Me Gently

Summary: You and Price take your relationship to the next level. It might be the best decision you've ever made.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, p in v sex, fingering, oral, first time sex, unprotected(ish) sex, reader has an implant, creampie, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, the author is a bit rusty writing smut.

A/N: It's finally here. It's finally arrived, the moment we've all been waiting for! Uh, yeah, it's mostly badly written smut with just a little plot thrown in there. So...I hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

Your attention is pulled from your book as the couch sinks on either side of you, two bodies joining you. You glance up from your book as an arm drapes itself across the back of the couch behind you. Your eyes flicker between Gaz and Johnny, mischievous grins on their faces. 

“We heard you have a date this weekend.” Gaz says, leaning in closer. 

Your face warms at his words. “Well, I don’t know if I’d call it a date...” 

“What are you wearing?” Gaz asks. 

“Do ye have anythin’ to wear?” Johnny asks. 

Their questions give you pause. The most formal thing you have are jeans and, though you doubt Price would care if you showed up in sweatpants, you would like to have something nice to wear. 

“Come on.” Gaz says, slapping your thigh before standing. “We’re going shopping.” 

“What?” You glance between him and Johnny as they stand over you. 

“Already got permission from Price.” Johnny says. “So come on.” He grabs your hands, lifting you to your feet easily. “Let’s get goin’, kitten.” 

Your cheeks warm at the pet name, Johnny’s hand settling on your lower back to steer you from the rec room. You don’t have much of a choice but to follow, grabbing a couple things from your room before you leave the barracks with them to a car parked outside. It’s different from the car you and Price had taken to town last weekend. Of course, they probably all have their own vehicles, or at least a few at their disposal. 

“I’m driving.” Gaz says, plucking the keys from Johnny’s hand. 

“Aww, ye never let me drive!” Johnny pouts. 

“Yeah, because with our luck you’ll traumatize her so badly, she’ll never want to leave again.” Gaz says, opening the driver’s side door. 

You can’t help but giggle at the dejected look on Johnny’s face as you get into the back, Johnny muttering the entire way to the passenger side. 

“I’m no’ that bad of a driver.” Johnny says, buckling his seatbelt. 

“Yeah, but both you and Simon seem to be in agreement that the speed limit is a suggestion, not a law.” Gaz says as he turns on the car. “I’d like to make it there and back in one piece, thank you. Besides, Price would have both our heads if anything happened to our girl on our watch.”

Your cheeks warm as you meet Gaz's gaze through the rear view mirror. Your heart flutters at the look in his eyes, the dedication and protectiveness shining in them. 

“I wouldnae let anything happen to ye.” Johnny says, reaching back to squeeze your knee for a moment. 

You stare out the window of the car as Gaz drives towards town, half listening to the conversation in the front seat. You're beginning to recognize landmarks, buildings, areas between the base and town despite it only being your second trip. They'd be proud of you, you think. At least if something happened, you'd be able to give a landmark. 

The farmlands fade into the city and soon Gaz is parking on the street in front of a shop. You take Gaz's hand as he helps you out of the car, lacing your fingers together. Soap holds the door to the shop open, letting you and Gaz walk through first. 

It's a nice boutique filled with all sorts of formal wear. You wonder how they even knew about this place, or if they had done some research beforehand. Both make you feel honored that they would even go to those lengths just for you. 

They are going to be your pack soon. 

Packs do this sort of thing for each other. They take care of each other, spoil each other, make each other happy. It’s hard to be a good pack if one member is unhappy. 

“Good afternoon.” One of the workers approaches you. “My name is Emily. Is there something I can help you find today?” 

“Our omega has a date with our alpha this weekend.” Gaz says, smiling down at you. “She needs something to wear.” 

The worker, Emily, smiles at you. “How exciting! Did you have anything in mind? Style, color, anything like that?”

“Probably nothing too fancy,” You say, eyeing the racks. “And, probably a dress.”

“Alright, we've got lots of options for that. Let's take a look and you can try some on.” Emily says. 

Gaz keeps hold of your hand as you follow Emily through the racks, looking at some of the options. Johnny goes off on his own, perusing the racks himself. 

“Is there a certain color you have in mind?” Emily asks you.

You hum in contemplation, looking at the many racks. You're not sure what color Price would like, or if he even has a favorite. 

“His favorite color is blue, like a dark navy blue.” Johnny answers for you. “Though, I think he'd like you in any color.” 

You can't help the way your cheeks warm a bit at Johnny's words. You realize you don't even know their favorite colors. There's still so much about them that's a mystery to you. 

“What's your favorite color?” You ask, looking up at Gaz. 

“I don't think I have just one.” He says, running his hand over a sequin covered dress on the rack in front of you “I like warm colors. Reds, oranges, purples.”

“Like a sunset.” You say, looking at a tag on one of the dresses, nearly choking at the price. 

Gaz gently removes the tag from your hand, giving you a look as you meet his gaze. “Don't even worry about it, love.” He says quietly, leaning down to kiss your cheek. 

“My favorite color is green.” Johnny says, appearing next to you suddenly. 

“Let me guess, Ghost’s is black.” You say. 

Johnny's mouth twitches. “Now how'd you come to guess that?” 

You shrug, unable to hide your grin. “Call it intuition.” 

Emily takes you to the changing rooms, the boys taking seats outside to wait for you to try on the dresses you've chosen so far. You pick a sleeveless, blue, knee-length dress first with a ruched skirt. You already don't like it, but you know the guys will want to see it regardless. 

You feel nervous, strangely exposed as you step out of the dressing room and make your way to where the guys are sitting. They both straighten up as you approach, Johnny’s eyes immediately on your legs. Gaz let's out a low whistle as his eyes scan your figure, ending on your legs as well. 

“What?” You ask concerned as you stare down at your own legs thinking the worst, like how you might have missed a spot shaving or something. 

“Nothin’ love,” Gaz says, unable to lift his gaze from your legs. “Just never seen you in anything but long pants before.”

Your cheeks warm at his words. It's true, the climate had yet to allow for anything but long pants. Even to sleep, you found yourself too cold without long sleep pants. 

“Christ, you've got gorgeous legs, kitten.” Soap says, letting his eyes trail your form. “Keepin’ those hidden from us?” 

Your face feels like it's on fire as they stare at you, and quickly turn to face the large mirror across from them in an attempt to steady the butterflies in your stomach. 

“What do you think?” Emily asks, stepping up next to you. 

“It's a little too...churchy for a date.” You say smoothing your hands over the skirt. “Definitely need something fancier than this.”

You try on a few of the others, but none of them are right. Too short, too long, too formal, not formal enough. Johnny brings you more to try, a couple sticking out, but you're not sold on any of them. 

The last dress you have yet to try on catches your eye as you pull it off the hook. It's a deep blue color, almost black. It's long sleeved and covers your front entirely, but the back is open. It's short, the skirt hem long enough to cover your ass, but you wouldn't dare bend over. It hugs your figure, accentuating the curves and lines of your body. 

Your cheeks are warm as you step out of the changing room, both Gaz and Johnny going slack-jawed as they stare at you. Even Emily looks in awe as you stand in front of them. 

“I think you've found the one, love.” Gaz says, his eyes trailing your form. “Give us a spin.”

You do a slow turn, not missing the way their eyes widen in the mirror when they see the back, Johnny still frozen as you turn back to face them. 

“How do you feel?” Emily asks, stepping up to you. 

“Good.” You say, your face still warm. “Really good.”

“Yeah,” She says, looking you over. “I think you've hit the mark with this one. Let me grab shoes and we'll put the whole look together.”

You turn to face the mirror as she steps away, your eyes meeting Gaz's as he steps up to you. 

“You look fantastic, love.” He says, leaning in close over your shoulder, his breath fanning your ear. Goosebumps form on your skin as his fingers slowly trail up the line of your spine. “Price is going to want to devour you instantly as soon as he sees you in this one.”

You shiver at his words, biting your lip as his fingers splay out across your upper back. “You think so?”

There's a mischievous glint in his eyes as he holds your gaze through the mirror. “He won't be able to keep his hands off you. Gonna drive him insane, making him sit through dinner looking like a delicious dessert.” 

You fear you might start smoking from how warm you feel, glad for Emily's reappearance. You try on the shoes she brings, opting for the shorter heels for the sake of your own dignity. 

Johnny distracts you as Gaz pays for the items, spending far too much on you but neither will let you complain. It's what they're supposed to do. 

They are your pack after all. 

“What about lingerie?” Johnny asks, turning to look at you as you sit in the car. 

Your face burns at his question. You hadn't thought about that bit. 

“Gotta dress up the whole fit.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“Lay off her, perv.” Gaz says, smacking Johnny's chest. “He's right though, gotta make sure the whole outfit matches.”

You feel like you might implode in the backseat. You might not make it to Saturday at this rate. 

You wake early on Saturday. You don't have to be up early. There's nothing going on until tonight, no need for you to rise earlier than the sun. Yet, you can't help the anticipation burning in your stomach, the nervous fluttering in your chest. Tonight you're going to sleep with Price for the first time. Tonight you'll allow him closer than you've ever allowed anyone. 

You have an outfit, you have fancy underwear, even new shoes. You're not sure how you want to wear your hair. You're not sure on makeup either, though Price has seen you plenty without it and has yet to offer any complaints. 

You grab your phone, laying in bed and scrolling hair tutorials until the sun comes up and you start hearing movement in the hallway. You don’t bother changing, pulling on shoes before stepping out. You are hungry, even after spending half the day in town and eating dinner out with Gaz and Johnny yesterday. You slip out the door, coming face to face with Ghost. You tilt your head back, staring up at him. 

“Didn’t expect to see you.” He grumbles. “Figured you’d be busy getting ready.” 

“I’ve got like ten hours until I have to be ready.” You say, blinking up at him. “It doesn’t take that long.” 

He lets out a huff, rolling his eyes. “Come on.” 

You follow him out of the barracks, but you find yourself not having to speed walk quite as fast to keep up with him today. 

“Are you upset?” You ask, kicking up your pace a bit so you can walk side by side with him. 

“About what?” He asks. 

“Price and I.” You say. 

“Why would I be?” He sounds genuinely baffled that you’re asking him. 

You shrug. “You’re an alpha in the pack too, and I didn’t really ask anyone but Price.” 

“Price is your alpha.” He says, as if it’s the most straightforward thing in the world. He’s not wrong, Price is the only one that really matters when it comes to you, since he’s the pack alpha, and he’ll be the one claiming you. 

“Would you ever want to be?” You ask, looking up at him. 

He meets your gaze as he opens the door to the mess, not answering as you slip into the hall. He stands closer to you than he normally does as you get in line for food, tailing you like a shadow as you find Johnny among the drowsy and hungover soldiers in the mess. 

You take a seat across from him, Ghost taking his spot next to Johnny. You can feel the nerves beginning to take hold as you eat, thinking about your date tonight. It’s not like you really have to impress Price much, though you suppose you could make him dislike you rather easily. You’d rather avoid that situation, as there’s no getting out of mating and being claimed by him. You’re going to be part of his pack whether he likes you or not. 

What if he finds you boring? You’re not even sure what you could talk about. It’s not like you do much, and he already knows most everything he can about you. The only thing you have to talk about are things you’d rather not discuss during your first date. You’d prefer not to discuss them at all. 

“You’ll be fine.” Johnny says as you walk back to the barracks. “Just get ‘im talking, and ye won’t need tae worry about gettin’ a word in yourself.” 

Johnny’s words do make you giggle. You’re sure Price has so much more to talk about than you do. You barely know anything about him in general. 

It’s ironic that you’re more nervous about dinner than you are about the fact Price is going to take your virginity tonight. 

You did ask for this. It’ll be good, getting to know him before your heat starts. The idea of going through your heat with a virtual stranger is terrifying to you, and Price had so willingly offered to do this so that doesn’t happen, so you feel more comfortable with being mated and claimed by someone you at least somewhat know. This is your chance to get to know your pack alpha, your alpha before you’re forced to. This is your chance to make your own decision, to have some control over a life that’s been dictated for you this far. 

You spend the morning in a nervous panic, looking up tips online, tutorials, possible questions he might ask and thinking up answers that will make you sound interesting at least. Answers that won’t just be parroting things that he already knows. Gaz brings you lunch, letting you continue to prepare for your date, knowing the chances of you having a breakdown if you’re forced around people are high right now. 

You give yourself ample time to get ready, showering and moisturizing, making sure you smell clean and look nice. You do your hair, taking your time to make yourself look decent. You opt for minimal make up, wanting to make yourself seem like you at least put a little effort into your looks. 

You're strapping on your shoes when the knock comes at the door. Six o'clock sharp, just as you expected. You take a deep breath, adjusting your dress before you open the door.

John is standing on the other side, dressed in a button up shirt and slacks. You look him over, the fresh scent of cologne reaching your nose. His eyes rake your form, his scent slipping through the cologne as his gaze darkens a bit. Gaz was right. He does look like he wants to devour you. 

“You clean up nicely.” You say, looking him over again. His shirt hugs his muscles nicely, his pants obviously tailored to fit him. You haven't seen him in anything but fatigues and civilian clothes so far. 

“Was going to say the same to you.” He says, lips pulling up into a smile. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” 

Your cheeks warm at the compliment. “Thank you.”

“Hungry?” He asks, offering you an arm. 

“Always.” You say, taking his arm, letting him lead you towards the rec room. 

The lights inside are dimmed, the table usually reserved for games set up with a tablecloth and candles, along with two plates covered with cloches, and a bottle of wine. You're not sure when he managed to procure the wine, or maybe he had it saved and decided this was as good a time as any. 

“Wow.” You say, impressed by the effort he obviously put into everything. 

“I bribed the boys out of here for a few hours.” He says, leading you to the table. “Wasn't easy.”

“I bet.” You say, sitting down in one of the chairs, letting him push it in for you. 

He pours you both glasses of wine before taking the cloches off the plates. You blink in surprise at the meal on the plate. Spaghetti, a salad, and bread. It's so simple, yet it takes you right back to weeknight dinners at home. 

“You made this?” You ask as he takes the seat across from you. 

He nods. “I've amassed many skills over the years. I'm no five star chef, but I can throw things together in a pinch.”

“Well it looks good.” You say, picking up your fork. 

It tastes good too. It's so simple, yet it's one of the best things you've eaten in the last month. You miss a lot of things about America, and the food is starting to be one of those. 

You and John make small talk as you eat, the wine warming your body and easing your nerves. 

“How long has it been,” You ask him as you clear your plate. “Since you were with an omega last?”

“Two years.” He says, taking a sip of wine. 

Your eyes widen in surprise. You know they've been with omegas in the past, taking advantage of barrack bunnies and the swaths of willing omegas you know populate near military bases. You just hadn't thought it would be that far back in the past.

“Right around the time the task force was created.” He continues. “We were too busy bonding and working on the task force, by the time we had a moment long enough for anything like that, we didn't need them anymore.”

“That must have been torture.” You say, staring at him wide eyed. 

“We're trained for that sort of thing.” He says with a smile. “How to fight off those urges, those needs. When you're in the field, something like that could get you killed. You don't pass selection into the SAS until you can show mastery over those skills.”

“Damn.” You say, taking a sip of your wine. “Still, it couldn't have been easy.”

“It can be hard, once you've been with an omega, to go without. But that's just part of the job.” 

“Well, I suppose that's partly why I'm here.” You say, huffing out a laugh. 

“Perhaps.” He says. “I'm certain we're not getting the full story.”

The double meaning isn't lost on you. There's a lot they don't know about you, things that are safer buried deep where they can't hurt anyone. Things you'd like to keep buried for the rest of time. 

“It’s nothing...bad is it?” You ask, searching his gaze. 

“I’d like to think not,” He says. 

But... 

You don’t need to hear him say it. You know it’s there, lingering at the end of that statement. You wonder how many times he’s been in these situations, forced to place blind trust in someone and hope they have the best intentions in mind. You’re all too familiar with those sorts of situations. Putting blind trust in strangers was your life purpose as soon as you presented as an omega. 

“We’re not going to let anything happen to you.” He says, staring at you with such conviction you can’t help but believe him. “You’re part of our pack, which makes you part of this team, even if bureaucracy says otherwise. We take care of each other, and that includes you. You’re our omega, regardless of whatever the endgame is for this initiative.” 

You feel almost breathless at his words, at his declaration of loyalty to you. You know how much loyalty means to someone like him, the kind of promise words like that uphold. They’d give their lives to defend you. You’d fight to defend them too, if it came down to it. Not that you could do much, but you’d try. 

“You’re my omega.” John says, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. “I take care of what's mine.”

You nod, trying to fight the tears welling in your eyes. “I know. You've...you've been a better alpha than I could have ever hoped for. Despite everything you've been kind and caring and understanding. I know some things we learned at the institute weren’t right, but...I was expecting a lot worse.”

His thumb draws circles on the back of your hand, his fingers gently squeezing yours. “I'm glad I could prove that wrong. I know this situation is weird and less than ideal, but I fear I'll have to tell Kate she was right. She did pick a good omega.”

You smile, preening a bit under his praise. “That’s all I can try to be.” 

“You can be so much more than that.” He says, lifting your hand to his lips. His beard tickles your skin as he presses a line of kisses across the back of your hand before turning it, kissing across your palm to your wrist. He presses his nose against the skin there, inhaling deeply. “You’re sure, about tonight?” 

Your fingers brush his cheek as he holds your hand against his face. Your heart is thudding your throat at the proximity, those nervous flutters starting in your stomach again. He’s giving you an out, a chance to take back what you had asked for. You know he wouldn’t blame you. He was more than willing to wait for your heat to start, for when you had no choice, when it would mean less because you would be desperate and needy for him. 

You don’t want that, though. You want him to want you before his instincts tell him he does. You want to know he’s not just fulfilling a duty, scratching an itch that’s been tickling him for two years now. You want him to want you as you are now. You want him to choose you. 

“Yes.” You say, pressing your palm flat against his cheek. “Just...be gentle with me?” 

“Of course.” He says, kissing your palm again. “You change your mind at any time, you tell me, yeah?” 

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“Good.” He takes your hand in his again, standing from his seat. 

Nerves mix with excitement as he pulls you to your feet with him, stepping up close to you. His hand lifts, tilting your chin up. Your stomach flutters as you meet his gaze, his eyes warm and soft as he stares at you. Affection shines in them as his thumb brushes your lip before he’s leaning down, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is short and sweet, like the ones you’ve shared with him before. Yet, at the same time it feels different. There’s warmth beginning to blossom under your skin, the kiss not just a simple sign of affection this time. It’s the overture, the appetizer, just a teasing taste of what’s to come. 

You hold his hand as he leads you down the hallway, heels clacking on the tile floor. It makes your face warm, the thought that they all know what it means, they can hear it and they know what’s about to happen. They know where you’re going, what you’re about to do. 

John opens his door, motioning for you to enter. You haven’t been in any of their rooms yet, you haven’t invaded their own sacred spaces. Your steps are slow and cautious as you breach that barrier, John’s scent washing over you as you step into his room. 

It’s neat and tidy, just as you expected it would be. It’s not laid out all that differently from your own, though perhaps a bit more organized and clinical than yours. There’s a shelf next to his nightstand, stuffed with books and what you can assume are souvenirs from places he’s been. There’s stacks of papers on the desk, his clothes and shoes tucked away neatly in their places. His bed is slightly bigger than yours, and you wonder if that’s a perk of his status, or if he pulled some strings once he learned he was getting an omega. 

The door clicking shut draws your attention back to John, the click of the handle a finality. You’re doing this. There’s no going back now. 

Not that you want to. 

John steps up to you, staring down at you. You stare up into his eyes as his hand comes to rest on your waist, his touch hot through the thin fabric of your dress. “You’re sure you want to do this?” He asks, voice rumbling in his chest. 

You nod, your hands slowly sliding up his arms, feeling the muscle hidden beneath his dress shirt. “Yes.” 

His lips meet yours, beard tickling your skin as he kisses you. You let him lead, leaning into him as he pulls you closer against his chest. He’s so warm, so firm under your hands as you grip his shoulders. His hand slides from your hip to your back, a gasp parting your lips as his calloused fingers touch the bare skin of your back. Goosebumps raise on your skin, a shiver running down your spine at his touch. He tilts his head, taking advantage of your parted lips to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He tastes like wine, a quiet sound leaving your throat as he pulls you tighter against him, pressing your body into his. You can feel all of him, the hard ridges, the strength in his body as he cages you in his arms. Your head is spinning, intoxicated purely by the smell and taste of him. 

Something rumbles deep in his chest, your entire body shivering in response. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, your hips pressed flush against his. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach. You’ve been able to smell the musky tinge of arousal in his scent all evening, and you wonder how long he’s been hard. Has it been since he saw you? Or has he been thinking about this all day? 

The thought thrills you, makes your omega preen in the back of your mind. You did this. Your alpha is all worked up because of you. 

A whimper leaves your lips as his hand slips lower, smoothing over the curve of your ass. He mumbles a curse against your lips before they blaze a path down the line of your jaw to your neck. You tilt your head, bearing your throat for him. A low rumble of approval vibrates through his chest, his hand squeezing your ass. The sound has your omega practically belly up, the dampness between your thighs intensifying as your scent gets heavier in the air. 

John groans against your throat, teeth nipping at your neck just over your scent gland. “Such a good girl for me.” He groans, his hand on your ass guiding your hips to grind against his. “Such a good omega.” 

You whine at the praise, hands blindly sliding down his chest to pull at the buttons of his shirt. Your fingers are trembling slightly from excitement, fumbling as you attempt to get his shirt off. You need to feel him, his skin against yours, the warmth of him pressed against you. 

“Easy pup.” His voice rumbles against your throat, teeth nipping at the delicate skin before he pulls back, hands taking over to strip him of his button up and undershirt. 

You lick your lips as his skin is revealed to you, your hand automatically lifting to touch him. You hesitate for a half a second but he makes no move to stop you. Your eyes trail over his form, over the many, many scars that decorate his skin like some kind of macabre painting. Lines and jagged slices, the telltale star shaped marks of bullet wounds. Cuts and nicks from knives or bullets, you can’t tell the difference. 

Your fingers settle on a rather large scar on his side, starting at the base of his ribs and curling around his side. It’s an old scar, but the skin is still rough and uneven. Whatever had caused it, it took a chunk out of him. You don’t want to think about it, about how every scar could have been a close call. How many times he’s been on the brink of death. 

“I’ll tell you about them later.” He says, taking your hand in his and lifting it to his lips. He kisses your fingertips, his beard tickling your skin. “Tonight is about you.” 

He pulls you close again, leaning down to press his lips to yours. His hands are warm against your back as he wraps himself around you again, trapping your hands against his bare chest. Your nails dig into his skin as his hands sink lower, grabbing handfuls of your ass. He groans, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip. He presses you backwards, and you trust him to guide you until your legs hit the side of his bed. 

“Gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?” He growls, his voice rough around the edges as his alpha slips through. 

“Yes, alpha!” You gasp against his lips, your head tilting back in submission. 

“Always such a good omega for me.” He praises you, teeth nipping at your throat. “Good omegas kneel for their alphas.” He says, pushing you backwards so you plop down on his bed. “But a good alpha,” He slowly lowers himself before you, dropping to one knee, then the other as his hands wrap around your ankles. “Kneels for his omega.”

Your face warms as you stare down at him, unable to do anything but watch as his hands make quick work of your shoes, setting them neatly beside the bed. His skin is rough against yours as his hands drag up your legs, slowly parting them. He moves himself closer, kneeling between your parted thighs. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he reaches up, pushing on your stomach until you're laying flat on his bed. He can see up your skirt now, and you're silently glad for the lacy panties Johnny had insisted on. 

“Do you trust me?” His lips brush your inner thigh as his hands pause just at the hem of your skirt where it's ridden up almost to your hips. 

“Yes, alpha.” You say, lifting your head to stare down at him. 

He meets your gaze as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his hands continuing to press upwards until your dress is hiked around your waist. Your heart is fluttering rapidly in your chest as you stare down at him, his gaze leaving your eyes to stare at the soaked lace barely covering your most private parts. 

His hands leave your hips to curl around the lace, giving it a sharp tug. The fabric snaps easily, the shreds falling to the floor. Your lip part as you stare at him in shock.  

“I'll buy you a new pair.” He says, his hands gripping your thighs to pull them further apart. 

The cool air in the room hits your slicked folds, making you shudder. He's barely touched you and already you can feel how slick you are. His lips press against your inner thigh again, blazing a path upwards. His gaze meets yours again as his hands shift to grip your hips, adjusting your position on the bed before he leans in, dragging his tongue through your folds. 

You gasp at the foreign sensation, your thighs pressing against his broad shoulders. His mouth is warm as it closes over your pussy, his tongue licking another slow stripe up your folds until he reaches the spot that has your inhale turning into a gasp. 

He focuses his attention there, dragging slow lines across your clit with his tongue. You let your arms give out, laying flat on the bed again. Little whimpers leave your lips as he teases your clit, your thighs already trembling. It’s been so long since you’ve touched yourself. Not since before you left the institute four months ago. 

You don’t last very long. 

Your thighs squeeze around his shoulders as your orgasm is ripped from you suddenly. You let out a cry that’s probably too loud, but you don’t care who could have heard you as your back arches off the bed, pressing your hips closer to John’s face. His hands hold your thighs, keeping you still as his tongue continues to tease your clit, working you through your orgasm. 

It’s not until you’re writhing in his grasp, letting out little whimpers that he relents, lifting his face from between your thighs. His beard is shiny with your juices, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. It’s obscene and yet, it has heat pulsing straight between your legs again. He lets out a chuckle, the scent of your arousal washing over him. 

“Fuckin sweet as sugar, love.” He says as he pushes himself up from between your legs, his body folding over yours on the bed. 

His face presses into your neck, inhaling deeply. Your pussy flutters at the thought of him claiming you now, sinking his teeth into your skin to mark you as his forever. He could. It would be so easy for him to do it. His tongue laves over the skin covering your scent gland, a shiver running through you. Your arms wrap around him, holding him against you as your scents mingle, musky with arousal. 

“Alpha...” You whine, your hips pressing up against the bulge in his pants. He’s fully hard now, the fabric of his pants providing delicious friction against your folds. 

He shushes you, pressing a kiss to your throat before he pushes himself up over you. “Soon, love.” He says, moving until he’s standing in front of you. “Think you’re a bit overdressed still.” 

Your eyes dart down to his pants. “So are you.” 

He smirks, his hands dropping to your waist, slowly pushing your dress up higher. You let him slip it over your head, lifting your arms to help him. You’re bare before him, warmth spreading through your veins as he stares down at you. Your hands lift, coming to rest on his thighs. You can feel the muscle through the fabric, the strength of him beneath your hands. How easily he could take control, pin you down and take what he wants with little regard for you or your pleasure. How easily he could hurt you, snap your bones like they’re toothpicks, bruise and batter your body without even straining a muscle. 

Yet he stands here, patiently watching as your hands move closer and closer to the prominent bulge in his fitted pants. He doesn’t even twitch as your hand cups his hard length, your breath stuttering at the sheer size of him. He’s big like most alphas are, or so you’ve heard. 

His eyes stare into you as you undo his belt, popping the button on his pants open. He finally moves as you pull down the zipper, helping you tug his pants and briefs down. His cock stands at attention, almost as stiff as he is. You stare at his veiny cock with wide eyes, the tip flushed almost red with how hard he is. 

“Christ.” You breathe, staring at him in awe. 

You did that. 

“Easy, love.” He says, leaning down to wrap an arm around your waist. “I said tonight was about you.” 

He moves you so you’re laid out on the bed, your head hitting his pillow. The scent of him floods your nose as he joins you on the bed, the frame creaking as he kneels between your legs. Nerves twist in your stomach as you continue to stare at his cock bobbing between his thighs as he runs his hands along your legs. It’s going to hurt, you know that. It suddenly seems daunting, this request. At least during your heat you’d be so out of it with need you wouldn’t really feel anything. And you’d have plenty of slick to help. 

“None of that.” He says, squeezing your thighs gently. “I told you I’d take care of you.” 

You nod, swallowing thickly. 

“We’ve got more work to do before we reach that point. I’m not just going to stuff my cock into you like some needy pup.” He stares at you. “You tell me and I’ll stop, alright?” 

You nod again. “Yes, alpha.” 

Your breath hitches as his hands reach the junction of your thighs, one moving to your stomach, the other dragging through your folds, gathering your wetness on his fingers. They’re so much thicker than your own, your pussy clenching as he presses against the entrance. 

“Relax for me, love.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your stomach with his thumb. 

His finger presses into you and your lips part at the intrusion. You clamp tight around his finger, making him groan. 

“Easy.” He says, his thumb moving to circle your clit. 

A breathy whine leaves your lips as his finger presses deeper into you, reaching further than you ever could. Your hand reaches up to thread through his hair, letting the short cropped strands slide through your fingers. It’s softer than you imagined, though you expect he too had spent the afternoon preparing for tonight as well. The mental image of him lathering himself in moisturizer would have made you laugh if his finger hadn’t brushed against a spot inside you that has your hips lifting off the bed. 

He leans down, lips blazing a path up your stomach, between your breasts to your throat. He swallows your moans as he works you open with his fingers, the lewd sound of his fingers thrusting into your wet pussy only adding to the pleasure coursing through you. You can feel it building within you, heat burning through your veins. Price groans against your lips as your nails scratch his scalp, his cock leaking against your thigh. You want him, need him inside of you. You need to feel him, you need to be close to him. 

“Alpha, please.” You whimper, tugging at his hair. 

He stares down at you, eyes blown with lust. “Please, what?” 

“Need you.” You whimper, grinding against his hand. “Please, sir.” 

Price closes his eyes, letting out a groan. His cock twitches against your thigh, his fingers slipping from you. He breathes out a curse, shifting to open his nightstand. He pulls out a bottle of lube, sitting back on his knees to squirt some into his hand. You’re plenty slick, but you watch as he rubs the lube on his cock, tossing the bottle back into the open drawer. 

He kneels between your thighs again, staring down at you as one of his hands comes to rest on your hip. You feel intoxicated, your head spinning from the intensity of his scent around you and the knowledge of what’s about to happen. 

Price folds his body over yours again, the head of his cock brushing your folds. You moan into his mouth as he kisses you, parting your thighs further for him as his tip catches on your opening. Your hands grip his shoulders as he presses into you, the stretch stinging a bit as he works you open. This is it. There’s no going back now. 

You don’t want to. 

You whimper quietly as he pushes into you, nails biting into his skin. It’s too much, yet you can’t get enough of it as he sinks further in. You let out a shaky breath as he pulls away from your lips staring down at your face. 

“Alright?” He asks, stilling where he is. 

You nod. “Just need a moment. You’re really big.” 

His lips twitch up into a smile, a pleased growl rumbling through his chest. “Don’t start talking like that, love.” He says, leaning down to press kisses to your face. 

“Or what?” You ask, your nails digging harder into his skin. 

“I might not be able to control myself.” He growls, his alpha slipping out around the edges of his voice. 

Your pussy clenches at his words, walls clamping down around him. He lets out another growl, hiking your leg up over his hip. It forces him deeper into you, your breath catching at the feeling of him spreading you open. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, rocking your hips to take him even deeper into you. 

John’s arms frame your head as he presses his body against yours. Your arms slip around his back, legs locking around his waist as he begins to move slowly, working himself deeper and deeper into you until he’s pressed flush against you. He stills for a moment, pressing his forehead to yours as you both breathe. You’re trembling just slightly, overwhelmed with being so close to him, to your alpha. The pain and discomfort is gone, replaced by burning heat as desire pulses through your veins. 

“Please, alpha.” You whimper. 

He shushes you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’ve got you, omega.” 

Your skin is slick with sweat already as he begins to rock his hips into you. Your hands press into his back, feeling the muscles shift and flex as he moves. It feels good, the friction of your bodies, the way he stretches you open with every thrust. Your head is spinning with pleasure at the thought of being so close to another person, being so connected with someone else. 

Not just someone else, with your alpha. 

The wet squelch of your pussy as he thrusts into you is loud, the mattress creaking as he picks up speed. You’re trembling, your thighs squeezing around his hips as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. You’re not sure how he’s lasted this long, especially without any sort of release for himself yet tonight. 

Perhaps it was the training he spoke about earlier.

You’re not sure how he manages it. You couldn’t have that kind of control. Not after this. Not after knowing how good it can feel, how good he can make you feel. 

“Fucking feel so good.” He grunts, his breath fanning her ear. His own skin is slicked with sweat, muscles twitching under her hands. “So fucking tight and warm.” 

“John!” You gasp, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades as he picks up the pace even more, his hips snapping against yours. 

“Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum like a good omega? Need you to cum for me.” He grunts, staring down at you. 

You let out a whine, arching against him as you seek your second high of the night. His cock brushes that spot inside of you, stars nearly erupting behind your eyes. 

“Right there.” You gasp, thighs shaking around his hips. “Fuck, right there!” 

You’re being loud but you don’t care, nails dragging down his back as he focuses his thrusts right at that spot inside you. You cum with a cry, pussy squeezing around him. He lets out a loud groan, his hips stilling as he twitches inside you. His muscles go lax, his body falling on top of yours. He manages to keep himself from squishing you beneath him, his face pressing against your neck. 

The smell of sex, arousal, sweat, and your own combined scents are heavy in the air. You’re shaking, still wrapped tightly around John as he lays on top of you. He’s breathing heavily, warm breaths fanning against your neck. You don’t want to move, your mind buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm still. 

“Alright?” He murmurs, lips pressing a gentle kiss against your throat. 

You nod, slowly unwinding yourself from around him. “Yeah. ‘M good.” 

“Fucking Christ, a man could get addicted to that.” He says, lifting his face from your neck. “Sweet little omega.” 

Your face warms more than it already feels, and you lean into his touch as his fingers brush your cheek. 

“Let me go get something to clean this mess up with.” He says, pushing himself up so he’s kneeling. 

You can’t help but giggle as his joints pop and he lets out a groan at the effort. “Need a break, old man.” 

His eyes flash playfully, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Going with the old man insults again, huh?” 

You give him a look. “You’re the one grunting while getting up.” 

You let out a surprised yelp as he brings his hand down on your thigh, the skin tingling as he gets up. “I’ll show you old man.” He murmurs as he heads for his en suite. 

You bite your lip as you begin to feel his release slipping out of you, the feeling causing desire to stir in your stomach once more. 

John tsks as he comes back, wiping the mess between your thighs. “Needy little thing.” He practically purrs, stepping away to toss the rag into the bathroom sink before he returns, climbing back onto the bed.

You press as close to him as you can, nuzzling into his neck. Your limbs are still twitching a bit, your mind buzzing from the aftermath of what had just transpired. John wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. You press a gentle kiss to his neck, earning a rumble in response. Your own rumble starts up as you purr contently, tossing a leg over his hip to allow you to get as close to him as possible. 

He huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Comfortable?” 

You purr louder in response, sleep beginning to fog the corners of your mind. 

“Good girl.” He says, pressing another kiss to your head. “Sleep. Alpha’s got you.”

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 #poly 141 x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #fic recs

[blahehblah]

pls i’ve been dying for a friend to talk about sleep token and COD fics with 😩 thank you so much

you write about COD and you have vessel as your pfp???? can we be friends????

Of course!!! 💚

#cod mw2 #sleep token

[blahehblah]

absolutely not, noah can fuck right of with that attitude

Miracle-fourteen

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: Whoopsie daisy.

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98 @omens-in-reverse @loverofagoodbeard @jay02bo @niicoleleigh

My eyes held firm on the laptop screen in front of me as I worked tiredly on editing some pictures I've taken the last few days. Bryan sent me over his own and I had plans on posting them all over the Bad Omens social media sites. It should have been done a few days ago but everything with my mom and Noah kind of halted my plans.

Noah.

I tried not to think about what he was doing right now, although I had a pretty good idea. Him and the guys were at their meet and greets. Ever since our fight on the bus about 5 days ago, I had avoided him as best I could. It was pretty easy because I started traveling on the crews bus again which as much as he wanted to know what happened, Davis didn't pry for answers. While Folio checked in on me a few times the last few days, Noah hasn't reached out once. It was stupid to be upset when I could have reached out but I told him I needed time yet he was the one that pushed me away.

Every time we were backstage for a show, I made sure I stayed out of the green room and when I was on stage taking their pictures; I took all of my shots of Noah from a distance. There'd been times our gazes would lock but with him performing, I knew I was safe and he wouldn't try to talk to me.

My phone buzzed on the couch next to me and when I saw the caller's I.D., I ignored it with a groan. This was the third time that Lana tried calling me today and each time I sent it straight to voicemail. She called every day which I only answered twice and kept the conversations quick. I was still pretty upset about everything I found out about my mom so the last thing I wanted was to talk about her. I threw out the excuse that since we were nearing the end of the tour, about a week left, I'd been swamped with work.

It wasn't a total lie but nonetheless, Lana's phone calls became less frequent; until today.

The quiet serenity of the green room was exactly what I needed to finish editing the pictures and uploading them to Instagram. Once that was checked off my list, I opened up another program on my laptop to edit another set of pictures. I was alone in here so I didn't have to worry about anyone seeing these.

As usual, money was getting tighter since I had posted nothing on Only Fans in a while. I was getting new subscribers every day but not enough to keep incoming steady. These pictures were the most risqué I'd done yet; completely naked but my face still covered.

It went against everything I said in the beginning but desperate times called for desperate measures. Lana's final paycheck would be due in a few days and this one was going to be the biggest yet. And that I needed to save some money in order to pay to put my mom in a facility. Even though I was furious with her, she still deserved to have help from doctors and people that knew what they were doing.

With a sigh, I uploaded the photos to my site before idling with my laptop, unsure if my next move should be worth the risk.

"Do you actually want to reach out to him or are you feeling guilty for not knowing about him?"

Folio's voice rang in my mind from last night as I talked with him post show. I asked him if he thought it was a good idea or not to reach out to my brother James. Deep down I knew I wasn't going to reach out to him because I wanted to move on from everything. I wanted nothing to remind me of a past that was all a lie. As soon as I return home from tour, I'd look at some facilities with Lana and we'd chose the best one for me mom. Then I could start looking forward to a bright future.

With Noah.

Quickly I shook the thoughts out of my head. He told me not to bother, so I planned on keeping it that way.

Yeah right.

I placed my laptop back into my bag just as the door to the green room opened and in walked Jolly followed by Nick.

"Hey," I smiled. "How'd the meet and greet go?"

"Good," Nick sat down next to me with an exhausted breath. "I'm hoping to get a few minutes of sleep before we go on."

I patted his knee, understanding how long and draining this tour had been on everyone. "Nine more days and we can all enjoy the comfort of our own beds."

"Until Europe in a month," Jolly reminded as he sat down on the other side of me.

My shoulders fell, completely forgetting about another tour this time halfway around the world. I hadn't thought much about what exactly I'd be doing after setting my mom up in a facility. To be honest, there wasn't anything holding me back from going on the next leg of the tour. The money that I'd be getting would definitely help keep things afloat even when I stopped my Only Fans.

The only downside was seeing Noah for a prolonged period.

You can't avoid him forever, dumbass.

With a grumble to the voices in my head, I sat with Nick and Jolly as we talked for a while until the door to the room opened again, this time Noah walking in with Folio behind. From what I've seen over the last few days, their relationship hasn't soured or was ruined because of me.

Folio tossed me a smile as he ruffled through his bag for a change of clothes while Noah had his eyes glued to his phone. There was a slight tick in his jaw as he scrolled through something and with the way his cheeks reddened, I figured whatever it was, wasn't supposed to be seen by anyone.

But why did he look angrier than flustered? No, it looked like whatever he was looking at turned him on; shallow breaths, flushed cheeks, and I didn't miss the way he adjusted himself as he slid the phone into the pocket of his grey sweats. I did my best not to gawk at him wearing just a plain white tank. I was supposed to be upset with him, not horny.

When his eyes met mine, it was as if time slowed down and my heart hammered in my chest as I wondered what he was going to do. This was the first time in five days that we were this close to each other.

But of course, my stubborn ass had to add more fuel to the fire.

"What?" I raised a brow. "Are you going to accuse me of sleeping with Jolly and Nick now?"

Noah's eyes sliced into me. "I wouldn't be surprised."

"Fuck you!" I spat while rising to my feet. "You're back to being an asshole to me because I said I didn't want a relationship right now? Grow up, Noah."

"All I'm saying is that you seemed to move on pretty fast," he said with a shrug.

I stared blankly at him, utterly confused, however, I never got the chance to ask what the fuck he meant by that because my phone rang; again.

Lana flashed across the screen and I slammed my thumb against the red button.

"I'm going to get some air," I muttered while pushing past Noah, daring not to touch him.

"Try not to get lost in some guy's lap," Noah bit out just before the door slammed shut.

The walk around the block did absolutely nothing to calm the rage burning in my gut or stop the phone calls from Lana. I sent her a text to say I was busy with work and would call her later. I planned on doing another circle around the block but knew I had to get back to the venue because the guys were going on stage soon. I didn't want to anger Noah even more by being late so here I was, fake smile plastered on my face and camera clutched in my hand as I made my way towards the green room.

Previously, I stated I wanted to get a few shots of the guys before going on stage and although angry as I was, I still wanted that.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I cursed when my phone rang again.

I was ready to chuck it against the wall at this point however when I saw the unknown number; I gave pause. Something in my gut was telling me that this call was important and I shouldn't ignore it.

Just outside the green room, I answered the phone with a cautious tone.

"Hi, Y/N. This is Nancy Smith, your neighbor."

Oh yes. The good one that understands my moms diagnosis. But why was she calling me?

"Did my mom-."

Nancy's frantic voice cut me off. "Lana has been trying to reach you all day. Something's happened to your mother, and she's in the hospital."

My heart fell into my stomach, pulled down by the guilt.

"Wh-what happened?" I asked.

"She was driving and crashed; the car is totaled. It's not looking good, honey. Lana mentioned you travel for work?"

What the fuck. She wasn't supposed to be driving.

I nodded even though she couldn't see me. "Yeah, I'm in Oregon so it might take me a while to get home. But I'll get on the next flight as soon as I can."

Not bothering to say goodbye, I hung up the phone and stood for a moment to blow out a few deep, shaky breaths. Tears burned in my eyes as I blamed myself. Maybe if I answered Lana's first call, I could have been there earlier.

"Fucking idiot," I cursed myself.

In order for me to leave, I needed to talk to Noah since technically he hired me.

I'd rather chew on a brick of concrete.

With shaky hands but a stern face, I stood taller as I walked into the green room. Bryan, Davis, and Matt were there along with Bad Omens who were all dressed and ready to go on stage. Folio's eyes fell on me and knew instantly something was wrong but I shook my head, not wanting to go into it in front of them. I already decided that I would only tell Noah I needed to leave for a family emergency and wouldn't be able to work the rest of the tour.

Noah was slipping on his jacket as I walked up to him.

"Noah?" My voice was quiet.

Looking over his shoulder, Noah gave a curt nod.

"Uh," I faltered over my words. "I need to go home."

This made him turn on his heels as he scoffed. "What?"

"I have to go home," I didn't dare raise my voice because I didn't want the others to hear.

"Why? Because I said some things that hurt your feelings? Grow up, angel," He repeated my words back to me.

I was in such a state of shock that his pet name for me didn't even register.

"No," I said with clenched fists. "There's a family emergency. I have to go home."

Noah ran a hand over his jaw. "No."

I gawked at him, rage now spilling out every pore on my skin. "Excuse me?! Did you not hear that it's an emergency?"

"If you leave before the tour is finished, you don't get paid. You won't have a job," he shrugged before buttoning his jacket.

The fucking audacity of him. How did I ever have feelings for such an asshole?

An attractive asshole who looked amazing with his jacket undone at the top and silver chain glimmering in the room's light.

"I need the money, Noah."

He leaned in closer, lips so close to mine that I could almost taste the richness of him.

"Then don't leave."

I ground my teeth together. "Two days. Please, all I'm asking for is two days to get things shorted out then I'll be back."

Noah's eyes grazed over my face. "Are you going to tell me why you need to leave?"

With a hesitant shake of my head, I ignored the stares from everyone in the room.

"No, but please understand I need the money. I promise I'll be back in two days."

He chuckled darkly, voice raising to echoing levels. "Why? Is your Only Fans not paying enough? Not surprised with the content you post. I've seen better in amateur porn."

The sound of skin on skin rang loudly in the room as my palm collided with his cheek. His finger brushed along his lip where he bit it from how hard I slapped him.

"Fuck you, Noah!" I screamed.

All sets of us were on us and I knew without a doubt that they heard what Noah had said. His face was still turned to the ground but looked up at me through his lashes.

"My mom is in the hospital. She was in a car accident and might not make it. So do me a favor, keep your fucking money and stay the hell out of my life. I quit."

Not sparing him another glance, I stormed out of the room and away from whatever chance we had to make things work between us.

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #fic recs

[blahehblah]

this absolutely wrecked me

You Could Be Mine

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x unnamed Ofc (is it tho? kind of not really)

Content warnings: 18+!, smut, oral (female receiving), handjob, unprotected (p in v) sex, car sex, jealous Noah, brief mention of alcohol consumption

A/N: this didn’t quite go the way I wanted, but it’s fine. tried my best to kind of write it from Noah’s perspective in 3rd person. Also wrote most of this while under the weather, so if it’s all over the place and not super coherent, I apologize.

Word count: 3k

————————————

The moment they walked into the bar, eyes were on them—more specifically on her. She paid none of them any mind, initially only focused on Noah. It’d been far too long since they hung out. Between him touring and her own busy life, they couldn’t spend time together like they used to. Noah missed her, and she missed him. She offered to buy the first round of drinks and after some playful teasing, he watched her walk to the bar.

She wasn't his. She was nothing more than a friend to Noah. A friend that he cared for deeply, maybe too much for his own good. This wasn’t a date. It was just two friends catching up, nothing more, nothing less. He repeated it over and over in his head. But he couldn’t stop his wandering gaze no matter how much he tried. Her little black dress hugged her in all the right ways. She had to snap her fingers at him when he picked her up to stop him from gawking. He still snuck glances at her when he could. She was always an eye catcher. It never bothered Noah before—why would it? She was just a friend—but there was something about that damn dress…

A man sat down beside her at the bar while she waited for their drinks. She obliged him with a polite smile. Noah watched them like a hawk. He didn’t like that man the second he saw him.

Noah didn’t like the way that guy was looking at her. He hated the way he blatantly stared at her chest, how his eyes lingered on her ass. He’d been eye fucking her her all night and trying much too hard, Noah determined. She entertained him, thinking he was cute. She batted her lashes and laughed at his jokes. He laid it on thick after she told him Noah wasn’t her boyfriend. Noah knew his jealousy was unprovoked, he had no claim to her heart. But that still didn’t stop it from festering and bubbling in his blood.

Noah clenched his jaw, watching her intensely. She was close to him—too close. Her chin rested in her hand and the other one touched his arm. The smile on her face was enchanting. Her dark painted lips imprinted in Noah’s mind, sending his thoughts into a frenzy. He wondered how her plump pout would feel on his lips, how pretty she would look with her lipstick smudged, how the color would contrast against his tattoos. He wanted to test how waterproof the rest of her makeup was. His dick throbbed when he thought about her mouth around him.

His cock throbbed again when she caressed the man’s thigh and slowly slid her hand up. Noah wished that was him under her touch. He wondered how soft her hands would feel on his skin—if she would be gentle or rough in her touches.

“Fuck,” he grumbled. He grabbed his crotch and pulled the fabric, trying to adjust. “Dammit.”

The fellow dropped his hand to hers and tossed his head back. Noah sat up straighter, suddenly on high alert. Under no circumstance was he letting her leave with someone other than him. His gaze sharpened as their conversation seemed to sour. She retracted her hand with a shake of her head. Noah relaxed slightly but still paid close attention. She was fully capable of taking care of herself—it was one of the things he admired most about her—but he was ready to step in if needed. The man tried to grab her knee, but she stood up offering him an apologetic look. She turned away from him, her eyes instantly finding Noah’s. The dejected expression on her face hurt him—though he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t feel satisfied knowing the stranger's attempts fell flat.

“Well that was disappointing,” she frowned, sliding in the seat next to Noah and handing him his beer. She rested her head against his shoulder. “He was really cute.”

She sighed heavily. “He was so nice up until I told him I wasn’t leaving with him.”

Noah said nothing, just silently sipped his drink. The guy glanced over to them, clear disdain on his face. Noah shot him a scathing glare.

“Probably for the best. I didn’t like his vibe anyway.” Noah’s voice was strained.

She scoffed.

“You don’t like anyone I flirt with, so much so that I’d think you had a thing for me.”

If only you knew, Noah thought.

——————

The man tried one more time to sway her. He came up to their pool table while Noah stepped away to the restroom. He debated on dealing with his erection, but decided against it. He couldn’t dignify a quick jerk despite how desperately he needed it. They were leaving soon anyway, he could wait until he was in the comfort of his own home. When he re-emerged and saw him, a whole new wave of jealousy and rage coursed through him. Noah hurriedly walked back to her, his eyes focused only on him.

As he got closer, he could hear bits of the conversation.

“C’mon. You said he’s not your boyfriend. What’s the harm in leaving him here?”

“We came here together and it’s been a long while since we hung out. I’d really like to enjoy the rest of my night with him.”

Noah felt a pull in chest at her words, slipping easily beside her. He slid his arm around the front of her waist, pulling her close. The man forced a smile, but Noah saw and felt the daggers staring back at him.

“Care to let go of your leash on your friend here?” The man spoke. Noah clenched his jaw and tightened his grasp on her waist.

“I believe she—“

“I believe I said no.”

Her firm and authoritative tone of voice went straight to his dick. The man gave them both a onceover before leaving with a scoff.

“What a fucking asshole.” She spat.

Noah moved his hands to her hips and gripped them roughly, pulling her back to him. He no longer cared how possessive he was coming across. His fingers dug in deeper as her ass brushed against his aching erection. He held her firmly in place, hoping she would feel. His grip turned bruising when she pressed into him. A low sound rumbled in his chest. God if he didn’t get to sink his teeth in her tonight… he feared he might go crazy.

She leaned back into Noah’s chest, resting a hand on his cheek.

“Noah?”

He hummed. His face came to her neck, subtly inhaling the scent of her sweet floral perfume. His eyes fluttered as her fingers moved up to his hair and scratched his scalp. She lightly ground against him. His breath hitched.

“I’m ready to leave.”

———

The walk back to his car was quiet. She was a few paces behind Noah, their fingers loosely hooked together. His heart hammered in his chest. He could feel his heartbeat in his dick. This girl had him so wound up. The second he walked through his door, he was going to rip his pants off. Whether or not he would think of her was to be determined.

He paused at her door and reached for the handle but before he could open it, she leaned against it. Her eyes closed with a disappointed breath. Noah stroked her arms, rubbing small circles at her shoulders.

“What’s wrong?”

She looked at him, a frown on her face.

“I really liked that guy.”

Noah clenched his jaw.

“I thought you said he was an asshole.”

She hummed. “Yeah, but a girl has needs, you know?”

Noah nodded, choosing to ignore the way her words affected him. She lifted her head to look at him completely. Her hands rested on his hips. Noah stilled his. There were conflictions dancing in her eyes.

“Would you have been upset if I left with him?”

Jealousy stirred in his gut again. He squeezed her arms a few times. How honest should he be?

“Yeah.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could think. She raised a brow. Her fingers hooked in his belt loops.

“And why’s that?”

He definitely wasn’t telling her the real reason.

“You said it yourself,” Noah shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “We haven’t hung out in a while.” Not a complete lie, but not the entire truth either.

She tugged the belt loops, pulling his hips flush to her. Noah bit the inside of his cheek to keep his groan contained.

“Is that the only reason?”

Her head cocked to the side. He grinded his teeth.

“Tell me Noah. There’s clearly something on your mind.”

Noah couldn’t help the noise he made when she forcefully pulled him closer. One of her hands slid up to his stomach.

“Were you worried for my safety?”

Her hand wandered down to the waistband of his pants, then she snuck two inside, yanking him even closer. Noah choked out a small, breathless swear, his eyes screwing shut. His breathing grew heavy. The ache of his erection was becoming unbearable.

“Were you jealous?”

Yes. “No.” His lie was quick and shaky.

She chuckled, running her fingers along the inside of his waistband. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Noah moved his hands up to the bottom of her neck and carefully grasped .

“I wonder how nicely he would’ve treated me,” she taunted, slipping her fingers past the waistband of his boxers.

Noah’s eyes landed on hers. His jaw was starting to hurt from how hard he was clenching. He felt a thread in him beginning to snap.

“Do you think he would’ve made me cum? Or do you think he would’ve been selfish?”

When her fingers brushed against the tip of his dick, he grasped her wrist harshly. His other hand gripped the back of her neck. He gazed down at her. He was growing tired of her games.

“If you keep teasing,” Noah bent down so they were face to face, “I might do something we’ll both regret.”

Despite how badly he wanted her, her friendship was more important than a quick fuck—but god if she wasn’t testing his restraint.

She hummed, retracting her fingers from his pants. Instead of stopping however, she fiddled with his belt buckle, staring deeply into Noah’s dark eyes. Once it was unfastened, she slowly unbuttoned his pants then raked her nails up his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. Noah’s breath hitched when she ghosted her lips over his.

“A girl has needs, Noah, and so do you.”

Her voice rippled through him. She removed one of her arms and trailed her hand back down his body, and back inside of his boxers.

Every ounce of control Noah had snapped the moment she wrapped her hand around his cock. Her touch was like fire, sparking and igniting a deep desire inside. He crashed their lips together, his tongue immediately searching for and tangling with hers. There was nothing friendly about the way he kissed her or the way she stroked him. It was all pent up lust, a fantasy that he never dared to entertain.

Noah gripped her hips roughly, thrusting himself into her hand, urging her to work quicker. She tightened her grip, causing him to moan in her mouth. The hold she had on his cock was unrelenting, it almost hurt, but damn if it didn’t make him ache in a different way.

He broke their kiss, his mouth immediately finding her neck. He bruised the skin with harsh bites. She moaned each time, almost as if she was asking to be marked. Her moans turned to whimpers quickly.

“Fuck, Noah.” She whined when he bit down hard, suckling the same spot. Her hand left his cock and threaded her fingers in his hairs. Noah missed her touch, but took it as an opportunity.

Noah pulled away from her neck and crouched down. He lifted one of her legs, one pushed up the hem of her dress, the other hand slid up the length of her leg until he reached her thong. He pulled it down, leaving her fully exposed under her dress, then threw her leg over his shoulder. A pleasure filled gasp fell from her mouth as he licked into her. Noah couldn’t help his own moan as he tasted her. He lapped at her like a dog who’d never had a drink of water.

She tangled all her fingers in his hair and pushed his face further into her cunt, grinding against his mouth. Noah let her guide him where she needed him. He dared a look up at her. Her jaw was slack and her eyes were closed tight. Her lipstick was all over her mouth, which meant it was all over Noah’s. He could see traces of it on her neck. The color accentuated the bite marks and bruises he left nicely.

She bit her bottom lip when he sucked and tongued her clit. He thought about sticking his finger inside, hoping to feel her as she came, but didn’t. His mouth was working just fine. Her grip on his hair tightened, her thrusts against his face staggered. She held his head in place as she came into his mouth with a loud moan. Noah slurped everything she gave him. He licked her through her orgasm until she stopped shuddering. Noah gave her little time to recover before he was standing and tugging the front of her dress, pulling her towards him.

“We’re not done yet,” he growled, opening the back door.

Noah guided her around the door and carefully shoved her to the back seat. He quickly lowered his pants enough to comfortably free his dick before crawling in after her and slamming the door shut. The space was cramped, barely enough room for just him, let alone for them both, but he didn’t care. He needed release and more importantly her.

His mouth found hers again, kissing her more feverishly and ravenously than earlier. He hoped she liked how she tasted just as much as he did. His hand tugged at the neckline of her dress, causing a few threads to crack with the force. He moved his lips to her breast, kissing and nipping what skin he could. He trailed his onslaught to her neck. Noah grabbed his throbbing cock and pressed the tip to her clit then slid it to her entrance.

“Condom or no condom?” He whispered in her ear. She awkwardly hooked her legs around him.

“I want to feel you when you cum.”

Noah nearly did just that when he slid in, reeling from how easily she took him.

“Fuuck.” He groaned.

Her hands slipped under the back of his shirt then she dug her nails in, clawing at his back. He pounded into her with force. Skin slapping skin and her cries were all that could be heard in his car. His lips found hers again and he all but shoved his tongue back into her mouth. Their teeth clacked together and their tongues mashed against some another’s. It was wet, sloppy. Noah could feel saliva on his face.

He needed more of her, somehow some way. He couldn’t get enough. Noah slammed into her so hard, he swore he felt the car move. She cried out. He stared down at her, pure ecstasy splattered across her beautiful lipstick stained face. Water welled in her eyes. He stilled his hips.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“I’m more than okay.” She replied, wrapping her legs around him as best she could. “Don’t you dare stop.”

Her eyes rolled back as he slammed into her again. Tears trickled out of her now closed eyes. Noah hated when she cried, but he loved that it was because of him, that it was because of how good he was making her feel. He pressed his thumb to her clit, causing her to choke a pathetic whimper.

“Fuck I love that sound.” Noah growled. He nipped her jaw, eliciting another whine from her. “Cry more for me, baby.”

And she did just that. Mascara and eyeliner started running down her cheeks. Her nails dig into his back, scratching the ever living shit out of him. He was certain she broke skin.

“You’re so fucking pretty crying for me.”

“Noah.” She sobbed breathlessly.

Noah groaned then attacked her neck again with his mouth. There would be so many bruises on her tomorrow. She would probably give him an earful, but he didn’t care. Each bite drew more sobs and moans from her. It only egged him on further, desperate to hear more from her. He loved hearing her say his name.

“I bet he wouldn’t have made you scream.” He spoke between bites.

The thought of that man touching her intimately angered him. That man didn’t deserve her. That man wasn’t worthy of tasting her or the wonderful feeling of her pussy. This was all for Noah and Noah only.

Mine, Noah thought, over and over again.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

“Mine.”

His thumb circled her clit faster. The sounds emanating from her almost pushed him over the edge. Her choked high pitched whines grew louder and louder. She sounded beautiful crying out in pleasure.

“Noah.”

The quiet moan of his name as she climaxed was his undoing. With one final thrust, he came with a groan. He bit down hard on her neck, suckling the skin and licking over his mark. His dick pulsed as her cunt milked him completely.

Noah didn’t pull out right away. He rested his head in the crook of her neck, letting himself soak in the moment because this would probably be the only time this would ever happen. The scent of her perfume mingled with the smell of his breath. He could smell the beer he had earlier and her arousal.

There was no way he could pretend this never happened. He could never forget the feeling of being balls deep in her pussy.

He was so fucked.

#noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #noah recs

[blahehblah]

WHAT ON EARTH

An Angel for Noah || Noah Sebastian x OC [Part 5]

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @cafekitsune

MASTERPOST

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x Jules [she/her]

SUMMARY: Noah can't get this girl from his dreams out of his thoughts and goes to extreme lengths to clear his head... With no success.

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, reckless behavior, near-death experiences, emotional distress, ...

A/N: Hello! ♡ Here is the next chapter of An Angel For Noah and we finally have something to work with. I'm so excited for your reactions. Just to let you know, I almost broke my brain while writing this. Also thanks to my boyfriend for being my co-writer. Credit goes out to collapsedboyfriend or whatever lmao. Have fun reading this chapter and let me know your thoughts! ♡

TAGLIST: @trvshdxddy @blackveilomens @crimson-calligraphyx @measuredingold @cncohshit @signs-of-ill-portent

If you wanna be added to the taglist of this story, please DM me or let me know in the comments!

Keep in mind, this takes place in an alternative universe. Even though I write about real people, the way I write them has nothing to do with how they are in real life.

“Jules.”

Noah’s simple exclaim still lingered in her ears, even days later.

Her heart had sunk when she heard him audibly sigh out her name. Her mind instantly had started to race. Why did he say her name? What was going on?

It wasn’t like she hadn’t realised how shifty Noah had gotten over the past few weeks, it all coming to a peak when she saved him from almost crashing his car, but nothing that happened made her come to the conclusion why he would know her name.

When the tour had finally kicked off, Jules nerves were on edge. Noah on the other hand seemed to finally have some rest from his thoughts. There was hardly a moment where he could reflect on the strange events that had occurred in the days leading up to the tour.

What Jules didn’t expect, was, actually liking to be on the road. When she was still alive she had been a homebody. She had loved being alone and found it rather difficult to bear the idea of ​​being away for long periods of time. But watching Noah do what he loved had impacted her somehow.

He seemed to blossom more and more with each day leading up to the tour and Jules couldn’t help but adore it. It almost felt like his feelings were washing over her.

The morning of the first tour date had arrived. The whole crew already arrived yesterday, so they had the full day to prepare everything to their liking. Jules watched Noah as he was woken up by his phone ringing.

The small hotel they stayed in was far from luxurious but it did what it was supposed to and did not blow their budget.

"Yes?" Noah rasped into his phone and ran a hand through his hair. Jules slightly tilted her head and watched him stretch his neck. If she hadn't been in the midst of a full on crisis about him stuttering her name in his sleep, she would have addressed how she couldn't deny how attractive she found him certain things he did throughout the day. One of them being his morning stretches.

"Yes, I'm wide awake, Matt. In fact, I'm about to step out of my room and get a ride to the venue." Noah lied and set on the edge of his bed. Jules rolled her eyes at him while slightly smiling. He definitely had overslept but there wasn't anything she could do but watch him hectically start his day.

When he later arrived at the venue, he was greeted by his band mates and shortly after he was completely in his element.

Until late afternoon, Jules didn't leave his side. Even stopped him from hitting his head too hard for a couple of times. Even though she would consider that day as her first constantly stressful one since becoming his guardian angel, she also couldn't stop herself from smiling all the time, when she saw how happy Noah was.

Noah's band mates were a constant source of support. Jules observed their interactions, noting the unbreakable bond that had formed over countless tours and late-night jam sessions. Their music was their lifeline, and they embraced it with a fervor that had carried them through countless challenges.

As they gathered at early evening for the soundcheck, Jules overheard their animated conversations. Ruffilo, the bassist, couldn't contain his excitement. "This is it, guys! The start of the tour! Let's give 'em a show they won't forget!"

Jolly, the guitarist, added with a grin, "And let's party like rock stars afterward!"

The concert itself had been a whirlwind of energy and emotions. Jules had watched as Noah took the stage, his powerful voice resonating through the venue. The crowd's adoration was heartwarming, their voices merging with his like it was a match made in heaven.

As the final chords of the concert had echoed through the air, Jules had seen the sweat-soaked euphoria on Noah's face. The connection he forged with the audience was a testament to the raw power of his music, a force that transcended the boundaries of the stage.

Much to Jules' dismay, Noah had taken the "party like rock stars" statement, from Jolly earlier, a tad too serious.

Around two hours later the whole crew found themselves at a party in a nearby bar, celebrating another electrifying performance. The room was filled with loud laughter, music and the clinking of glasses.

Noah and the boys, still riding the high of the concert, were at the center of it all. Noah moved through the crowd with charisma and charm, the embodiment of the rock star lifestyle, trying to hide his insecurities. His deepest inner self wanted him to retreat to his hotel room, but knowing that this was not proper, he chose rather to drown his sorrows in alcohol, among the fans and partygoers. As the night wore on, he slowly but surely felt the effect of his drinks.

Normally he would already be fully into the party action with his thoughts, but this night was different. He kept catching himself thinking about this girl. The whole day he had pushed her out of his mind but now she was more present than before. Jules. His memories of that dream lingered at the edge of his consciousness, like a whisper in the dark.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted when an attractive woman joined him. It wasn't long before Noah recognized her face as one of the girls from front row. In fact, the crew had become very careful about who they invited to the after show parties, but every now and then people, often times girls with clear intentions, would sneak in. None of the guys were the kind who slept with fans, but Noah still allowed himself to flirt with one or the other from time to time. So when the woman asked him to join her for a drink, he gladly accepted, trying to get Jules of his mind.

When they set down at the bar, his gaze wandered. He glanced around, seeing his band mates and crew immersed in their own celebrations. The weight of his fame, the constant adoration of fans, and the relentless tour schedule weighed on him, and right at this moment, the temptation to escape it all was irresistible.

Drinks started to flow freely, and Noah lost track of time, the moments slipping away in a haze of laughter and intoxication. But as the night deepened, so did the weight of his choices. The memory of the girl in his dream resurfaced, like a distant melody that tugged at his heart.

Suddenly he felt like he wasn't getting enough oxygen anymore. Absently, he excused himself from the woman's company, not even remembering her name, as he navigated his way through the crowd and out of the building.

He was a little dizzy when he finally breathed in some fresh air and only now did he realize how drunk he really was.

He needed to get to the hotel. When Jules saw him like that, her neck hair began to stand up. She felt like a predator carefully watching her prey as she followed the stumbling figure through the streets.

In his intoxicated state, Noah paid little attention to the world around him. As he stumbled along the dimly lit street, the traffic light ahead of him turned red. Oblivious to the rules of the road, he continued walking, the sound of his own footsteps drowned out by the sounds of the city at night.

Jules, on the other hand, saw it all unfold.

A car, its headlights glaring, raced toward Noah with terrifying speed.

Panic started to creep up her skin as she realized what disaster was about to happen. She had no time to think and with a burst of adrenaline, Jules materialized and began to run towards Noah. With full force she crashed into him and therefore got him out of the car's path.

A muffled thud was heard as the two fell to the concrete floor, Jules' arms wrapped tightly around Noah. Out of reflex she had closed her eyes and now she couldn't bear to open them, hearing Noah's heartbeat against her ear, while her ears were ringing from adrenaline.

Noah, on the other hand, felt the same way. His heart had never beaten as fast as it had right now. She had saved him. He would have run straight into a car, but the girl that clung to him like there was no tomorrow had saved him from his sure death.

As they lay sprawled on the pavement, Jules, her heart pounding, breathed a sigh of relief as tears streamed down her face. "Are you okay?" she asked, concern etched on her face. She hadn't even realised how she began to cry.

Noah's shock was deep as he stared at her, struggling to find his voice. Despite his near-death experience and the adrenaline rushing through his body, he suddenly felt this calmness coursing through his body, as if the world had paused in this extraordinary moment.

"Never do that again, I swear to god. I'll run you over myself." Jules admonished, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and anger, as she tried to contain her cries. The realisation that she was about to loose her person, made her weep with even more force.

Noah was far too perplexed to respond, his gaze locked on her face, unwilling to let go of the security that enveloped him, when he looked at her.

Eventually, Jules pulled herself away from him, helping Noah to his feet. "Are you hurt?" she inquired, her eyes still filled with concern and tears.

Noah stared into her eyes that looked so familiar and felt almost like home to him and than slowly began to shake his head, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. As he began to regain his composure, he whispered his gratitude and scanned his surroundings. The car was gone. "Thank you for..."

But when he turned back to Jules, she had vanished into the night, leaving him standing alone on the quiet street. His confusion deepened, and he couldn't shake the feeling that his life had taken a surreal and inexplicable turn.

As he continued on his way to the hotel, the events of that night haunted him. He didn't feel a drop of alcohol in his system anymore, his ears still slightly ringing from the adrenaline. The girl who had saved him felt strangely familiar, yet he couldn't place where he had seen her before. Doubt and uncertainty gnawed at him, and he couldn't shake his confusion.

When he finally reached his hotel room, it hit him. He knew why she felt so familiar.

"Jules." he breathed out again.

Jules had saved him.

PART SIX COMING SOON

#noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fic #fic recs

[blahehblah]

i’m just gonna

Miracle-seven

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: fuck, it's almost one in the morning but here's the next part! I wanted things to be more spicey but I'm so tired so it lacks luster, my apologies.

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough

Bringing the blanket closer to my chin, I wrapped it tighter around me as I dug myself deeper into bed. The morning rays of the sun broke through the windows of the bus showing it was well into the morning. We'd been driving for almost eight hours now, me just waking up a while ago. Last night after leaving the venue, Folio showed me around the bus before letting me get settled. Compared to the crew's bus, the guy's bus was decently bigger with six bunks, a kitchen with living space up front, and a room in the back that they used to their gaming space. I was surprised at how spacious the bunks were but figured they had to be with how tall Jolly and Noah were.

Thinking of Noah, my eyes darted to the bunk directly across from me and saw he was awake browsing his phone, earbuds in both ears. Even though we finally got past what happened that night in Chicago, there still was this weird tension between us and the only reason that could be was because what happened that night at the Airbnb.

I leaned over the edge of my bunk and patted his arm to get his attention.

"Need something?" Noah questioned while taking out an ear bud.

"Do you think we can talk about what happened the other night? At the Airbnb."

This made him drop his phone to his bed and turned on his side to fully face me, one of his arms to burry underneath his pillow.

"I thought we didn't need to talk about it. You said it was a onetime thing," Noah reminded me.

"I know," I sighed. "And I meant it. But I don't want things to get awkward between us because of it."

Noah gave me a warm smile. "It's only awkward if one of us makes it and I don't plan too."

"Me either," I matched his smile.

We watched each other for a few more beats before Jolly popped his head through the door that closed off the bunks to the front of the bus.

"Oh, good. You're awake," he motioned towards Noah. "We've got a problem."

Those words made me sit up in my bunk while Noah stood to his feet, running a hand through his sleep tousled hair to fix it.

"What's up?"

Jolly told him to follow which he did but curiosity also weighed heavily on me so I did as well, seeing that both of the Nick's were awake, sitting on the couches. Noah sat down at the table in the kitchen while I sat across from him.

"Breakfast?" Nick asked while holding up a box of cereal.

"Please," I said with a smile.

With the bowl of cereal in front of me, I listened as Jolly explained what their problem was.

"They canceled the festival tomorrow. I guess Ohio was hit with some nasty storms so they thought better to be safe."

Noah's shoulders fell in disappointment.

"Damn. We're almost there, aren't we?" He asked.

Folio nodded. "The rest of the crew arrived about two hours ago. Matt's trying to figure out what to do."

"Should we head to the next city?" Nick suggested.

"Maybe we should meet up with the others and we can all leave together," Jolly said.

Noah rubbed at the faint stubble that covered his chin. "I feel bad for the fans."

Just then, as I was sitting there quietly eating my cereal, an idea sprouted in my mind but I thought it would be best to keep it to myself. This seemed like a Bad Omens meeting, yet they were willingly talking about any possible plans in front of me.

I took my bowl to the sink in the small kitchen to wash it and once finished; I turned on my heels and grabbed the edge of the counter behind me.

"I may have an idea," I muttered.

Four sets of eyes fell on me and Noah raised a brow at me.

"About?"

I took a deep breath, gaining the courage to tell them about this grand idea.

"So you guys feel terrible about the festival being canceled because you want to play for the fans, right?"

When they nodded, I felt stronger so stood up straighter. "What if you guys do this pop up event?"

"Pop up event?" Jolly repeated.

"Yeah," I nodded this time. "I've seen a few bands do this, and it was really popular with their fans. We can rent out a place to set up a table where fans can come get autographs and set up the merch booth so they can buy merch; that way they can still see you guys. We'll sell a certain amount of tickets for this."

Noah and Jolly shared a look while Folio gave me a huge smile, clearly loving the idea.

"Do you think it's sort of last minute?" Nick asked.

I scoffed lightly. "You guys seem to forget about much your fans love you. If we announce this, I guarantee tickets will sell out in a few hours."

"I like it," Jolly admitted. "But what about the people that already bought tickets to see a concert?"

My bottom lip caught between my teeth as I thought of something else they could do. Just because they couldn't play at the festival didn't mean they couldn't play somewhere else.

"What if you guys play somewhere else?" I asked.

Noah hesitated with apprehension as he leaned his arm over the back of his seat and I did my best not to gawk at the tattoos that rippled against the muscles of his arms. I needed to stay focused so I can prove to them that my crazy, last-minute idea wasn't that; crazy.

"I don't know, Y/N. It might be hard to book something so last minute," Folio spoke next.

My arms crossed over my chest, and I tapped my foot in agitation. "You're supposed to be on my side, Folio."

He held up his hands. "Trust me, I am. I like the idea of the pop up event but the last minute show might be harder to pull off."

"Please," I waved him off. "Someone in Ohio owes me a favor, a huge one at that. Give me some time and I'll get it all handled."

"Who do you know in Ohio?" Nick wondered.

"Some guy," I shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

Noah, however, thought it was because a muscle in his jaw ticked as his shoulders went rigid.

"An ex?" He asked through clenched teeth.

"Aw, are you jealous, Noah?" I leaned over the table closer to him. "That's cute, but no. Someone I met while I was in college. I've never had a boyfriend."

"Really?" Noah asked.

I didn't miss the surprise in his voice.

"Yeah. I've had hook ups during college but nothing ever turned serious. None of them were worth to have a future with."

He shifted in his seat and I worried I might have said something wrong but when he pulled me down into the seat next to him, Noah slid over his laptop in front of me.

"You want to prove to us you can do this, better get started," he smirked.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You can have a little faith in me."

Noah bumped his shoulder with mine and stayed leaning into me. "I have the upmost faith in you, angel. That you won't pull this off."

Now my eyes buldged almost out of my head as a squeak of disbelieve fell from my lips.

"What do I get when I pull this off?" I debated with him.

The rest of the guys looked on amused, waiting to see what Noah would say.

"What do you want?" He shrugged.

I thought about it for a long moment, making a show of tapping my head with a finger, like how Winnie the Pooh did in the movie. Although, I put some thought to it because Noah Sebastian was asking what I wanted.

So many fucking things if they were coming from you.

Instead of something risqué, I chose something tamer and when the thought graced my mind, a large grin pulled at my lips.

"If I'm able to book the pop up and show successfully, I get to design your next tattoo."

Expecting him to say no, Noah simply leaned back into his seat to show his covered arms in tattoos then lifted his legs, not showing much space of skin.

"I have little space left but for you, angel. I'd find even a sliver of skin. You've got yourself a deal."

With that, I cracked my fingers and went to work finding not only a place to host their pop up event but also a concert. They were supposed to be playing in Cleveland so I started looking for smaller halls that could house the pop up event.

While I worked, Jolly went off to fill in Matt about my idea. Both of the Nicks retreated to the back area of the bus to play some kind of video game, and Noah moved from his spot next to me to the couch so he could stretch his long body. We didn't speak, letting the silence fall around us like a blanket, but I felt his gaze on my often. At one point, I looked over the laptop at him and noticed he was watching me with a smile.

"What? Is there something on my face?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"No," he shook his head. "You look beautiful, angel."

I blushed, the warmth vibrating throughout my entire existence.

"Right."

Noah sat up straighter on the couch so he could see me better.

"You don't believe me?" He asked.

I shrugged. "For someone who barley talked to me last tour and when this one started, you're getting pretty cheeky with me."

"You're also not as closed off as you were last time," Noah noted.

"Well, I thought you hated me," I grumbled, eyes scanning the screen in front of me.

Noah came to sit in front of me and shut the laptop so we had to look at each other. There was a dull look of hurt in his brown iris'.

"You thought I hated you?" His voice was quiet, almost broken.

I shrugged one shoulder while pulling at a loose fabric on my sweatpants. "You didn't talk to me much so I thought I'd done something."

"Angel," Noah sighed.

"Don't say it's because of what happened in Chicago," I interrupted. "I felt this way long before then."

He fell back into the bench seat behind him, a low noise crawling its way through his throat, my confession taking him by surprise.

"I never hated you, Y/N. Even what happened after Chicago. And let me set the record straight; I never hated you because of what happened that night. I was upset that you could of seriously been hurt and never realized it."

My eyes cast down to my hands that were now folded together on the table in front of me.

"I know," I whispered.

Noah reached over and linked our hands together. "I'm sorry for the hurtful things I've said and how I've been towards you. Please know I never hated you."

I swallowed thickly at his apology; it was sincere. Probably the first time I'd ever hear something so truthful from Noah. I gave his hand a tight squeeze, letting him know I accepted his apology.

Feeling better about our conversation, Noah put the laptop back in front of me and now watched me from right across of the table. My phone was set on the table next to it and it began flashing with notifications from Only Fans so I quickly flipped it over so Noah didn't notice.

It's been a few days since I posted anything and my subscriber count went up a few but still not enough to be making a lot of money. I knew it was because the things I posted were tame compared to what was already on the sight from others but I wasn't willing to change my rules. This was only a temporary thing so I could pay Lana until I was back home. Then I would deactivate my account.

"Hiding something?" Noah questioned with a knowing smug smile as he peered over the laptop.

"Nope, just stupid emails," I lied and forced my eyes to look back at the screen in front of me.

I had a message up to my old college lab partner, wondering if he still had that hook up with someone from the local mall in Cleveland. There was a decent sized space that was used to be rented out for meetings or parties. It would be perfect for the pop up event.

A notification of a new email popped up on the corner of the screen and seeing who it was from, I clicked on it.

Dear MS. Y/L/N,

I'm glad that you reached out. We heard about the cancelation of the festival because of the weather. We here at House of Blues would love to have Bad Omens play here tomorrow night. Attached is a copy of the contact that can be signed then sent over. I hope you understand that with it being a last-minute booking, extra fee's apply. Please let me know if you'd like to proceed.

Dan Sorenson

House of Blues.

"Ha!" I yelled, turning the screen to face Noah.

His eyes darted back and forth as he read the screen, his face not changing from the smug smile he wore.

"Well, looks like the show is booked but you still have to deal with the pop up event," He reminded me.

I stuck my tongue out at him while turning the laptop back to me. "Yes, I know that."

Noah groaned while griping my chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "If you stick that pretty little tongue out at me one more time, angel, I'm going to bite his so hard it bleeds."

My skin ignited with a blaze so hot it surprised me Noah didn't rear back in hissing pain. There was a slickness between my legs from his promise and I almost did it again so he could act on it. But Folio walked from the back of the bus and with a curious gaze at us, he sat down on the couch in the living area.

"What's going on here?" He asked.

Noah's eyes flashed before he let my face go and went over to sit next to Folio. As their conversation faded to the background of my subconscious, I blinked a few times to center myself and noticed a new message appeared on the screen in front of me.

Y/N! It's been awhile? How're things?

I can definitely book our event space for your friend's band tomorrow. There's a lot of us that are familiar with Bad Omens so we'd be happy to host your pop up event. What time did you need?

By now, Jolly and Nick came to join the others, and I grabbed the laptop to walk over to them, showing the message.

"I'll be damned," Folio whistled low.

"I'm impressed," Jolly said with a chuckle.

Nick smacked Noah against his shoulder. "Looks like I'll be tattooing whatever design she comes up with."

"I guess so," he winked at me. "I'll admit when I'm wrong and I was. Thanks for doing that, Y/N."

I smiled while setting the laptop on the table before falling into the couch between Folio and Jolly. "I've already posted it all to the Bad Omens social media and sent the details over to Matt so he can get his end tied up."

"You should be our social media ambassador," Folio said.

Immediately I shook my head. "No, that seems like a lot of work I'm not qualified for."

Nick snorted. "You booked two huge events on last-minute notice and got it spread like wildfire online. Tickets are already being bought."

I peered over at his phone that he titled towards me and sure enough, ticket sales were already booming for both events. But I still wasn't convinced.

"Don't you guys switch off posting on the Bad Omens social medias?" I asked.

"Yeah but it'll be easier if you took it over. We forget sometimes and it gets messy who was supposed to post something," Folio said.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, really thinking about his offer. It's not like it was a hard job, it was something I did on my own social media.

"Does it come with a pay raise?"

It was supposed to be a joke, but Noah responded right away.

"Of course. It's a lot more work than being the merch girl, which you won't be anymore. We can find someone to replace you."

This was not something I expected to happen when I woke up this morning, but I wasn't complaining. The pay raise would be significant and maybe I could deactivate my only fans page sooner than expected.

"Okay. I'll do it."

For the next while, the guys told me what my new position would entail and what I was in charge of. While Byran took professional photos and videos of them, I would still take some and post to their tik tok page or Instagram stories. When Bryan finished editing whatever photos he took, he would send them over to me and I would post them. I would also be in charge of dealing with messages that came through any platform.

By the time we ironed everything out, I excuse myself to my bunk, exhaustion overtaking my body. It was well into the afternoon and knowing we would be in Cleveland soon, I desperately wanted to nap before then.

As I lay in my bunk, I ended up staring at my Only Fans page and thought about ways I could revamp it to get a few more subscribers. Even with my new job title and pay, I couldn't give it up yet. Lana's paycheck was due tomorrow and while I had enough for it, it would clear out my bank account.

I pulled tight the curtain to my bunk as best as I could and stripped out of my shirt, pants, and bra. I wouldn't be able to record a video right now so a picture was the best option. Instead of covering my breasts, I kept them on display as I held up my phone, snapping a few different angles making sure my face was covered. Once satisfied with how I looked, I got dressed again and uploaded a few of the pictures to my page.

By the time that was finished, my eyes were heavy with slumber so I curled into the corner of the bunk, letting sleep encase around me. I was so deep in sleep that I barely heard Noah's phone go off and a loud groan of pleasure echoed from his bunk.

"You've got to be kidding me, angel. Right next to me."

"I can't believe how well everything turned out," I smiled as I walked alongside Folio in the mall.

The pop up event ended a few minutes ago and as mentioned, everything went smoothly. Fans were ecstatic to meet the guys and get their autographs. Merch sold like crazy and thankfully, Matt and Davis could cover my old job until they could find a replacement. Matt thought my new job was a great idea, mentioning that I was always made for more than just selling merch.

"You did that," Folio bumped his shoulder into mine, a proud smile on his face.

Jolly and Nick were in front of our group, leading us to a restaurant so we could get something to eat before the show tonight. Another event I threw together. To say I was proud of myself was an understatement. I wanted to so badly call my mom to tell her but knew that she would only respond with three words.

"Who are you?"

I hadn't heard from either my mom or Lana today which made me worry because with how the last phone call conversation went, I could only think of the worst.

Noah made a noise of agreement in the back of his throat and I looked up to him as he walked next to me. From the second he stepped off looking like that, I was so wound up and turned on that I kept squeezing my aching core between my legs to curb that itch. Noah had the top half of his hair up in a bun and wore a baggy shirt with an anime logo and name across it and a pair of black shorts.

I wanted to lick every inch of muscles on his thighs; he looked that delicious.

But something was different with him today. Noah made sure that he never strayed far from me and during the event, his eyes were almost always on me. He refused to let me out of his sight. The brown of his eyes drank in every inch of me as well and if I didn't find a corner to rub one out, I would explode.

We found a restaurant inside the mall and all slide into a corner booth at the back of the large room. With how we sat, Noah and I were seated alone on one side, kind of away from Jolly, Nick, and Folio. The three of them chatted about what they were going to get and as I was about to ask Noah what he wanted, I felt his hand grasp the inside of my thigh and I sucked in a breath.

"Angel," he breathed in my ear.

I hummed when his fingers slowly moved higher between my legs. Our actions were underneath the table so no one could see.

"I can't stop thinking about your face when you cum," he admitted. "Can you do that for me again, please?"

I shouldn't do this. It was only supposed to be a onetime thing. But I was also so fucking horny, I needed this so bad. And he asked nicely.

My eyes fluttered shut when his finger slipped between the waistband of my leggings and without thinking, I spread my legs wider for him. If he didn't understand that, I gave a firm nod while keeping up the facade of looking over the menu.

Noah did the same, his eyes scanning his menu all while his finger slipped between my panties and pussy.

I bit down hard on my lip to keep the moan quiet when his finger brushed along my folds, knowing he felt how wet I'd been all day. He turned his face slightly towards me, his eyes sparkling with arousal.

"So wet already," he mouthed.

Not trusting myself to be quiet, I nodded as his finger pushed inside of me, pumping slow at first to work me open. Then another finger joined, and I nearly dropped my head on the table. Noah's fingers were long where they could reach that spot with ease.

Noah leaned closer to me making it look like he was talking about something so normal. "You're so tight, angel. Are you going to cum already?"

"Yes," I whined.

"Have you been wet all day for me?"

Always.

I nodded which made Noah smirk. "Be a good girl and don't make a noise. I can't have the guys knowing what I'm doing to you underneath the table."

Fuck; Noah Sebastian was going to kill me.

As he talked to Folio, giving nothing away, his fingers worked inside of me fast and when his thumb pressed against my clit, I nearly came with a scream. My hips bucked up into his hand and I ended up setting the menu up to it could cover my face as my lips fell open in a silent moan. The orgasm was so close, a bright white light brushing over my vision and heat spread at the base of my spine to my scalp. I shook in Noah's grasp as my pussy walls clenched around his fingers.

"Noah," I breathed when the orgasm washed over me in a tidal wave.

I shamelessly dry humped his hand to ride over the last little of the aftershocks and almost whined when Noah turned to look at me. He pulled out his fingers, the sudden loss of warmth making me go slack against the booth, and brought them to his mouth. I watched in my post orgasmic haze as he licked them clean, his eyes blown wide with blackness of his own desires.

"What do you guys think of this place? We tried it back in Iowa, figured it was a good choice," Nick said.

The three of them were still oblivious to what happened.

"Best meal I've ever fucking had," Noah hummed, my arousal glistening his lips.

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #fic recs

[blahehblah]

i’m definitely going to have to read it, i miss you so much viv!!! ❤️❤️❤️

manacled has me in a chokehold and high reeve draco is top tier HE COULDN’T LIVE WITHOUT HER UGH I CRY

LAILA WEVE COME FULL CIRCLE hehehehehe of you haven’t read secrets and masks babe YOU SHOULD (mind the tags tho is spooky scary) but omg also lovely to hear from you 🤟🏻💕

#viv my angel #manacled #toofadedtofight

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i’m intrigued

An Angel for Noah || Noah Sebastian x OC [Part 1]

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @cafekitsune

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x Jules (she/her)

SUMMARY: When Jules finds herself assigned to be a rockstar's guardian angel, she couldn't be more overwhelmed.

WARNINGS: ANGST (LIKE A LOT), talks about death and grief, talks about mental health issues, talks about religion, swearing, … (each chapter is going to have individual content warning, if I forget something pls let me know)

A/N: Hello! I'm back with a new series. I’m not religious at all but I wanted to do something like this because it spooked in my head for years but I never found a fitting story line. Also this was my way to tribute Keaton Pierce, whose music I loved and whose death still makes me so incredibly sad. So this fanfic is dedicated to Keaton and therefore very dear to me.

Keep in mind, this takes place in an alternative universe. Even though I write about real people, the way I write them has nothing to do with how they are in real life.

If you wanna be added to the tag list, please let me know in the comments or DM me.

When her alarm rang at 6 AM, Jules was everything but pleased. The weekend had been way to short and the gravity of life slowly began to hang on her shoulders again. Sometimes she couldn't believe how stressed she was at such a young age.

She was twenty-two years old, a music student at Juilliard and literally all the pride and joy of her family. Being an only child of a couple who wished to have children for years, made it very clear that Jules was going to have everything she needed in life.

So when she crawled out of her bed and made her way into her bathroom, she reminded herself of how proud her parents were always going to be.

When she looked at the clock again, she realised she was running late, so she quickly grabbed her coat and scarf, before heading to the front door, where she reached for her backpack and keys.

Not even five minutes later she ran out of the apartment building and looked from left to right. Quickly she started to walk in the direction of her university. She knew she couldn't be late again. It was only weeks before a very big performance with the school orchestra and this semester she finally got the opportunity to play one of the first violins.

When she reached one of the big crossroads, she quickly glanced at the green traffic light and than back at her phone, ready to dial her best friend's number to inform her about her possibly being late.

But she hadn't had the time for that, because the next thing she knew was a sharp pain in her whole left side and than a hit on her head.

When she woke up again, her head rang. The room she was in, was so bright that her eyes just couldn't adjust to it. It took her several minutes to finally realise where she was. She was laying in a hospital bed. Or was she even laying? She just noticed her parents in front of her. Eagerly Jules tried to remember what had happened but she just couldn't put the pieces together.

"Mom?" She asked weakly but couldn't hear anything except her mother's muffled cries.

Jules felt so different. She could remember the immense pain she had right before she was here but she just couldn't think of the thing that made her feel like that. When she tried to get up, it was easier than she thought. Everything just felt so light and easy.

She sat at the edge of her hospital bed, when she realised that she had no cables attached to her. Why was she even here, when she wasn't even in pain?

"Mom? Dad?" She said again but again her parents didn't answer her.

She sighed before standing up and turning to the bed, when it hit her just like the vehicle earlier this morning.

Why was she still laying in that hospital bed?

Jules's gaze wondered between her parents and herself. Her parents were crying. Her mom almost crumbled in her father's arms, while he tried to hold himself together.

When she looked back at herself in that hospital bed, she just couldn't believe it. She looked awful. Her hair was tangled and a bandage was wrapped around her head. She couldn't even recognize herself anymore. There was no color on her except the blood sticking on her forehead and neck. When Jules noticed that even on her other self no cables were attached, it really hit her.

She was dead.

Her parents cried because they lost the only child they had. The child they loved more than anything. And only because she was looking at her damn phone.

"The driver is still alive." She heard a familiar voice behind her and jumped a little. When she turned, an older man stood at the door of the hospital room and she instantly recognized him.

"Grandpa?" She asked the man in front of her and couldn't believe her eyes. He stood there like she remembered him. Very colorful and satisfied.

"The driver is still alive. A single mother. She also looked at her phone and didn't realize she drove over a red traffic light." He explained and stepped next to his granddaughter.

Jules didn't know what to say so she just looked at her parents again, who couldn't bear to leave her side.

"What now?" She asked her grandpa, who put an arm around her.

"Now begins your new forever, my dear." He answered her softly before guiding her away from the bed. Jules realised she had began to cry. Everything in her wanted to go back inside her body. She didn't want to go. She didn't want to leave her parents.

"Five more minutes." - "Jules, you know it wouldn't be just five minutes."

Her sobs became more hysterical. "I can't go, grandpa. I can't leave them."

Jules closed her eyes for a couple of seconds and tried to contain her cries but when she opened her eyes again, she was in a white room. Confused she looked around her while her tears ran down her face. Her grandpa was gone. Everything around her was just white.

"No!" She screamed and tried to run in one direction to get back to her parents but soon her head was met with a transparent wall. She fell to the white ground and held her head in reflex. She couldn't even feel the impact. In fact she couldn't feel any of the things that happened to her. No head injury, no pain at all.

"Let me out! I NEED TO GO HOME!" She yelled with so much anger and sadness in her voice that she knew she would have had a sore throat if she hadn't been dead and therefore numb already.

"Fuck." She swore and ran a hand over her face. This couldn't be real, this was all just an obscure dream of hers. She would be woken up by her alarm in a couple of minutes and she would go to university and she would drink a coffee with her best friend Meghan after classes and than she would call her parents and talk to her mom for hours, like she always did. "Fucking hell!"

"In fact, it is not." A voice suddenly said, causing Jules to get up from the floor and look around the white room. There was a man she didn't recognise at first, but when she got closer she got even more confused.

"Aren't I supposed to be dead? Why the hell do you look like Oli Sykes?" She asked the person in front of her. He laughed.

"No worries, darling. Oliver is pretty much alive." The man exclaimed while Jules eyed the guy closely. There was literally no doubt, he looked like Oli.

"Then why the fuck do you look like him?" - "Oh, yeah... I'm an angel... You know... Heaven and shit." - "I don't believe in god and that doesn't explain your appearance."

"That is kinda rude, Julliett." The man walked through the empty white room and looked around before his gaze landed on her again. "You may know about angel appearances. We normally don't look very human-like. So we got the regulation to turn into someone our new angel trainee wouldn't be scared of... And since I know about the dirty little fanfiction you read when you thought you were alone, I thought I would make myself attractive to you."

Jules mouth fell open. Did an fucking angel just out call her and her taste in fiction?

Her cheeks must have been a dark red tone, because the Oli look-a-like cleared his throat and began to talk again, "No worries, I wasn't the one who was spying on you. That was own your guardian angel."

Jules couldn't even talk. She hadn't even had the time to process her passing and now some Oli Sykes guy tried to tell her something about heaven and guardian angels.

"I know this is a lot, so imma just talk you through it. I'm just here because your guardian angel is a very busy one... You know... Sometimes not enough people are fitted to become guardian angels and than our workers need to protect more than one person and than things get messy... That's actually why you aren't playing your violin at the moment... BUT... To his defense, he really has some difficult people to watch over and that is where you come into the game." 'Oli' told her, while her mouth still stood slightly open. She knew if she would have been alive right now she would have drank herself into a coma.

"And who is my guardian angel? And where the fuck did my grandpa go?" Jules finally asked.

"Your grandpa his back at his well deserved rest. He just wanted to make sure you got here and wouldn't freak out." - "But I AM freaking out right now." - "Well, you are stuck with us so no need to panic." - "How kind of you."

"To your other question. You guardian angel will be here any minute." 'Oli' explained and with that there was a door banging shut and a stressed man appeared in the nothingness this room was.

"I'm so sorry... I couldn't make it earlier." A man stumbled into the room. He had blonde hair and soft face features. His nose was decorated with a nostril and he wore a band shirt and a black jeans. He instantly made Jules feel comfortable.

"Jules!" The guy exclaimed happily and gifted her one of the most heart-warming smiles she ever received. Immediately she recognized the feeling she had in her stomach right now. She felt it pretty often over the last couple of months. Was it him? Did she always feel it when he was near?

"I'm Keaton... Your guardian angel." He introduced himself to her and she felt herself began to smile. She liked that name.

"I know this is all very confusing. I do remember being in your position pretty well." He instantly started to explain and Jules noticed how his smile turned sad for a moment. He hadn't been here for long. "They are very picky about their guardian angels, so consider yourself lucky to be part of the team." He joked, before looking at the Oli-angel.

"You can go if you want, I'll take care of her." Keaton told the angel and with a last examining look, Oli smiled a little and than disappeared into thin air.

For a couple of seconds Keaton looked like he didn't know what exactly he wanted to say, so Jules decided to take the lead. "I just wanted to thank you for helping me. The Oli look-a-like told me you were really busy with watching over us all... You did your best. I felt protected... You couldn't save me from being dumb and looking at my phone."

Keaton looked surprised by her statement, blinking a couple of seconds before talking. "Thank you. That means a lot to me... I feel really guilty though... You were literally just an adult and now... You are here."

Jules shrugged her shoulders and gave him a reassuring look. "So? Guardian angel? What am I going to do?"

Keaton reached out to grab Jules's hand and before she knew she sat on a bench near a forest. The scenery was beautiful. The sky slowly turned into red tones while the cold wind blew around her face. She wasn't cold, but she felt everything.

"I wasn't really fond of this whole Heaven thing myself... But they really except every opinion. If you don't believe in god, it's fine. If you do, it is also fine. They usually don't have anything to do with this whole thing anyways." Keaton started to explain. "You will be assigned a person, you will guide over."

"And how exactly do I do that?" - "That is yours to find out."

Jules looked at him confused.

"You will find your ways. The only things I can tell you are: You protect them. You need to guide them. You need to prevent them from making mistakes. If you fail, they fail. If you succeed, they will thrive." Keaton explained and Jules didn't know what to say, so she just nodded confused.

"They asked me to assign you someone. You always get to watch over someone that matches you and your energy. It will be easy. Really. I got the opportunity to watch over my friends. My best friends to be exact." He explained further. "So I am more than honored to tell you, you were the first person I was assigned that I didn't already know when I was alive and it was such a fun experience seeing how a twenty-two year old reminded me so much of myself when I was younger."

Jules eyes turned a bit glossy. Seeing Keaton talk about his past and everything, made her so honored and sad at the same time. They were just two souls that were took way to early.

"So, I'm literally going to be the one to support you by taking over some of your duties?" Jules asked interested, nearly forgetting the fact, that she died not even 24 hours earlier. Keaton nodded.

"But since I know you, I decided to give you just one task." Keaton than explained, "It is something I trust you with and I just know, you are going to be the right person for it."

Jules gestured for him to continue talking.

"You need to watch over my friend Noah for me."

PART TWO COMING SOON

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #fic recs

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stinking noah with his complex 😤

Fic: The Devil's Prayer Book - Part Five || Bad Omens

Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: “If you must play, decide upon three things at the start: the rules of the game, the stake, and the quitting time.” He's a part time housemate but after losing a game of poker you find yourself completely at his mercy for one whole week. Sounds simple? Not quite. It never is.

CW: Language, negotiation of sexual relationships, free use sex arrangement and inexperienced Dom/sub relationship. Dirty talk, very mild high protocol kink (outfitting), use of sex toys, masturbation in public settings, impact play/kink: spanking and punishment. Still with the mixed signals because Noah is the king of terrible communicators. PSA: don't fuck with impact play and spanking unless you're prepared to communicate openly and honestly. Don't let anyone hit you if you don't trust them. As always, aftercare is essential and very very sexy. Look after each other. Content warnings will be on a chapter by chapter basis.

A.N.: title from a proverb "a stack of cards is the devil's prayer book". I am forever indebted to to @ladyveronikawrites and @the-way-of-words and @celticthroughandthrough for their assistance, expertise, editing and beta-ing help, cheerleading and handholding.

Tag Team: @kingdomof-omens @cncohshit @hopelessromantic17 @throwingmetothelions @the-way-of-words @strawberryruffilo @ladyveronikawrites @badnoahmens @bluegarrett @itsvictoriaarose @thebadchic @chels3a-smile @theoneandonlykymberlee @bluechalcedony @mixxymess @thesazzb @thatswhatgaysaid  @collapsedglasshouses @thescarlettvvitch

Please DM me or comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list

Find Part One here Part Two here Part Three here Part Four here

The beeping of your alarm wakes you at six am. Sitting up, you smack at your phone, picking it up and swiping the icon to turn off the shrieking device. 

"What in the hell…?" Noah groans and scowls, opening one eye to squint sleepily at you.

"I have to go into the office today," you mutter, searching for your robe in the mess of the bed covers. Noah makes a displeased sound, yawning as his eyes start to flutter closed again. You pause, drawing the covers up to your chin, watching him drift between the worlds. 

If asked, you wouldn’t have lied: it had startled you to wake up with him still beside you; you were sure he’d have snuck off at some point in the night. But he hadn’t, and you hadn’t woken to question why or settle elsewhere, and so here you were, waking up to see him lying in your bed, his sleeping face relaxed and guileless with no hint of the tense, unpredictable man from the night before. 

You long to slide back under the covers, curl yourself around him, and drift back to sleep. While you watch he stirs, spreading his long limbs out across the bed and pulling a pillow further under his head so he can wrap his arms around it snuggly. You grin despite the residuum of disquiet in the back of your mind, the lingering ghosts of questions unanswered. 

Carefully so as not to disturb him further, you slip from bed and into the bathroom.

Your bed is empty when you emerge. You can hear him pottering around in the kitchen, noisily opening and closing cabinets as he searches for something. Throwing on your gym shorts and an oversized shirt, you pull a brush through your hair and shove on your glasses, making your way out to find him. 

“Now why the fuck are you up and awake at this hou–” You stop mid-sentence when Noah shoves a mug of fresh coffee under your nose. Your eyes almost cross at the rich, bitter smell and you let out a pleased sound, taking it from him, sitting down immediately on the bar stool by the counter.

“Some might say you’re a goblin,” you announce, “and I may have once called you a righteous pain in the ass–” Noah snorts in amusement, sliding a fried egg onto a bed of chopped greens before handing you the plate. “I –thank you– I, however, may have to downgrade this classification to ‘minor inconvenience to my person’.”

He smirks, leaning against the counter as he sips from his own mug. “You’re welcome, Edgelord.” His head tilts to the side as he looks you up and down. “You’re not wearing that to work, are you?” 

You make a face at him. “Of course not,” you scoff, shoveling the last of the greens into your mouth with a bite of toast. Your chewing slows when you see the look on his face, the dark shadow that passes over his eyes, and the way he leans forward on his elbows on the countertop. The hair on the back of your neck prickles and you sit up straight. 

“Will you let me find you something to wear?” he asks quietly. Your eyes narrow and Noah rolls his eyes. “From your wardrobe,” he clarifies, enunciating the word exaggeratedly. “I’m not going to send you to the office in a fucking latex body suit and a gimp mask, what do you think this is, Bang Brothers?” 

That makes you smile, despite yourself. “Fine,” you retort, getting to your feet.

He follows you into your room, whistling through his teeth as you fling open your wardrobe sliding doors. 

“Wow, nice threads.” He plays with the hem of one of your dresses. “Why don’t I see you in half this stuff?” 

You snort in amusement. “Because I have no reason to wear this stuff around you,” you reply, grinning. “Go on, hurry up or I’m going to be late.” 

He hands you his breakfast bowl, grinning before he starts to rummage around. 

You watch him pull a few pieces out, holding them out then back together, tossing a few on the bed and returning others to the rack. Finally, he makes a triumphant sound and pulls out a black blouse that buttons high on your neck, holding it out with a ruched, black pencil skirt. You raise an eyebrow at him. 

“You got a teacher kink or something?” you quip, earning yourself a roll of his eyes skyward. 

“Fuck off, no I just like this look on you,” he retorts, making a face at you. “Where’s your lingerie?” 

You point at a drawer, watching as he pulls it open and starts digging around in there, too. When he straightens holding a matching red lace set, this time it’s your turn to roll your eyes. 

“Bro, you are nothing if not predictable,” you mutter, snatching them from his hands. He smiles widely. 

“I’m a simple man with simple tastes.” 

“You got the simple part right,” you mutter to yourself. 

“I heard that.” 

“You were supposed to.” 

He finds you a set of thigh high stockings and some heels in the shoe rack as well. You dress while he waits, leaning against the wardrobe door with his arms crossed as he watches you in silence.

“Wait, there’s one more thing,” he says suddenly as you slip on the heels. He disappears out the door and down to his room; you can hear him rummaging around in his closet and you strain to listen, even though you know it will be pointless; sitting down on the bed you take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. 

“Here!” Noah reappears in the doorway. He holds up a wrapped box with a grin. “This is for you.” 

You take it from him with shaking hands, pulling the bow. This is the second gift he’s bought you and, truth be told, the first one was a bit of a shock to you so to say you’re nervous unwrapping this one is an understatement. 

Your concern is justified when you peel back the wrapping to find an egg vibrator. Remote controlled. Swallowing hard, you raise your eyes to meet Noah’s. 

“I want you to wear this today,” he murmurs, taking the box from your hands and lifting the lid. “Come here.” 

“But I have–” 

“Text me your schedule,” he cuts you off, “I won’t turn it on when you’re in the boardroom. Pinky swear.” He grins, holding up his pinky finger and wiggling it in front of your face. “The rest of the day…? You are mine.” 

You eyeball the small, pink egg he holds up in front of you, its long, silicone tail dangling limply. Noah takes a step toward you. 

“Is it your first time using one of these?” There’s a tiny hint of incredulity in his tone, a dark spark in his wide brown eyes that brings a flush of embarrassment to your cheeks. You nod. 

“I– I’ve never trusted anyone enough,” you admit quietly, averting your eyes from his face. He says nothing to that, but a finger crooks under your chin, lifting your face up. 

“Look at me,” he says, low and firm. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, dragging it down along with your jaw. “You can trust me. I won’t break your rules.” 

His face is tender, soft and warm, and when he leans in to press his forehead to yours, your breath catches in your throat. “You told me about your ex-boyfriend once, remember? And I said if I ever saw him I’d–” 

“You’d break his face,” you finish for him, grinning. “I remember.” 

“I also said you were my people, and that I’d never let another guy betray your trust like that, didn’t I?” His eyebrows rise when you say nothing. “You can include me in that. I’d never break your trust.” He leans in, his mouth close to your cheek. “I just want to make you feel good.” 

How can you say no? Your thighs clench involuntarily and you shiver, even though the heat from his body so close makes your skin sheen with perspiration. 

“Fine,” you whisper, swallowing thickly; clearing your throat. “But I will send you my schedule and block out my meeting, and my site visit I have scheduled.” 

The smile that spreads across his face could be the sun coming out from behind a cloud. You squeal as he wraps an arm around your waist and hoists you onto your desk, his muttered “up” echoing off your neck as you wrap your arms around his shoulders to steady yourself. 

“Don’t you need to charge it first?” you whisper. 

“Already done,” comes his reply, and you can hear the smug satisfaction in his tone. “Washed it, too. I got you.” 

His palm is warm against your thigh as he presses your legs wide enough to fit between them. Your skirt rides up, moving further up your leg as his hand slides higher. His touch is gentle. He doesn’t say a single word, save for the small huff of happiness he lets out when his fingertips find the edge of your panties. 

“Noah…” You breathe his name without thinking, your back arching as he slips his fingers beneath the elastic to push them to the side. 

“It’s okay, I said I got you,” he whispers. You let out a gasp as one finger runs the length of your slit. “You’re so damn wet already.” 

His other hand moves from where it rests on your other thigh, and you hiss a little at the coolness of the silicone egg as it presses against your damp folds. Noah twists the tip of it, pressing it against you a little more, and your outer lips give way to it easily. It feels huge, like there’s no way it will fit, but then Noah’s thumb brushes over your clit and you gasp, canting your hips forward with a jolt. The egg slips past your entrance and Noah urges it into you with one finger until it sits snug inside. 

“There’s my good girl,” Noah murmurs, leaning back to catch your gaze. “That feel okay?” 

Your eyes are wide now but you nod. You feel full, not uncomfortably so, but when you shift you can definitely feel it in there, pressing against something that sets your core molten. 

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispers, wiping his hands on his shorts before he smooths them over your hair to cup your cheeks. “So brave.” 

The praise makes your insides purr. “It’s not as big as I thought it would feel,” you breathe, staring up at him. His eyes are wide and dark, void-like, his jaw loose as he breathes fast and shallow. It’s only this close you see him like this, and it sends a heat through you that aches when it settles deep and low in your belly. 

He doesn’t move. For a moment you think he might lean down and kiss you but you jump when your phone beeps an alert for the Trolley line you usually catch to work, Noah clears his throat, turns away and lets you climb down from the desk. You smooth your skirt down, straightening your blouse. 

“You should go,” he mutters, picking up the box and its wrapping. “Don’t want to be late for work.” 

Nodding, you reach for your bag. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

He nods, clearly distracted, turning a piece of paper over in his fingers, something that looks like an instruction manual. Sighing, you turn and leave the room. Your hand is on the door handle when your insides light up, the sudden gentle buzz inside your pussy making you squeak and jolt forward, grabbing onto the door frame. 

“It works then.” 

Eyes wide, you turn to Noah, who stands in the hall entrance, leaning against the wall with his phone in his hands and a broad, shit-eating grin on his face. 

You take a deep breath and say nothing as you open the door and slip from your apartment. 

It was going to be a very, very long day. 

True to his word, Noah leaves you alone during your meetings. If you knew better, you’d think he’d gotten distracted in the studio and forgotten about it and you; there’s not a hint of movement inside you the whole ride to work, and the first hour at the office as you spend time catching up with staff on their various projects and client portfolios. It feels good to be back among them, although the temp desk you take in the corner cubicle is drab, dry, and impersonal. 

You’d not sat down for fifteen minutes after your meeting when a text comes through.

Noah: I forgot to tell you the rules. 

Rules? Rules?! What fucking rules? You swallow, your stomach sinking a little.

Noah: You cannot take it out. Don’t take it out unless you end up in the ER. I’m your emergency contact so I’ll know if that happens. Don’t. Take. It out. 

Okay, that’s fine, you can live with that. It’s only five more hours until you get home, it’s fine. 

You said rules, plural. What’s the others?

Noah: There’s only one more: under no circumstances, at all, are you allowed to orgasm. 

You stare down at your phone screen, blinking. 

Are you serious?

Noah: Like a heart attack. Have a good afternoon. 

Immediately, the little egg inside you buzzes to life. You close your eyes, breathing deeply through it. 

God, it feels good. Light, gentle massaging pulses that caress your walls enough to stoke the fires but not enough to be a problem. Leaning your elbows on your desk, you close your eyes for a second, taking another deep breath. 

Noah: Does that feel good? 

Yeah, you text back quickly with shaking hands.  

You can imagine his face right now: smug smirk tugging the corners of his mouth up gently, warm brown eyes shimmering  with mischief. You let out a tiny moan when the vibration goes up a notch, and your breath catches in your throat. 

“Hey, you okay?” 

Your eyes pop open at the voice. Your head snaps up, startled, and you see your colleague staring at you over the cubicle divider, concern in her eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, just feeling a little woozy, is all,” you reply quickly, putting a hand to your face. “I think I went too hard in the gym this morn–iiiing.” Your voice hikes up when the rhythm of the vibrator changes from a steady buzz to a rising and falling pulse that sets an immediate rocket of pleasure through you. You gather yourself quickly, reaching for your water bottle. “I’m probably dehydrated.”

Your colleague stares at you for a second longer, then grins. “You're trying to impress that housemate of yours, aren’t you?” She points at you, then taps her nose. “Get all fit and stuff. Go girl, about time you got a little somethin’ somethin’. You work too hard.” 

She disappears again, and as the pulsing vibe rises to another level you let out the deep, shaky breath that you were holding, putting your head in your hands. 

If only she knew. 

I am going to fucking end your life, you quickly type out but then delete. You know provoking him, letting him know he’s getting to you, will only make it worse. So you pull out the first report in the pile on your desk and will down the arousal that is pooling low in your gut, trying to ignore the way the pressure of the vibe sits at exactly the right place inside you, nudging against your g-spot when you even so much as shift to reach for something. 

The egg switches off suddenly and you breathe a sigh of relief, even though the tension in your body starts to rise immediately. When will it go back on? How hard? For how long? Can you withstand it? 

You almost have your breathing back under control, managing a few pages of notes, before it kicks on again, a quiet, low hum that is barely enough to touch the edges of your pleasure, but enough to keep you focused on the fact that you have absolutely no control of this.

Noah: remember, don’t cum, princess. Only nasty, disobedient girls cum when they’re told not to. 

You rock your hips back and forward, almost without conscious thought. God, it feels fucking amazing. Intense. Forbidden and dirty. You close your eyes, biting your lip, enjoying for just a few moments the faint bloom of intense pleasure that spreads out like honey in your lower limbs. 

You grasp at the edge of the desk when the vibration becomes stronger suddenly, and the pulsing rhythm rises and falls inside you. You’re dangerously close now.

Please. Stop, you send to him.

Noah: No. You can take it. 

The pulsing vibration goes on and on. It doesn’t let up. Noah doesn’t let up. You bite down on your knuckles when the rhythm pulses up high and then drops low, only to rise again a few seconds later. You’re so close now. One touch is all it would take to have you falling apart. But then the vibe stops altogether and you suck in a deep breath, getting to your feet. 

You make a beeline to the restroom while you have the chance. 

There’s a seat in the spacious unisex room. Your boss doesn’t fuck with shitty linoleum and bland porcelain; your heels clack over the tiles as you quickly lock the door and hurry to the basin, leaning over to splash cold water over your face from the gentle stream that ghosts from the tap. Your ass has barely hit the fabric of the boudoir seat before the egg inside you rumbles to life again and immediately rises to an unbearable level.

It’s right at that moment that you realize you’ve left your phone at your desk. 

The vibe rises higher and higher, along with your guilt, but you’re too far gone now to care, so close to cumming that you can’t help the gasping moan that escapes as you let your hand slide slowly along your inner thigh, the need to touch yourself almost unbearable. 

If you’re going to break the rules, you figure you might as well do it properly. 

Squeezing your eyes closed, you conjure the image of him lying above you from the other night, the feeling of his cock, hard and leaking at the tip, sliding through the mess he’s made of you. You gasp, imagining what it would feel like splitting you open, the taste of him on your tongue, mingling with your own juices that linger on his skin. 

“Fuck…” 

The egg surges and dips, climbing higher and higher, dropping away seconds before you fall over the precipice each time, a maddening series of edges that have you clenching your jaw and cursing him over and over. You sob aloud when it happens for the fifth time. It’s too much. You need to cum. You slip your fingers inside your panties, sliding through the soaking wet mess of your folds to find your own clit. 

This time when the vibration drops away you keep going, finding a perfect pressure and rhythm that immediately tips you over into orgasm and you cum with a strangled cry, only just managing to bite off the sound before it bursts forth from your throat. 

Your body seizes and shudders, riding wave after wave of pleasure. You can feel your juices slipping down to soak the chair and you’d feel revolted, except you reach into your memory for the groan Noah made when he came all over your ass the night before, and the image is dirtier than anything else reality could conjure right now.  

The vibe goes up and down until it settles back into a gentle background rumble, before turning off altogether. You pray the battery has gone flat, but you know you could only be so lucky.

It takes you a long time to compose yourself. Forcing air into your lungs on wobbly legs, you make your way to the basin to stare at your reflection in the mirror. 

Your make-up is a mess, your face shiny with perspiration. There’s a single line of mascara down one cheek and you’re glad you grabbed your handbag because you look like you’ve been fucked six ways from Saturday, and you feel it, too. 

Fixing your make-up takes time and you’re glad for the time alone to compose yourself. By the time you return to your cubicle, you feel calmer, more determined to see out this ridiculous game of his, but the residual guilt that you’ve broken the rules lurks in the shadows of your mind now, just out of view, and it stings. 

He’s right. You’re a sore loser and you fucking know it.

Your phone rings as you sit down and open your laptop again. As you answer you see there are seven missed calls on the screen, all from the same number. Noah’s number. 

“Where were you?” No greeting, just the prickle of annoyance. 

“On another call.” You answer his attitude with your own. 

“While I was doing that to you? And you kept your cool? Without verbally abusing me?” He whistles through his teeth. “I’m impressed.” 

You scowl, making a disgruntled noise. “I’m capable of many things you’re unaware of,” you retort. “Goodbye Noah.” 

You hang up, sending the phone across your desk with a clatter. 

He leaves you alone for a while after that, the only sign of the egg's presence inside you; a brief blip of vibration as you walk through the door into your first site inspection. You contemplate sending him a threatening message but decide that giving him the satisfaction of a biting retort isn’t worth your effort.

But the second the time flicks three o’clock you feel the sudden, strong pulsing sensation return with a vengeance, and you curse his name to the sun.

You grit your teeth, standing up suddenly as you ponder running for the restrooms again. Right as you’re about to grab your phone and make a run for it, it rings. You jerk in surprise, letting out a small noise. 

Noah.

Your ass hits the seat at the same time as you answer, just as the egg in your cunt begins to vibe harder, hitting a whole new level of sensation. All you can do is breathe down the line at him. 

“That bad, huh?” 

You make a noise, something between indignance and desperate helplessness. He laughs, low and quiet and mocking. 

“My sweet girl is struggling,” he observes. You breathe a sigh of relief when the vibration lowers in intensity, dropping out to a dull, barely-there fizzing deep inside of you. 

“I am going to–” you hiss out, only to be cut off by an explosion of sensation against your g-spot that steals your breath and has you gripping the desk, white-knuckled and shaking. 

“You’re going to what?” Noah’s voice is low and menacing. “You don’t sound very capable of anything right now.” 

He’s right. You’re probably incapable of remembering your own name right now, let alone enacting any revenge-based violence on his person, verbal or otherwise. 

“Tell you what, I will let you bend the rules a little,” Noah continues, nonchalantly. “Is there somewhere…private where we can…talk?” 

The vibe dies down to nothing, stilling inside you, and you suck in a deep breath. “Conference room,” you manage to hiss at him. It’s in the corner of the building, next to the board room. Almost completely soundproof. You glance at the office booking board; mercifully, it’s free for the rest of the day. Most of the office is out already, gone home for the day like you should be thinking about doing. 

“Can you go there?” 

“Yes.” Picking up your meeting notes folder, you get to your feet and make your way toward it, trying to walk calmly on shaky legs. 

“Good, let me know when you are there.” 

You don’t even have to say a word. The second the door clicks closed behind you the vibe bursts to life inside your cunt, and you have to brace yourself against the door. 

“Noah, I fucking–”

“Shut up,” he snaps. “I’m going to let you cum, okay? Just this once.”

Keening under your breath, you sit down behind the desk, setting your phone down in the hands-free cradle in front of you. 

“You always sound so pretty when you’re desperate,” he murmurs, “when you’re on the edge and you’re begging for it. Will you beg now?” 

Your forehead hits your arms as you slump forward, riding the wave of pleasure that the vibe’s sudden undulating pattern brings. This one is new, and it’s glorious. 

“Noah, please,” you sob, barely more than a whisper. 

“Please what? Pretty girl, you can do better than that.” 

There’s rustling down the phone line, then a slight moan catches your ear and you know exactly what’s going on. He’s jerking himself off now, getting off on torturing you like this, and God, if it doesn’t go a long way to pushing you over the edge. 

“Please, Noah, baby, let me cum,” you breathe. 

“God, I wish I could watch you like this, I bet you’re almost crying aren’t you?” 

A sob rises in your chest and you nod, even though you know he can’t see it. “Yeah…feels too much.” 

Noah groans, letting out a string of curses. “Baby girl, what I wouldn’t give to fuck your mouth while you’re like this, feel your moans around my cock, see your pretty face all messy, mascara running…fuck you’re so beautiful like that…” 

“I need you,” you choke out, “Noah I need you here, I need you to touch me…” 

“Oh, baby girl, I’m here,” he coos at you, and there’s a hint of possessiveness in his tone that sends a shiver up your spine. “I’m here with you.” 

“But you’re not and–” 

“What is it you need?” he asks quietly, soft and gentle now. “Do you need more? I can give you more…” 

You yelp when the egg’s vibration rises once again, and your hips cant forward, pressing the silicone orb right into the soft, spongy part of your inner walls that sends you off into space every single time. 

“...or do you need me to talk you through it?” 

“Talk to me,” you whisper, “tell me everything.” 

“Everything?” He groans down the line. “Fuck, girl, I’d give you everything…this cock is so hard right now just thinking about you, about how you taste, the way you fucking feel when you fall apart, just for me…God, baby girl, are you close?” 

“Yeah, I’m so close,” you breathe, hiccupping as you try to take a breath around your words. 

“I’m so close, too, baby girl,” he hisses down the line to you, “Will you touch yourself for me, pretend that’s my cock inside you? Go on…” 

You can barely move, so overstimulated and needy, but you manage to wriggle your skirt up your thighs again, slipping your hand inside your soaked panties once again. You let out a quiet moan when your fingers slide over your clit. 

“That’s my girl,” Noah murmurs, “that’s it, close your eyes and fuck yourself on your fingers, imagine it’s me there, you’re my pretty girl, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah…” Your voice fades out as you slide two fingers into your cunt, prodding at the egg. 

“Say it,” he demands, and you can hear how wrecked he sounds, seconds from his own end.

“I’m yours,” you breathe, and it’s enough. As your mind whites out, you hear the groan on the other end of the line as Noah falls apart in time with you. 

The sun is setting when you get home, bathing the building hall in an orange glow as you walk down the corridor toward your apartment. It’s a corner apartment and you often stop to stare out the window at the end of the corridor; it looks out over the ocean in the distance. Someone’s put a potted palm beneath it and the small plant grows quickly, strong and happy in the sunny spot. You run your hands over the fronds. It’s a thing you do often, a ritual, almost as if to say, ‘I’m alive, too, little guy’; you have few other chances to ‘touch grass’ as the kids say. You feel exhausted, bone-weary, and you find yourself drifting off in your thoughts: what to have for dinner, maybe try that new Thai place a block over, that party you’ve been invited to on the weekend…

“Hey.” 

Noah’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. You turn abruptly. He stands in the doorway to your shared space, arms crossed as he leans against the doorframe. 

“Hey.”

The way he stares at you makes your skin prickle, and hairs rise on your neck; like he wants to devour you alive, one piece of you at a time. 

“Gonna stand out there all night?” 

“Hm, thinking about it,” you reply absently, running your hands over the palm again. “I think we should get a plant…” 

Noah huffs a laugh, pushing the door open and standing to the side so you can walk past him into the apartment. You’re stopped abruptly in your tracks when Noah grabs you by the arm as you walk by, and your stomach lurches as you stop dead, raising your gaze slowly to meet his. 

“Let me take your bag,” he murmurs. Slowly, you let him take the satchel bag from where it rests on your shoulder, your cardigan, too, slung over your forearm. Then, with one last glance at you, he heads off toward the kitchen and you follow, suddenly on full alert. 

“I was thinking we get takeout,” he calls back to you, “that new Thai place.” 

“Sounds good,” you reply. You watch as he stops at the counter, leaning on his elbows as he flips through a magazine in front of him. “I’m…I’m going to take a shower.” 

“Do you still have it inside you?” 

Pausing, you nod when he looks up at you pointedly; he pushes off the  counter, coming to stand in front of you. 

“You played the game well today,” he says softly, voice full of affection as he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, “but I have one question… did you cum, other than that one time we broke the rules together?” 

Your mind goes immediately back to the bathroom, and you feel the flush of heat rise to your cheeks before you can stop it or turn away. You turn your head, trying to avoid his gaze but you know immediately that he’s seen you and he knows. 

He knows. 

“You did, didn’t you?” The amusement is rife in his voice. “You did, you dirty little whore.” 

“You know damn well I couldn’t help it,” you snap, irritated at his insinuation of weakness. “You know what you were doing to me.” 

Noah leans in, lets his nose nudge into your hair. “You’ve redone your make-up, I can tell,” he whispers. “I can smell your cleanser and moisturizer.”

“I looked like a fucking disaster,” you hiss, thoroughly sick of his shit. You turn to leave but he grabs you by the wrist. 

“No, you stay,” he says firmly. “You broke the rules. Time for your punishment.” 

You stare at him deadpan. “Fuck off, Noah. I’m not kidding. It’s been a long day and—”

You squeak as your body hits his, his sharp tug of your arm pulling you in close. 

“Are you telling me you don’t want to play anymore?” he whispers, his hands sliding around your waist. You can feel the hardness in his jeans rut against your hip and it makes your mouth dry. “Are you backing out of the agreement we have? Is that what you’re saying? You can’t mean that, we’re having so much fun…” 

God, he’s so warm; you can feel him radiating through your blouse, and he smells like sex and the remnants of cologne that tightens in your chest as it brings back memories of his hands on you in real time. You close your eyes, your mouth falling open a little as you gasp, the ghost of his lips along your jaw has you clenching your thighs together in anticipation. 

“No, I’m not backing out,” you murmur, “I’m not scared of your stupid game.” 

His chuckle is borderline evil. He lets you go with one last pointed look, turning his back to you as he goes to sit down on the sofa. 

“Undress.” 

You pause, glaring at him, but then you realize there’s no way out of this. You did break the rules, deliberately and with abandon. Huffing a bratty sigh, you begin to undo the buttons of your blouse. 

“That’ll be an extra one, for being a brat,” Noah pipes up. 

“An extra what?” you snarl, undoing the zipper of your skirt and pushing it down your thighs. 

“An extra strike—no, leave those on.” 

You pause, about to undo the ankle strap on one of your heels. “Strike?” Lowering your foot to the ground again, you swallow hard. Noah grins, nodding. 

“Come.” He pats his knee. “Lie down.”

It suddenly dawns on you what this is. You kneel carefully next to him in just your bra and thong and heels, placing yourself face down in his lap. He sighs deeply as soon as you come to a stop, his hands immediately running the length of your body. You shiver; his touch is warm and comforting, and it immediately quells some of the tension in your body. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Noah murmurs, gliding a hand down over your bare ass, fingers slipping down between your thighs; you push your legs open a little for him and he makes a pleased sound. “I wish I’d been there today, to help you.” 

You arch your back as his fingers dip to circle your neck, his palm warm against your throat. His fingers tighten a little over your pulse and it makes your eyelids flutter closed. You wish he’d been there, too.

“I’m going to take the vibrator out first, okay?” 

“Okay,” you reply quietly, letting your head drop to the cushions when he lets go. You push your thighs apart more, raising your ass into the air a little. There’s a pressure inside your body as you feel him tug on the silicone tail of the egg, then a gentle release as it slips out from inside you. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, breathing out a sigh. 

“You’re welcome,” Noah murmurs in reply. “How many strikes do you think you deserve? For breaking the rules? Remember, this isn’t the first time, you’re making quite the habit of being disobedient.” 

His fingertips drum on the fleshy mound of your ass cheek, and it makes you jump. 

“I don’t know…six, maybe?” 

Noah makes a non-committal noise. “Six is a good number,” he replies. “But you get an extra for being a brat just now, so that’s seven. Are you ready?” 

You nod, but his fingers tap insistently against your skin. “Words,” he demands gently, “I need you to say it.” 

“Yes, I’m ready,” you tell him, but you’re not, you’re really not, because a second later when his palm falls sharply on your left ass cheek, you squeal, skin immediately burning with pain. 

“One,” he says sharply. 

His hand strikes your right ass cheek hard, and the pain blooms once more, bringing tears to your eyes. 

“Two…” 

You squirm, squeaking a pained sound as strikes three and four fall in quick succession. Through the thudding of your blood in your ears, you can hear Noah’s soothing words, feel his hand gentle over your inflamed skin. 

“Two more, my sweet girl,” he whispers, “can you take it?” 

“Y—yes,” you grit out through clenched teeth. 

“Are you okay?” 

His hand runs over the back of your head, smoothing across your hair. You lift your face off the cushions, almost purring in response to his soft contact. 

“Yes, I’m green,” you whisper, nodding. 

“You’re so good for me…” His hand runs up your back, pressing down a little between your shoulder blades. The movement sends you off balance a little, and your ass rises. You brace your knees beneath yourself just in time, right as Noah brings his hand down on your burning skin once more. 

“Five…” 

You yelp, squirming, but he holds you firm, dropping the last two strikes hard and fast on your left cheek. 

“Six and seven. And you’re done, my sweet girl…” Noah curls an arm under your chest, lifting you up to cradle you in his lap. You let out a sob, curling your arms around his neck. 

“Thank you,” you whisper into his skin, and you’re not sure why, what you’re even doing thanking him, but there’s a pleasant buzz in your brain that dulls out everything else as he stands up with you in his arms, carrying you into your bathroom. 

He flicks on the shower and sets you down gently on a towel on the edge of the bath. You watch in silence as he undoes your shoes and slips them from your feet, peeling the thigh highs from your legs and the thong down over your hips. The gentle buzz in your body dulls everything so it feels like you’re in a dream state. For the first time in days, your brain is deliciously numb. 

“Turn,” he mutters; he carefully unclasps your bra and slides it down your arms before he gently maneuvers you into the shower, following soon after. 

You cling to him silently as he guides you into the stream of water, soaping over every inch of your skin. Your chest thumps when he lifts your chin, using the little round pad to remove all your make-up carefully. You watch him with hooded eyes, half-asleep already.

It’s electric when his eyes meet yours. It makes your stomach clench and liquid fire rage through your veins. His eyes drop to your mouth when you lick your lips, and you see his pupils grow wide instinctively. You know he feels this, too. You lean into him, willing his lips into yours with everything you have. 

Nothing. 

“Such a good girl,” he whispers into your hair instead, enveloping you in his arms, and if you weren’t half-gone, you’d stop and ask why but the feeling of his skin against yours dulls away any protest. Leaning into him, you wrap your arms around his chest and close your eyes. 

When the water starts to run cold you let Noah flick off the taps and wrap you in a towel, moving you out of the shower and into your bedroom. He lays you down on the covers, running a hand over your back. 

“Is your butt still sore?” he asks quietly, and you nod. 

“Not too bad but you got me good a couple times,” you reply, grinning lazily. He leans in to bump his head against yours. 

“I got something for that,” he murmurs, standing up. “Lemme get it.” 

He disappears, returning a few moments later with a small bottle. Peeling back the towel, he runs a hand over your red, angry skin, and a few seconds later you feel the coolness of lotion across your rear as he smooths it on. 

“That should help.” He covers you up again, helping you under the sheets before he goes to leave. “I’ll get some dinner,” he says, leaning on the doorframe. “You want the usual?”

You nod, already dozing. Your eyes start to cross and fade closed, but you don’t miss the way he just watches you, something quietly unreadable in his gaze that sets your chest warmly simmering as you fall asleep.

It’s late when dinner arrives. You wake, alone in bed, when the buzzer goes off for the door and you lie there, listening to Noah converse with the delivery man via the intercom. You hear him slip out and disappear down the hall, his heavy footfalls so familiar to you now. He returns soon after, the rustling of paper takeout bags telling you he’s returned with food. Your stomach rumbles. 

Throwing on your robe, you rise from bed, padding wearily out into the lounge. 

“Hey sleepyhead,” he greets you. “Grub’s up.” 

“I’m starving,” you grumble, throwing yourself down next to him on the sofa, crossing a leg beneath you before you accept the plate of food Noah hands you.

You eat in silence, only half watching the movie playing on the screen. Noah’s hand rests on your thigh, his fingertips rubbing circles on the inside of your knee when he’s not shoveling food into his face.

It’s so instinctive, so…boyfriend. The longer it goes on the more you notice it, and the more it gets under your skin until you can’t stand it anymore. 

“Why won’t you kiss me?” 

He looks up at you, mid-chew, and you raise your eyebrows at him expectantly. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me,” you retort, letting some of your frustration come to the surface. “Why won’t you kiss me? We do everything else, why not that?”

“I—” Noah puts his plate down, swallowing his mouthful. 

“Why won’t you fuck me?” You try another of the five million questions that circulate in your mind. “Why haven’t we fucked? You said you wanted access to my body, whenever, wherever, and I thought that meant—” 

“I haven’t done those things because they aren’t part of the game yet.” 

You stare at him incredulously. “What?” 

“Am I speaking Urdu? Because I thought I was speaking English—” 

“Oh, fuck you, man,” you spit, pushing his hand away from your leg, getting to your feet.  

“Babe,” Noah protests, but you flip him your middle finger and make a face. 

“No, you don’t get to call me that,” you yell at him, and he goes quiet immediately. “Not anymore. Go fuck yourself, Noah, if you can be bothered.”

Retreating to your bedroom, you fling yourself onto your bed, screaming tears into your pillow in frustration until you fall asleep.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter Six coming soon.

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #fic recs

[blahehblah]

OH MAN THIS WAS THE BEST WAY TO WAKE UP

Fic: The Devil's Prayer Book - Part Four || Bad Omens

Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: “If you must play, decide upon three things at the start: the rules of the game, the stake, and the quitting time.” He's a part time housemate but after losing a game of poker you find yourself completely at his mercy for one whole week. Sounds simple? Not quite. It never is.

CW: Language, negotiation of sexual relationships, free use sex arrangement and inexperienced Dom/sub relationship. Dirty talk, dry humping, fingering, masturbation and cum kink. Mix signals because that's what happens when communication isn't what it should be. Just sayin' s'all. Content warnings will be on a chapter by chapter basis.

A.N.: title from a proverb "a stack of cards is the devil's prayer book". I am forever indebted to to @ladyveronikawrites and @the-way-of-words and @celticthroughandthrough for their assistance, expertise, editing and beta-ing help, cheerleading and handholding.

Tag Team: @kingdomof-omens @cncohshit @hopelessromantic17 @throwingmetothelions @the-way-of-words @strawberryruffilo @ladyveronikawrites @badnoahmens @bluegarrett @itsvictoriaarose @thebadchic @chels3a-smile @theoneandonlykymberlee @bluechalcedony @mixxymess @thesazzb @thatswhatgaysaid  @collapsedglasshouses @thescarlettvvitch

Please DM me or comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list

Find Part One here Part Two here Part Three here

The storm hits while he’s in the shower. The sky explodes, furious and wild, and you relate to it: your insides are in turmoil. The building shakes with every gust of wind and every booming roll of thunder. You can barely hear yourself think, so you sneak on tiptoes to your room; you’re not sure why you creep, he clearly doesn’t want you there any further that evening. 

Sighing, you turn the water to cool and step into your own shower, washing away the smell of him, and the feel of his hands and mouth from your skin. Then, weary and frustrated, you fall into bed. 

The world is quiet when you wake. Squinting, rising up onto your hands, you glance at the alarm clock on your desk. 

“Oh fuck!”

The bed sheet tangles around your feet as you scramble from bed and you almost fall on your face, catching yourself on the desk chair. You’re late. So very, very late. 

Staggering into the bathroom, you scrub your face and throw on some make-up, dragging a brush through your hair before pulling it up into a tight ponytail. Your business shirt hangs on the back of your chair and you throw it on over the tank you woke up in before flicking open your laptop and dialing into your calendar and emails. 

Your ass hits your chair at the same time as you notice your schedule for the morning is curiously empty. Frowning, you flick back and forward in your emails, wondering if you’ve missed something, if somehow by some huge coincidence the three conference calls and two Zoom meetings scheduled had all been canceled. But there’s nothing. 

Suddenly your phone buzzes and you pick it up.

Noah: Morning. I hope you’re awake by now, only princesses sleep til noon in San Diego. 

It was sent an hour and a half ago. The next one has a timestamp of 8:45 am, only thirty-five minutes ago.

Noah: Your silence tells me you’re not awake. I’ve taken the liberty of calling your boss and telling her you’re sleeping off a mild bout of food poisoning. She says stay hydrated and not to forget the meeting this afternoon at 2pm, it’s important.

Your skin prickles with annoyance. 

Why the fuck would you do that? you shoot back.

Noah: Excuse me?

I’m perfectly capable of owning my own fuck-ups. Sleeping through my alarm is my fuck-up. I don’t need you looking out for me.

Noah: You didn’t sleep through your alarm, I turned it off for you before I left this morning. You were out like a light, looked like you needed the rest. 

You have to pause and count backwards from ten, inwardly seething with anger now. You’re about to shoot him off a message when your phone starts to vibrate an incoming call. 

Noah. 

You ignore it. 

The second time he calls you, ignore that too, and the third. 

Noah: Answer your phone. 

Rolling your eyes, you turn your phone to airplane mode and get up, throwing on a pair of sweats before making your way out into the kitchen in search of coffee. 

You don’t hear from him for the rest of the day. Your two o’clock meeting goes well and the client emails you the signed documents within the hour, sealing the deal. The sight fills you with a warm glow of satisfaction and your boss calls to congratulate you soon after, telling you to take the rest of the day. 

Taking advantage of the day off, you catch up on some television, motoring through a season of your favorite show. At some point you doze off in the warm sunbeams that the late afternoon sends through the big windows, waking a few hours later to a darkened room and a screen asking you if you’d like to continue watching. Grimacing, you haul yourself up.

A session in the gym soothes your busy mind. The look on his face as he got out of bed and yanked the towel down has stalked your thoughts all day; by the time you smash out five miles on the treadmill, you have nothing to show for your over-analysis except a headache and a creeping, caustic sense that you’ve missed something important. It leaves a sour taste in your mouth as you turn over every moment of the last few days, searching for the missing piece of the puzzle, but you’re no closer to a solution when you open the door to your apartment and slip inside an hour later. 

The apartment is still dark and quiet and empty of life. It’s late, past midnight, and you try not to think about where he might be. Sighing, you pull out a microwave meal and set the machine going before hitting the showers. Wrapping your robe around you, twisting your hair up into a towel atop your head, you take the microwave meal and the mail you’d picked up earlier, heading back to your place in front of the television. 

“Your phone dead or something?” 

You let out a screech as you leap backward in surprise. The mail goes everywhere, and you only just manage to hold onto the plastic bowl that contains your food. 

“Fucking fuck! You motherfucking– what the fuck, bro!” 

Turning your back to him you drop the bowl onto the table before you slump against the wall, leaning your head on your arm as you clutch at your chest. Behind the pounding in your head and the thundering of your heart in your ribcage, you can hear him laughing quietly, and your anger grows. When you turn to face him, a sharp reprimand forming on your tongue, you see he’s slumped on the sofa in that way he always does, right where you’d been sitting and had intended to return to. 

The anger turns to rage and something inside you snaps. 

“Know what, Sebastian?” You push off the wall and start to pick up the mail from the floor. “Fuck your stupid game, and your stupid bet. Fuck your fucking bullshit damage and fuck you. We’re done.” 

“No we’re not,” he scoffs, sitting up. 

You let out a hoot of half-hysterical laughter. “Yes, we really are,” you snap. 

“Why? Because I gave you a little jumpscare? Made you drop your stuff?” He leans back again, rolling his eyes. “Be real. That’s like our love language, Edgelord.” 

You straighten, stare at him in silence for a good few seconds before putting a hand to your forehead and taking a deep breath and closing your eyes. 

“I’m going to bed,” you announce, tossing the mail on the table. “Don’t fucking even think about coming and demanding any part of me because I’m calling a time out. We’re going to talk about this tomorrow.”  

You turn on your heel but haven’t even taken a single step when you hear Noah say your name. His tone is serious, low and there’s a slight hint of remorse that gives you reason to pause, but you don’t turn around. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says quietly. “Will you come here please?” 

You take another deep breath. Your heart has calmed from its frantic drumming in your chest, your body freeing itself of the adrenaline that makes your hands shake and your breath come in shallow fits. Noah says your name again and this time you turn around. 

He holds out his hand and lifts his chin, narrowing his eyes a little. 

“I don’t want to,” you pout. “I said I called a timeout.” 

“I know,” he replies, “and I said I’m sorry for being an ass. Will you please come here to me.” 

It’s an order now, not a request. As you stare at him defiantly, you feel the glow that ignites in your belly as he tilts his head and just looks at you. 

“I got a movie cued up,” he says, finally breaking eye contact with you. He fluffs up the pillow at the end of the sofa. “Come and watch with me. I’ve had a shitty day and I need some huggin’ from my favorite housemate.” 

He stretches out, his long legs hanging over the arm and off the edge. He looks ridiculous. Patting the cushion in front of his chest, he sticks out his lower lip. You roll your eyes, letting out another deep sigh, this one more performative than anything. 

“I’m your only housemate, fuckface,” you snap, pulling the blanket off the back of the sofa before you lie down in front of him. His arm snakes around your waist immediately, pulling you closer. “No one else could deal with living with your sorry ass.” 

“That’s a lie and you know it. You know I’m very selective about the people I cohabitate with and an absolute joy to be around.” 

You snort in amusement as you watch the screen come to life. “Howl’s Moving Castle? Really? What are we, twelve?” 

“It’s my comfort movie okay, shut the fuck up,” he snaps back, and you don’t miss the way his lips press to the back of your head. You roll your eyes and make a derisive noise but leave it be anyway as you settle in to watch the movie. You love Howl, not that you’d ever let him know now. 

“I am sorry though,” he murmurs suddenly into your hair. His breath is warm and it sends a shiver down your spine. “I should have just woken you up this morning, like normal. I’m an idiot. My brain doesn't work quite right sometimes.” 

His hand rests on your stomach and you find it among the fluffy folds of your bathrobe, threading your fingers through his. You say nothing, just squeeze tight for a few seconds, and you can feel the way his mouth curves upward against the back of your head. 

You’re not sure at what point you realize his fingers have found the gap in your robe, but all of a sudden you feel his skin against yours and you freeze, all your attention now laser focused on the way his fingertips draw small circles over your belly. 

"Noah?"

"Yeah?" 

His hand moves further beneath your robe, coming up to cup your breast. He gives a little squeeze, his thumb rubbing over your nipple. 

"I thought we were…watching a…movie." 

His face is buried in your hair now, his nose against the back of your neck, and you can feel the way his breath comes fast, ragged and shallow. A bit like yours does now, too.

"You smell so good," he mutters, "And you're naked under this robe, aren't you?" 

“I wasn’t planning oooonnnn…” Your voice gives out as Noah rolls your nipple between thumb and forefinger, and your eyelids flutter closed, eyes rolling back into your head. “I wasn’t planning on spending the evening cuddling.” 

Noah hums an amused noise, trailing his hand down the center of your belly; the lower his hand gets the more it pushes your robe open, until the sash falls away.

“That’s better,” he murmurs, hand making a beeline for the apex of your thighs. 

“Oh fuck…” you groan as he pulls you back into his embrace, lifting your leg up at the knee. You’re no match for his long limbs as he puts you where he wants you then slips deft fingers down between your folds. 

“You’re already wet for me,” he whispers, “dirty girl, were you playing with yourself, waiting for me to get home?” 

You manage a snort of amusement as he finds your clit and starts to use two fingertips, circling light and slow, exactly how you like it. You can feel the smile on his face grow against the skin of your neck. 

“Brat,” he mutters, and you squeal as he bares his teeth and bites down. Your whole body shudders and you can’t help the way your ass cants back into his crotch, the hot, hard outline of his cock fitting perfectly in the cleft of your ass cheeks. 

“Stop that,” he scolds, but it’s half-hearted, the strain evident in his voice as his fingers pause and he sucks in a deep breath. 

You do it again. 

“That’s it.” 

He moves so quickly out from behind you that he almost shoves you off the sofa. But the next second you find yourself straddling his thigh, his hands pushing your robe down off your shoulders until you’re completely bare. 

“You wanna get off, you get off like this, where you can’t touch me,” he snaps, and he takes hold of your hips, pushing you back before he pulls your body forward. The movement grinds your clit against his thigh and the rough fabric of his sweats, and you pitch forward, catching yourself on the back of the sofa just in time. 

“Go on,” he urges you quietly, palms coming up to rest over your tits. He pinches both your nipples harshly, making you gasp. “Move. Make yourself cum.” 

The sharp impact of his palm on your ass cheek makes you squeak and jump, breaking you out of the shock of how you’ve suddenly ended up here. Your hips roll forward and then back, and it feels good, so good, and you can feel the wetness that coats your folds start to soak his sweats. 

“God, you little slut, you are so wet for this.” Noah smirks, fingers kneading into the flesh of your waist as he urges you faster. You whimper when his thigh muscle bunches and jumps, the sudden hardness creating a friction that hits you in exactly the right spot. 

“Fuck, oh fuck,” you moan, eyes falling closed. 

“That’s my girl, you gonna cum for me? You think you deserve this?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” You hate the way you sound, so desperate and needy, but the movement of your hips speeds up and starts to falter as you feel the arousal start to explode through your veins. 

“Well I don’t.” 

You cry out in panic as Noah tosses you sideways like a ragdoll. Arms flailing, you find yourself on your back, and all rational thought flees your mind because Noah plants his elbows into your thighs, shoving them wide open, and buries his face between them. 

The noise that leaves you is obscene. You almost slam your hands into the back of his skull but at the last second you remember the rules and instead grasp for the arm of the sofa behind your head, letting out a loud moan as he traces the tip of his nose over your folds. 

“Good girl, I knew you were trainable,” he murmurs, meeting your gaze above the soft rise of your belly. His eyes sparkle and they stay locked on you as he dips a finger into you. Your back arches so hard off the sofa you’re pretty sure you pull something. Long, slow thrusts of his fingers into your pussy have your thighs quivering in seconds as you rock your hips up to grind against his hand, and you’re pretty sure you’ve never been this close this quick. 

“I broke the rules yesterday,” he mutters, “I put my mouth on you and I shouldn’t have. But I can’t fucking get enough of you like this.” The way the words vibrate off the skin of your inner thigh makes you shiver and moan again. “So pretty laid out for me. But it won’t happen again.”

As he drags the tip of one digit up to circle over your clit again, you feel rather than hear his own moans of pleasure, and it only takes a split second glance for you to see how Noah grinds himself into the sofa cushions as he fucks you with his fingers. 

“Noah, baby please,” you whimper, “I need you inside me, please.” 

He’s up over you so fast you almost scream when you open your eyes to find him staring down at you. 

“Say that again,” he demands, lowering his face toward yours. Your heart thunders and you twist your fingers into the sofa cushions in an effort to keep from threading your hands through his hair. His bangs tickle your face and it makes you shiver, your eyes falling closed as he makes a slow roll of his hips into yours. 

“Fuck, Noah, baby, please fuck me, I need you inside me, please.” 

His nose nudges yours. You can almost taste him, his breath hot against your lips. His cock presses against your naked pussy, coating the front of his sweats with your juices, and his mouth falls open with a deep groan. 

“This? This is what you want?” He rolls his hips into yours again, once, twice, three times. 

“Yeah…that’s what I want,” you breathe, barely audible now, so close it almost hurts. You cant your hips up as he bears down on you, and the way his moan mingles with yours, hot on your tongue as you breathe him in, sends you spiraling. But still he keeps himself propped up above you, never close enough to kiss you but enough to send you mad with the need to do so.

“I’m– I’m gonna…please don’t stop,” you gasp, hips moving frantically now, and as your orgasm breaks like a wave over you, you can’t help the deep, loud groan that escapes you as your body bucks under his, quivering in pleasure. 

You don’t even feel him move. You’re too caught up in your own pleasure. But you sure as shit feel him lift you at the waist and flip you over, dragging you onto your knees so your bare ass is in the air presented to him. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck…” he groans out above you, long and drawn out, guttural.

It takes a few seconds for you to realize what’s happened. As you come down from your high, your breathing returning to normal, a breeze floats over you from the ceiling fan above and the hot ropes of cum Noah’s left over your ass start to cool. His hand on your waist is a steadying presence as you shift a little, moving your face out from the suffocating heat of the sofa cushions so you can take a breath. 

“I’ll…I’ll get a towel and clean you up,” Noah says quietly, running his hand down your back. You nod in silence, letting your body stretch out on the sofa as he disappears off in the direction of his bedroom.

When he returns, he carefully sits beside you on the edge of the sofa, wiping his mess from your skin gently, first with the warm washcloth and then with the towel, drying you thoroughly. He dips gently between your legs and down your thighs, and your heart swells a little at his display of tenderness. He glances at you every so often, his forehead furrowed and his lips pursed together like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how. 

“There,” he says finally, “all clean.” 

“Thank you,” you reply softly, turning the corners of your mouth up in the shape of a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. When you sit up and draw your robe around yourself, you can’t help but clutch your arms protectively over yourself. 

“Did I…did I hurt you?” 

You shake your head, getting to your feet. Your knees are weak, your thighs tender from yet another workout of sorts today. 

“No, you didn’t,” you reply, “It’s just…” 

You can’t put your finger on what you feel. There’s no name for the jumble of emotions that course through you right now. Pleasure, satisfaction. Uneasiness. 

Noah clears his throat, looks down at his hands. “I feel like you think I crossed a line just now…” 

“No, it’s fine.” 

“Then why are you–”

“I said it’s fine!”

You both fall into an awkward silence. When he doesn’t speak again or offer any reassurance you feel the sudden flare of irritation. You throw your hands in the air with a frustrated noise and turn on your heels, heading for your bedroom. 

It’s hours before you even get close to sleep. You’re not even sure why you’re mad. This isn’t your game, you don’t make the rules. But still, the lack of intimacy bothers you. He’d never been shy about showing his affection for you, even if it was just platonic. But there’s something entirely new here, something different, a darker, colder part of Noah you’ve never seen before, and it’s got you rattled. 

Finally, you turn off your laptop and flick off the lamp, rolling over onto your side. You don’t move when almost immediately, your bedroom door creaks open and you hear footsteps across the floor to the edge of your bed. 

There’s a pause before he slips beneath the covers and curls himself against your back, his arms threading around your waist. His breath is slow, rhythmic, and his heart beating in his chest against your back syncopates with it until they lull you into a kind of half-calm. 

It feels nice to rest in his arms: he’s solid, limbs heavy over your waist, and he smells of a familiar warmth that sets your heart at ease. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, breath shifting your hair. 

Sorry for what? 

You don’t reply, pretending to be asleep, but your mind turns at a million miles an hour as you listen to him drop off into slumber, because you have no idea what the fuck is going on right now.

Thank you for reading! Part Five coming soon.

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfic #fic recs

[blahehblah]

i’m so excited to read the next chapters, the storytelling is amazing. and the vampirism? FLAWLESS

Fic: The Grey - Chapter Ten || Bad Omens

Noah x ofc

A Bad Omens rpf Fantasy AU

Summary: Go to fucking therapy, they said. It'll be good for you, they said. But good is relative, and a mutual fascination with a mysterious stranger leads Noah Sebastian and his therapist down a path of self-discovery that makes them wonder if they really wants to revisit all the shit from their collective pasts that they've both been so desperate to keep buried.

Tag Team: @kingdomof-omens @cncohshit @hopelessromantic17 @throwingmetothelions @the-way-of-words @shaydayhere @itsvictoriaarose @strawberryruffilo @ladyveronikawrites @badnoahmens @thebadchic

CW: language, gore, physical violence by and against the MCs, *SERIOUS MENTAL HEALTH DECLINE* *PHYSICAL ASSAULT BY SIGNIFICANT OTHER*. I cannot stress this enough: if spousal abuse or domestic violence is a trigger for you, please skip this chapter. DM me and I can work something else out so you can read this without the triggering sections. Nightmares and hallucinations, altered states of reality caused by sleeplessness and insomnia, gaslighting by medical professionals, flashbacks, trauma, supernatural themes.

A/N.: This is some more heavy stuff. If you're precious about your Noah please read the content warnings and decide if it's for you. Please be aware that I've used personal experience of altered states of reality in this chapter. Mental illness is not monolithic: my experiences will not be the same as someone else's. Please, if you are struggling with your mental health, reach out. We love you, your feelings are valid and you are valued.

Content warnings will be on a chapter-by-chapter basis. This is a work of fiction based on real people. It's not true, nor does it claim to be. Canon inaccuracies and assumptions are made for the purposes of plot. I'm not a psychiatrist. There will be inaccuracies.

Chapter One || Chapter Two || Chapter Three || Chapter Four || Chapter Five || Chapter Six || Chapter Seven || Chapter Eight || Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

A sold out national tour affords Noah the space he so desperately needs to dissociate from the shit show that is currently his private life. At the last minute he stuffs the St Benedict medal into his bag and takes it with him; apparently the vestiges of a childhood of superstition and ritual die hard in a desperate man. 

But as the days pass and turn into weeks he feels the odd sensory quirks begin to dissipate, the nightmares become less frequent and less vicious, and he starts to wonder if maybe the old lady’s medal is magic, or if maybe it was all just a bad dream. 

My phone rings when I am leaving work for the night. It’s late, and I’m not expecting any calls, so I barely glance at the number. I don’t recognise it. On the way home I miss two more calls from the same number, and I’m now curious as to whom it may be. They only leave one message – the last time they call – and I pick up the handset and return the call as I pull up my driveway.

“Julia, it’s Carlos Herrera.” 

Instantly, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. 

“Carlos,” greet him, ensuring my voice is level and betrays none of the tension I suddenly feel, “to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I’m sorry for calling so late but I am at my grandmother’s place and she has just told me quite the story. I thought you should hear it.” 

I turn off my car but I don’t get out. “I’m listening,” I tell him. 

“There’s been…another sighting, if you could call it that.” 

I say nothing and he continues after a pause. 

“Abuela was on her way down to do her grocery shopping this morning when she came across a man running. She said he had that look in his eye, like he’d seen the devil.” 

“I’m taking it wasn’t the devil,” I reply, only half joking. I hear Carlos chuckle. 

“No, it was not,” he says, and I can hear the mirth fade from his tone immediately. “She said he was being followed by a demon, who was hiding in the shadows. She saw it with her own eyes. He didn’t seem to know that it was there but when she stopped him he seemed to know what she was talking about, she could tell by the look on his face.” 

I can hear a woman talking in the background; I assume it is his grandmother. I wait patiently while he holds the phone away and talked to her a little more. 

“She said that he was very scared when she told him that it was there, and that she thinks it was following him because–” He pauses, says something in Spanish, and I hear his grandmother say the same thing. “– it was following him because he walks both sides of the veil now.” 

My brain clicks into another gear as another puzzle piece falls into place. I undo my seat belt and climb from the car, eager now to get inside and start looking into this new lead. 

“Carlos, I appreciate your call,” I tell him, “and please thank your abuela, she is very brave.”

“One more thing,” Carlos interrupts me, “she gave the fellow a medallion, St Benedict, to protect him. She said the shadow demon did not follow him after that, it seemed to anger and confuse it, and it went away. Just something to keep in mind for your friend, just in case you need it.” 

I nod. “Thank you, Carlos, I appreciate everything you’ve told me tonight.” 

“Good night, Julia, again I’m sorry for the lateness of this call.” 

“It’s no worry,” I reply, “goodnight, Carlos.” 

“Goodnight, mamacita.” 

Sighing, I hang up and shove my phone in my bag. It was going to be a long night.

He’s not seen or heard from Julia since the night in his room when he emailed her, and Noah isn’t sure how he’s supposed to feel about that. He still dreams of her sometimes. It feels deliberate, a gentle reminder, and his body reacts out of instinct each time, waking him to the sound of his heart thumping in his chest and his blood roaring in his ears as his fingers itch to touch. He craves her, as if there’s a small part of her that sits coiled beneath his skin like a viper, just waiting for the perfect moment to strike. But, gradually, even those dreams start to lessen and, eventually, Noah starts sleeping the nights through in blissful nothingness without disturbance. 

Their VA hometown show pops. He can’t help but feel the smug satisfaction of success and allows himself to let his hair down a little, and the afterparty is a bit of a blur. At some stage during the night Nicholas’ sister introduces him to a girl she works with and the second her beautiful brown eyes stare up into his Noah can’t think of anything else. 

Sara, her name is. She’s five foot ten inches worth of curves and beautiful dark skin, and she sucks his dick in Nick’s bedroom as Noah leans against the door to keep it closed, his fingers wound through corkscrews of black hair to keep her in place as he slides back and forth along her clever tongue.

He can taste himself in her mouth when he kisses her, and not for one second does Noah feel the sting of guilt in the back of his mind like he did four, even three weeks ago. He fucks her up against the wall and cums so hard he almost cracks a tooth jamming his jaws closed so as to stop from yelling at the top of his lungs.  

By the time they get back to LA five weeks later Noah almost feels like a new person. But then he walks into the venue for their last show.

It starts as soon as he walks in. There’s a prickling up his spine, a feeling in the back of his mind that there’s something he’s forgetting. His heart sinks. There’s an entire thirty six hour period missing from his life that he’d desperately like to get back but he curses the timing: couldn’t it wait five, maybe six hours before mowing him down like an eighteen-wheeler on the I-5? Couldn’t it give him a tiny bit more of a warning? 

Like a petulant child he feels the anger well up in his chest, sour and hot. But then as the day goes on Noah feels the familiar tide of anxiety rising inside his body, how his limbs start to feel disconnected from the rest of him, his resting heart rate rising until the constant banging of his blood in his ears deafens him. 

He knows it’s going to hurt. 

The fear and anticipation swirl like a poison together and it might be the worst part, but each time has been worse than the last, so he knows this slow burn is not a fuck around. Each time before it’s been an assault on his senses as scenes flooded through him like a movie, each memory bringing with it pain that shot through him like lightning bolts, wrenching his brain around in his head like a marble in a pinball machine. 

But this feels…different. This feels like something terrible brewing, something he can neither control or predict, and Noah knows the second it hits nothing in his life will ever be the same again. 

As he throws himself into load in and set up the feeling fades to a dull background hum. At lunchtime he throws back a couple of painkillers and it simmers down even lower. Then there’s sound check, and a bunch of meet and greets with record label execs and Noah does his best to be present and attentive but the effort of masking just how on edge he is is fucking exhausting, so by four o’clock he steals to the bus for a nap. 

His dreams are noisy, dark and barely discernible, like he’s underwater at night and looking up at the sky. He hears voices he doesn’t know, sounds he can’t make out, but there’s no pain and no screaming, and no shadowy figures reaching for him, so he takes the win. 

Noah knows enough by now that he can use the edginess he feels in his bones to fuel his performance, so the moment he takes the stage Noah grabs it by the throat: all of the frustration, all the anger and uncertainty, fear and pain from the past few months gathered together like poison, soaked up by charcoal lyrics in his gut and spewed out in song for a full ninety minutes. 

It feels awful, purging, absolutely fucking draining. Cathartic. Sweet release. 

It makes him want to curl up and die.

On the way out, someone says it's the best they've seen him perform in months and Noah can't help but laugh at the irony because he's absolutely wrecked. He refuses a second encore for the first time this tour and no one questions because, as Nicholas tells him with a concern written deep in his face as they head up the narrow backstage passage to the green room: Noah looks like death warmed up. 

It’s a short trip home after load out – to their actual, real home – and Noah dearly wants to stay up, to shoot the shit and drink beers with his friends and his housemates but he feels dead on his feet, and nothing short of sleeping in his own bed is going to at least go part of the way to fixing that. 

There’s a mirror on the wall at the top of the stairs. Noah doesn’t even look at it anymore, so used to it he is these days. But he catches a glimpse of himself out of the corner of his eye as he rounds the landing to climb the second set of stairs and it stops him mid-step. 

If it had eyes he'd probably have stared into them but it doesn't. It's just gray nothingness in the shape of a person standing behind him on the landing. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to, caught like a rabbit in headlights as he stares at it in horror frozen in place. 

His brain screams at him. The primal part of his brain that tells him he’s in danger pops off like a firework and for a second Noah hesitates, terrified that if he moves it’ll move and it’ll be faster than him and this will all be over before he can take a single step, but then something baser takes over and a single word echoes through his head: 

Move. 

So Noah moves. He moves faster than he’s ever moved in his life. He takes the steps two, three at a time, scrambling on hands and knees up the remaining stairs when he trips over his own feet and lurches forward. There’s a high-pitched noise in his head, half-screaming, half-nails running down a chalkboard, and it sends a terror up his spine that almost stops his heart. But he feels nothing: no hands around his neck or his ankles, no choking smoke or fog or the shadow that falls across his eyes when he’s about to pass out. He makes it to his bedroom door and throws himself through it, slamming it closed at the same time as he smacks the light switch, lighting up the room. 

Leaning his back to the door Noah flicks the flimsy privacy lock on the door, and suddenly his legs feel like jelly, his stomach lurching; sliding down, his ass hits the floor at the same time as the tiny ping of metal off the leg of his desk chair catches his attention. 

St Benedict. 

Eyes wide, Noah stares at it as it lies on the carpet in front of him. He wants to grab it. He wants to lean forward and close his fingers around the worn, wooden beads and pull it into his hands, but then the screaming starts again and he almost loses his mind in terror. Slamming his hands over his ears, he screams back, instinctive and with his whole chest, trying to drown it out, but it reaches higher and louder, beyond reach of his own vocal cords. The door bangs and shudders behind him and Noah closes his eyes, slumping back into it as he desperately tries to keep it closed. 

Bad idea. No-good terrible very bad idea he realizes the second they slam shut, because what erupts against the canvas of the back of his eyelids is the very definition of insanity. 

It hurts. So much. Noah sobs out loud. All he can taste is salt and sand and fear. Someone, somewhere, calls his name, but all he can see is her. He glances down at her hand in his, feels the cool, delicate texture of her skin and it’s nice, so nice, but then his feet hit the ground and sink into warm sand, and the pain starts all over again. 

Noah screams in agony and the door behind him shakes some more, and it’s like an earthquake, only it doesn’t matter how hard he prays for the earth to open up and swallow him whole he’s left dying on the sand and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. It’s torturous, a constant ache in every part of every molecule in every single cell of his body, and as he lies on the sand watching his blood spill out into his own hands he sees Julia begin to move and fight for her life. For his life.  

Noah isn’t sure if it’s because his body is shutting down now or if it’s just all part of some hallucination but everything moves in slow motion. There’s nothing he can tell himself to justify what his eyes see. She shouldn’t be able to move like that, a nagging voice in his head tells him, quickly drowned out by the choking feeling as he tries to breathe but instead just inhales his own blood, gasping and coughing and spitting up foamy crimson that bubbles on his lips. 

Once, when he was a kid, he and Nick watched a movie and afterwards they looked up if it were even possible to break another human being’s neck with your bare hands. Apparently it’s almost impossible. It’s one of those tid-bits of knowledge that Noah clings to, likes to annoy people with sometimes when watching horror movies, but as he watches Julia effortlessly twist the shadow man’s head a full one-eighty degrees and let him fall lifeless to the sand, it’s just one more thing that Noah can’t reconcile with the reality of the situation and he feels himself begin to slip. 

As his eyes close he can hear her screaming at him to get up, to get to his fucking feet and help her to help him to help them but his body refuses to cooperate. 

Pain. So much pain. 

Every time she moves him it’s like white hot pokers pressing into his stomach and his chest. He wants to cry out, he wants to tell her to stop but every time he tries he just spits up more blood until it’s all he can taste. 

He watches her fold him into her car. He's not sure how she moves him, deadweight over her beaten and bloodied body. His stomach screams at him and he hears himself finally make a sound, a groan that gurgles in his chest flooded with his own blood, and he sees the desperation on her face as she tells him to hang on, that she’s going to take care of him, but then her sweet voice is drowned out by the hellish screaming that rises to another deafening level as he watches himself pass out. 

He feels like he’s hovering in and out of his own reality. He feels her move him from the car into her house, but he stands helplessly alone as he watches her try to revive his dying body. He sees the moment she gives up. He screams at her to keep going, to keep her promise and to help him, but she ignores him, sobbing instead as she brings her forearm to her mouth. 

“What the fuck?” he whispers soundlessly, and something like panic rises in his throat as he watches her bite into her own flesh and start forth the flow of her own blood. He feels the first drop hit the back of his throat and he gags on the sour, rotten taste of it, but then something in his brain fires to life and he closes his mouth around where she bleeds for him, sucking down another mouthful, then another, then another…

Stop it. Fucking stop that!

Voiceless, helpless, Noah watches as she lets him have his fill, sees how her face drips with red tears as she tells him over and over again that she’s sorry and that she can’t lose him, that she needs him now and she won’t let him die like this. 

Stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it… It drones out in waves like subsonic noise, throbbing in his chest, and for the first time Noah feels his heart kick, firing to life. He covers his ears and shakes his head, the screaming deafening like a hurricane now, and she might have said she loved him but then he passes out and hears nothing. 

The house is quiet when Noah wakes. He sits up in bed, rubbing his face. There’s a bucket on his bedside table, and he’s naked. He glances at his alarm clock: 2:36am. His bladder twinges and he grimaces, swinging his feet over the side of the bed to go to the bathroom; he freezes, almost stepping on the body laid out on the floor beside his bed, wrapped tightly in a quilt. 

Jolly. 

Noah steps over his friend carefully, stepping quietly through the debris scattered on the floor and into his bathroom, closing the door behind him. God, his stomach fucking aches, like he’s thrown up with all the force available to him more than once. Noah wrinkles his nose; it smells like hell. He flicks on the light and sees his clothes balled up in the corner and when he pokes it with his toe he sees the chunks of half digested food; the underwear is wet and he feels the heat of shame rise up his neck, so he turns away, disgusted, quickly relieving himself before he shuts off the light and closes the door again. 

Then, carefully, quietly, he tugs on sweats and a shirt, and the first clean sweater he finds in the pile at the end of his bed. Then Noah finds his phone, car keys and his wallet, and creeps from the room, closing the door behind him. 

His mind is surprisingly silent as he pilots the SUV through the outskirts of the city, and it gives Noah time to go over what he remembers. The more he thinks about it the more it comes into stark, clear view, and the more details he can recall. There’s a moment he clings to, one with her hand in his as they sit and watch the lights of the boats out at sea but it’s a split second in time that passes so quickly he’s not sure he trusts it as a memory or simply a dream of what he wishes could be. 

By the time he pulls onto the winding boulevard that slowly makes its way up the hill, Noah has enough of a chronology of events that leaves no doubt in his mind about what happened that night on the beach. None of it scares him anymore. What’s done is done. He’s not one to dwell on the past. But by the time he pulls up at her gate, he’s got a list of questions a mile long, and at the very top is a single word: 

Why?

He parks his car in the pullover, getting out. There’s an intercom on one pillar by the letterbox, so he presses it firmly, holding it down just long enough for it to be annoying. 

No answer. 

Noah presses it again, for longer this time. He knows she’s awake. He’s seen enough horror movies, read enough creepy books to know the lore. Vampires don’t sleep. The word causes a bubble of hysterical laughter to rise up in his throat, and he lets it out, shaking his head as he presses the button once more. 

“Do you know what time it is?” 

Something small and warm clenches in his gut at the sound of her voice but he pushes it away, concentrating instead on the anger simmering there along with it. 

“I’m aware, Julia.” Noah pauses, lets his words sink in. “Let me in.” 

There’s a long pause and Noah begins to wonder if she’s just walked away and left him alone, but then the intercom crackles to life again. 

“Go home, Noah.” She sounds tired, dismissive. “This isn’t appropriate.” 

Anger flares in his chest. “Do you want to have a conversation about things that aren’t appropriate? Can we talk about how appropriate it is to go out with a patient? Or how appropriate it is to keep things from a patient, violent, horrible, traumatic things that happened to them? Things that you witnessed?” He stops, takes a breath, trying to calm his voice to a level where it doesn’t shake. “Or, maybe, maybe we can talk about how appropriate it is for you to feed me your blood. Take your pick, Julia, we can start wherever you–”

There’s a click and the pedestrian gate beside him swings open a couple of inches as it unlocks. Noah steps back, fists clenched, taking a moment to control his rage before he steps through onto the path that leads up the hill to her house. 

The front door opens just as Noah steps up onto the portico. Julia stares silently out at him, her face unreadable. 

“Noah, you shouldn’t–” 

Her tone is tired and exasperated, unbothered by his appearance. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he spits, cutting her off as he strides up the steps, carried forward purely by spite and rage. Julia blinks, then her expression goes cold, but Noah’s beyond giving a fuck now. 

“Okay you can leave,” she retorts sharply but he’s over the threshold and in her space before he can stop himself. 

His body hits hers at the same time as his hand comes to rest on her throat, the momentum of his body weight pushing her backward as he kicks the door closed with a vicious swing of his foot. Her back hits the wall and Noah presses her into it, his fingers tightening around her neck as he leans closer. 

Her gaze never wavers. Not once does she look away, and again, Noah’s teeth grind in fury, as he glares down at her. She doesn’t look scared of him. She doesn’t even blink.

“I know what you did to me,” he says finally. “I know what happened. At the beach.” 

Julia doesn’t reply but her eyes dip from his after a second, and then close all together. It’s enough of an admission for Noah and bitter triumph blooms beneath his ribs.

“That thing,” he murmurs, eyes narrowing, “it’s after me because of what you did, isn’t it?” 

“I don’t–”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” Noah’s voice echoes through the cavernous house. 

“I’m not lying to you!” 

Noah’s fist hits the wall beside her head and he feels his skin break open. 

“Yes you fucking are!” he yells. “You are lying to me! You’ve lied to me about everything, from the second I woke up in your guest room I knew you were keeping something from me but I couldn’t figure out what it was, until tonight when I woke up covered in vomit and piss and scared out of my fucking mind!” 

He squeezes her throat again, gritting his teeth, leaning in close enough so his breath moves her hair when he speaks. “You have been lying to me since the beginning and now you are going to tell me the fucking truth."

“I am not lying to you,” she repeats. Her voice is quieter, reserved, but still she meets his gaze when he pulls back to look her in the eye. Her chin rises in challenge. “I don’t know what it is, or why it’s after you. Why it’s after us. Let me go and we can talk about this. Please.” 

Frustrated, Noah slams his fist against the wall once again, but he does as she asks. Turning away, he shakes his mangled hand as he hisses through his teeth, pain spiking up his arm. She’s still standing against the wall when he turns back around.

“I have…so many questions, and you’re going to answer all of them,” he spits. “Are we clear?”

She nods. “I will try.” Her voice is quiet, defeated. “I can only tell you what I know.”

“What are you?” he asks quietly. Julia clutches an arm across her stomach and for the first time in all the time he's known her, she looks small and frail. 

“I think you know the answer to that question.”

Noah just stares at her. He huffs a small laugh, shaking his head. 

“I’m dreaming, this is a dream,” he mutters, grimacing. He turns away, clenching his aching hand and tapping the fist against his forehead. He can’t even look at her right at this moment, such is the rage that scorches through him. His heart thumps thunderously and he can feel the way his hands shake. Closing his eyes, Noah leans his head against the wall, taking a few deep, steadying breaths. 

“None of this…feels real,” he mutters, and for the first time the swirl of confusion and anxiety turns in his head. It stings as it pricks the underside of his skin and makes his stomach turn, and he hates it. “It feels like a dream, like some kind of fucked up nightmare I can’t wake up from.”  

“It’s not a dream,” she says softly. “It’s real. All of this is real. Everything you remember…” Her voice fades off and Noah turns his head, opening his eyes to look at her. His breath comes fast and shallow, his chest tight. 

“Noah.” 

She takes a step toward him and Noah’s chest surges with a fiery panic; he pushes off the wall and steps backward away from her. 

“No, get the fuck away from me,” he snarls. She stops in her tracks, watching him helplessly.

“You’re going to have a panic attack, I can hear your heart beating fast, you need to find a way to calm down or you’re going to go into tachycardia.” Julia holds out her hand. “Please Noah, just…take my hand, I can help you. Please don’t be afraid of me, I can smell how you fear me and I know you don’t want to but I need you to trust me right now so we can work through this.” 

“Fuck your stupid doctor speak, you can’t smell shit,” he spits. Out of the corner of his eye Noah can see the spare bedroom and somewhere in the corner of his memory he remembers waking there, alone and confused, the clamour of noise in his head louder than ever before. He stares at the doorway, then at Julia, and finally his eyes find the front door. 

“Please don’t leave like this, Noah,” Julia pleads softly, as if reading his thoughts. “Please stay so we can talk about this.” 

There’s a quiet, sugary note to her voice that stops him in his tracks. 

“Just listen to my voice, Noah,” she continues, “just hear my words and know that you are safe with me.” 

He glances back at her, staring down at her outstretched hand. For the first time, he registers the sting in his knuckles, how his wrist aches each time he clenches his fist. 

“Am I though?” 

He can barely get the words out. His chest still feels tight like the skin of a drum and there’s a sour taste at the back of his throat, a mix of bile and blood. But her words feel like a tonic, slowing the panic that simmers in his veins. He shakes his head against a sudden light-headedness, bringing the palm of his uninjured hand to his face, scrubbing over his eyes wearily. 

“Yes, you are. I promise. That’s it, just keep hearing me, and only me.” 

His back hits the wall unsteadily, eyes closing. It’s a different kind of darkness against the backs of his eyelids now, a dense, warm nothingness that feels like it could suffocate him to death if he lets it. 

“No…” He forces his eyelids up all the way, widening his eyes forcibly as his knees begin to shake and threaten to give out, but he plants his feet and locks his knees, fighting the unsteadiness that rises through him. 

“It’s okay, Noah, I’m right here.” 

Her hand on his arm doesn’t startle him like it should. He raises his eyes to find hers and the corners of her mouth rise a little in a small, reassuring smile. Noah’s heart swells with something he doesn’t have a name for because God, she’s fucking beautiful, he’s not sure why he’s never acknowledged that properly before in conscious words. 

She’s a fucking vampire. 

The word surges through Noah’s mind from somewhere unknown and it makes him suck in a harsh, violent breath. Before he can even think about it he throws himself at her again, a feral desperate noise rising from his throat. 

She hits the ground awkwardly and he hears the sickening smack of her head against the tiles. The unsettling disconnect sets in, as if he's watching himself from outside his own body: her beneath him, the way her arms spread out either side of her, how her body feels wrong - limp and yielding, helpless - against him as he watches his fingers curl around her neck once more, tangling in her hair. 

He squeezes, hard this time, with both hands, thumbs over her throat as he leans his body weight into her. The sound of sobs leaving a body in great heaving breaths fills the air around him and he wonders if it’s her trying to breathe around his hands but then his own vision blurs and he realizes it's him making the sound, and it stops him in his tracks. 

“Why aren’t you fighting?” 

Wiping his face on his shoulder, Noah finds himself in a terrifying no man’s land: not wanting to let up too much in case this is a ruse and she’s just waiting for a chance to get up and break him in half. But she just lies there, staring up at him as he looks down at her, and a stab of something akin to guilt fires through him. He pushes back at it stubbornly.

“Why won’t you fight back?” he repeats, scowling. 

“What’s the point?” she rasps through the tiniest of gaps he allows her. Noah lets up his grip a little. 

"You could squash me like a bug if you are what you say you are," he murmurs, eyes narrowing. "But…you aren't. Do you want to fight?"

"I won't fight you." 

And right then, Noah realizes she won’t. He knows she won’t. She never has. Everything she’s ever done for him has been in his best interests, right from the start. Noah grimaces, desperation rising in his throat, and he blinks hard, trying to find clarity in the chaos. 

He’s got no idea what to do. The helplessness is all-encompassing. He trusts no one, and the sour stench of paranoia fills his nostrils and makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He knows this downward spiral intimately at this point, how this feels before he free falls, and the self-awareness would ordinarily make him cautious, careful not to drag anyone down with him, but there’s a small, vicious part of him that doesn’t care if she falls, too. 

Noah loosens his grip on her a little more. He frowns. "Do you want to die? Is that it? Do you want me to kill you?" 

Julia closes her eyes and right before tears blur his sight once again Noah sees her lip quiver. A tiny movement, barely there, but it may as well be an earthquake to him. 

"Maybe you should," she whispers, opening her eyes. "It would be a small mercy."

He loosens his grip. Her words drive home the reality of what he’s doing and Noah freezes, staring down at Julia in shock.

"I–"

He doesn't know what to say. No words form on his lips except the beginnings of things he knows won't ever, ever be enough to make this right, so he says nothing and lets his body fall sideways off of her. 

His head hits the tiles and knocks his vision dark for a moment. There's something warm and wet beneath his elbows; with a start he realizes it's his own blood dripping down his arm, the smell of it thick in the air now as it congeals on his skin and in droplets on the floor; as if prompted his hand begins to throb. Noah raises it in front of his face, stares numbly at the broken skin, watching the blood dripping off his fingertips.

“Breathe. It’s just blood. You’re okay.” 

Noah starts when she speaks, shivering when her fingers connect with his. Turning his head, he tries to focus on her face, just a blur against white tiles until he blinks a few times and she comes into view. She lies on her back exactly where he left her; following the curve of her arm down, he sees when her fingertips curl against his knuckles, almost on instinct. 

“I can’t do this without you,” he whispers, “you’re the only one who can help me fix this.” 

She nods. When he rolls onto his side the pain in his hand doubles down and he winces, cradling his wrist against his chest. 

He wants to apologize, to make excuses for his behavior, but truth be told he’s not sure he can. It’s entirely him. On brand, or so the kids say these days. He wouldn’t call himself a violent person but he knows there’s an ugly, sadistic part of him that would happily cause mayhem and destruction and it bubbles close to the surface now, bitter and aching for a chance to break free, and for the first time Noah realizes just how close he came just now to letting it.  

“I’m sorry,” he mutters simply, praying that simplicity would cover a multitude of sins. 

Julia pushes herself upright, still curled in a ball as she hugs her knees to her chest. Noah takes a deep breath against the pain in his hand and follows suit, sliding gingerly on his ass to her side as she leans her back against the wall. 

“We can’t fight,” she whispers, “it’s what it wants. It wants us scared and alone, and we can’t give it that. We need to stick together.” 

“I know,” he replies quietly, “I just– I’m used to dealing with shit on my own. Just… handling it.” 

“You said before that you can’t figure this out without me. Well, I can’t do this without you. One day you’ll understand, but not…not right now. I still need to figure it out myself.”

“You’ll tell me when you do?” 

The small laugh she lets out is barely a sound but he feels her body move with it. “If I do, yes.” 

He watches as her eyes flicker up to the hand he has cradled against his chest before rising to meet his gaze. There’s a heat in her eyes he’s never seen before and for the first time a flicker of fear runs through him.

There’s a tiny memory, a momentary flood of sensation, of the feeling of her blood on his tongue, hitting the back of his throat, and what it felt like to die and come back to life again. A million moments coalesced into the smallest of fragments of time between time, so small he’s not even sure if it’s real or just a dream, but he knows he’ll never ever forget the feeling of utter euphoria that flooded through his cells when his body decided to live.

He wonders what it would feel like to live like that, with that feeling. To experience it every time one made the decision to survive, to live. To consume. 

Just the mere thought of it makes his heart beat faster. All the joy and love and pain of living compressed into one, single moment where he stands between the worlds of the living and the dead, and he can see now why the hunger could be unbearable. 

“Are you…do you need…?” 

It’s such a fucking ridiculous question he can barely voice it. She shakes her head, looking away. 

“No, I don’t, I’m fine.” 

They sit in silence for a while, and Noah finds it hard to catch his breath in the growing awkwardness between them. His hand starts to ache badly and each time he shifts his fingers even a little, even involuntarily, it sends shooting pain through his wrist that makes him grimace.

“Let me get you something for that,” she murmurs, getting to her feet. 

“No it’s fine–” 

“Horse shit,” she snaps, disappearing into the kitchen. Noah makes a face at her disappearing figure and pushes himself upright to follow her. 

The kitchen is barely lit, downlights under the overhead cupboards sending warm, golden light out into the room. Noah stops at the sink and turns on the tap and holds his hand beneath the stream of warm water, wincing as it moves the torn, loose skin. He starts a little when Julia appears at his side. 

Noah glances sideways at her as she fills a glass with water and takes a sip. He sees she still wears the tired, worried facade she opened the door with. She says something as he’s lost in thought and Noah misses it entirely, focused too much on how he’s never noticed how pale her skin is, translucent and unmarked. 

“W-what?” 

She points at his hand. “I said I can help with this,” she repeats. “One of those fingers needs a couple stitches. Here–” She hands him another small hand towel “–wrap it in this and follow me.” 

“No, it’s fine, I can–”

“You can be quiet, follow me, and let me stitch up your hand,” she retorts sharply and Noah snaps his mouth closed, following Julia into her office. He takes a seat on the sofa when she gestures for him to sit. 

“Were you telling the truth when you said you were born in Budapest?” 

This time, her smile does reach her eyes and it’s a few moments before she replies, as if distracted by memories of a time and a place long gone.

“I was telling the truth,” she replies, “I was born in Buda, a town on the west bank of the Danube, fifteen years after King Bela the Third took the throne.” 

“That means…absolutely nothing to me,” Noah admits sheepishly. “I failed European History. What year was that?”

“I doubt it was in your history books.” Her smile is glib, teasing. “I was born in 1188.” 

Noah tries not to flinch when she dabs antiseptic on his wounds. It stings, but he’s had it worse lately. He glances up at her, a wry grin quirking up his mouth. 

“That’s almost a thousand years ago.” 

She smiles; it’s a sad smile and it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, it is. This might sting a little, I’m going to numb your hand.” 

Noah blinks when she injects anesthetic in a few different places on his hand. 

“Do you…kill people when you drink their blood?” Noah asks. The question seems to catch her off guard, and she doesn’t answer right away. He opens his mouth to apologize. 

“No,” Julia says quietly. “I rarely kill now, only when necessary, and only if the victim won’t be missed.”

“A killer with a conscience.” 

She glances up at him sharply. “No, a predator who has survived for almost a thousand years and who would ideally like to survive at least a couple thousand more.” 

Noah falls silent. The perspective is unwelcome. She’ll outlive him, many times over. 

“Too much death brings too much attention,” she finishes. 

"Are there…are there more of you? Here in LA?"

Julia shrugs. "If there are, I haven't met them."

“You must be lonely.” 

“You get used to it.” 

An odd feeling tingles at the back of Noah’s mind. Had she intended to turn him? Was she lonely enough that she’d end his career, his mortal life, just for some pleasant company? 

The thought makes him uneasy. It’s a simple thing, to distrust, to always expect the worst of people, to believe that everyone’s out to get him. It’s a familiar feeling, a nasty, poisonous little hole where he only relies on himself, but it’s also a dangerous place, full of fear, doubt and hatred, anger and pain. It’s a place he’s dragged himself out of a million times, only to fall back into it time and time again, exhausted and barely holding on to reality. 

He watches on as she carefully threads delicate stitches into his skin, the gentle way she knits his skin back together so neatly, and, not for the first time does he wonder if the mistrust he feels she so deserves is misplaced, and it’s all his own doing. 

“I’m nearly done,” she murmurs after a while, jolting him from his thoughts. “Hold still.”

She makes tiny stitches now, surgical stitches; he’d know them anywhere. He can still feel them in his side where they sewed closed the wound made when they’d shoved a drainage pipe into his chest cavity, trying to relieve the pressure on his caved-in lung. Yet she works fast, and soon there are only a handful of fissures left.

“Julia,” he asks abruptly, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Why did you do it?” 

“Why did I do what?”

Right then Noah realizes he doesn’t know which ‘why’ he wants an answer to more, and he has a feeling that he’s only going to get limited goes at this tonight.  

“Why did you save me?” He figures that’s the most important one. It answers a lot of his questions. Julia moves the lamp a little to improve the light, leaning closer as she starts to thread through a new section of skin. 

“I…I don’t know,” she sighs, placing a butterfly strip over a neat pair of stitches. Noah winces when she tugs a little harder, tying off a stitch. She sighs out loud again when she reaches for another thread, and she almost sounds frustrated that she doesn’t have an answer for him.  

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I haven’t said that yet. Thank you for saving me.”

“You’re welcome,” comes her reply. 

It’s a long time before either of them speak again. When she’s done stitching she wraps his hand lightly to keep them in place. He watches as she tidies up the bloodied swabs and needles, stretching his fingers out lightly. 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t take you seriously when you contacted me,” Julia says suddenly. “Given everything that had happened, I should have done more.” 

Noah looks down at his feet. “You didn’t know,” is all he says. 

She stops in front of him, and Noah doesn’t flinch this time when her hand comes to rest carefully on his cheek. She studies him carefully and he recognises the tiny furrow of concentration that appears between her brows. 

“You haven’t been sleeping.” 

Noah chuckles dryly. “It's a bit hard to sleep when my dreams are out to get me,” he quips. 

“You will stay here tonight.” 

Noah snaps his gaze up to meet hers but she turns away quickly, picking up the bag of trash on the bureau. She disappears out the door and down the hall, and Noah has to jog to catch up with her. 

“I–I can’t –hold on, Julia, just wait.” 

She whirls around so suddenly Noah almost bowls her over. 

“I can’t just…stay here, no warning,” he blurts out, “I need to let the rest of the guys know, I need to let my housemates know…” 

Julia makes a face and turns around again, starting down the stairs into the basement. “You can, and you will,” she says firmly. “Let them know. All of this is my fault, my responsibility, and I need to make sure you’re safe until I can figure out how to fix this.” 

Noah watches from the top of the stairs as she disappears into the darkness below. Sighing, he pulls out his phone and starts tapping out a message to Jolly as he makes his way back toward the lounge room. 

Little white lies. 

It’s what his life is built around these days and it kind of irks him that it’s come to this. It’s too complicated, too hard to look people in the eye. But most of the time it’s too exhausting to tell the truth because the truth is so wildly unbelievable that it’s easier to just tell people what they want to hear. 

Can u tell me where u are?

No. 

Are u safe? 

Yes. 

Are u under medical supervision?

Yes. 

When will u b home?

When I get home. 

Can we come see u?

It’s better if you don’t. I don’t want all y’all to see me like this. 

What do u want me to tell the others?

That I’m getting help, not to worry. That I’ll be home soon. 

Fine. For the record, I don’t like this and I’m gonna fucking kick ur ass when u get home. U scared the shit out of me last night.

I know. I’m sorry. 

Noah tosses the phone onto the sofa with a little more aggression than is probably necessary. Sitting down with a groan, he scrubs his face with his hands. The frustration still simmers in his belly, the anger a little less so but still it scrapes at the underside of his skin like the tip of a knife and he knows it won’t take much pressure for it to poke through once more and that thought alone makes his anxiety spike. 

Julia’s footsteps echo through the house as she comes back up from the basement, but Noah doesn’t move to find her. He listens to her pottering around in the kitchen, taps turning on, refrigerator opening and closing, cupboards opening and crockery being moved around, set down on the counter. 

He wants more answers. He needs more answers. He’s just not sure how forthcoming those answers are going to be and the thought of having to drag them out of her doesn’t fill him with enthusiasm. 

Noah takes a few more calming moments to himself before he gets to his feet. 

The kitchen is still dark save for the down light that illuminates the counter at which Julia works. Noah leans against the doorframe, watching as she slices and cuts and dices, and it’s not until she swipes a hand across her nose does he register what he sees. 

Noah comes to a stop beside her, waiting for a moment to reach in and take the knife. She slams the blade into the carrot on the chopping board in front of her, and when she pauses to pick up the diced shards Noah takes the knife and sets it on the drainage board behind him. 

Julia closes her eyes, leans on her hands on the counter’s edge. 

“I don’t blame you,” he says quietly. 

“I blame me,” she replies sharply, bright eyes flashing. “There are…things that happen when I’m with you.” 

“Like what?” 

“Things that I can’t explain.” She picks up the bowl of carrots and walks around him, tipping it onto a small platter that already contains olives, bread and cheese. It’s not until she turns back to him that Noah sees the redness around her eyes. 

“Wait, wait, stop.” He pushes off the counter, stepping in front of her. “You’re bleeding…from your eyes.” 

She huffs a wet laugh, dabbing at her eyes with the dark sleeve of her sweater. “I’m crying, Noah. We cry blood, not tears.” 

“Is…this…one of the things?” he asks softly, lifting his hand slowly to her face. She doesn’t move as he gently swipes a finger through the pink, blood-stained trail that runs down her face when the tear gathering on her eyelash loosens and falls. 

“No, this is normal for us.” 

“Does it hurt?” he whispers. 

“No. It just makes me look super fucking metal.” 

He glances up to meet her gaze and huffs a small laugh. “You’re learning the lingo.”

“I have a very good teacher,” she retorts gently, picking up the plate of food. “Come. You need to eat. And I need to make some calls.” 

Thank you for reading! Chapter Eleven coming soon.

Masterlist for The Grey here. Masterlist of fic here.

#noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fic #fic recs

[blahehblah]

DAMMIT A DEPLOYMENT JUST AS SOON AS I CATCH UP WITH EVERYTHING????? AWE MAN I’M GONNA CRY

The Younger Kind Part 26 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley says some things in the afterglow of winning custody of Noah that surprise you in the best way. You believe him, but you also need some time to think. But with some bad news on the horizon, when he tells you that he trusts you with Noah more than he trusts anyone else, you don't doubt him at all.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

"Just stay in bed," Bradley rasped when his alarm woke both of you on Thursday morning. You'd spent a good portion of Wednesday night telling him that you needed to go home, get used to your own space again. And then he had spent a few minutes listing all the reasons he wanted you to stay. 

Your favorite reason was that he and Noah needed you with them. He was insistent. 

"Daddy," you groaned, reaching for him, trying to keep him in bed. He rolled his big body on top of yours, propping himself up with his elbows to keep from crushing you. "I need to finish my school assignments by next week so I can graduate."

"I'll help you get them ready to submit," he promised as he kissed your lips. "Now you just stay put, Princess. I'm taking the day off from work. I'll drop Noah at daycare, try to get him back on his normal routine since he missed yesterday. And then I'll be back to spend the day with you."

"Really?" you asked as he got out of bed on your side. You had a side of the bed. You had a specific side of the bed that was yours in Bradley's bedroom in his beautiful house. You sank back against the pillows in contentment, so cozy in Bradley's sweatshirt.

"Yes," he promised. "I'll get him up and out the door, and I'll be back soon." You watched him get dressed in some jeans and a soft tee shirt. He shoved his phone and wallet into his pockets before kissing you on the forehead and saying, "I love you," like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

And then he was gone, and you were thinking about what Meredith might be doing right now. You hoped she was crying over the fact that you had outsmarted her, since she had been trying to manipulate you as much as she had Bradley. You rolled onto your side with a smile. Bradley already seemed so much more relaxed now that he and Noah were free and clear of Meredith. He'd briefly mentioned getting restraining orders, citing the desire to never hear that you saw Meredith in public again as his main reason for looking into it. He said he'd talk to Tracy about everything. 

You were just about to doze off again when Bradley walked back in with Noah in his arms. "He wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to you," he rasped, setting his son on the bed. You supposed that meant he didn't mind if Noah saw where you had slept last night. 

"Come here, sweet Noah," you whispered, pulling him in for a big hug and kissing his chubby cheek. I love you. Have fun at daycare."

"Love you," he said in his soft, little voice before Bradley scooped him up again and left the room. 

When you heard the front door close, you knew you wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, so you stretched and then got out of bed for the day. You wanted to grab a shower, but you thought it might be fun to wait until Bradley got back to do that. Instead you changed into one of his floral print shirts and made your way to the kitchen. 

You really should have been working on something for school, but when you opened the refrigerator for the coffee creamer, you sighed. They were basically out of food again already. A few eggs left in the carton and some vegetables would make a decent enough breakfast, but you'd need to help Bradley go grocery shopping again soon. 

You had just finished your mug of coffee and the grocery list when you heard the front door. "Hi," you called out to Bradley, and he walked into the kitchen where he immediately froze. There were coffee cups in his hands, and you could already see where he'd written Princess on one of them. "I'm going to make you breakfast."

But he was too busy staring at you, his gaze trailing down your body. You were immediately reminded that the only article of clothing you were wearing was his shirt, completely unbuttoned. 

Bradley set down the coffees and smirked at you. "You're gonna make me breakfast, Princess?" he asked. He grabbed your purple crown from where it had been left overnight next to the toaster, and he carefully put it on your head. 

"Yes," you whispered. "I was going to make you an omelette."

He groaned as his fingers stroked down along your cheek, caressing the side of your neck before continuing down the front of your body. You shivered as your eyes closed when he said, "You're so sensitive."

His fingers lingered on your belly before he started stroking your pussy. "Daddy," you gasped, and then he was on his knees in front of you. 

"You're perfect," he crooned, looking up at you. "Everything I want." His voice and his eyes were so open and honest, and then you ran your fingers through his hair. 

"I knew you'd have a good day, Daddy," you whispered with a grin. "After yesterday, you deserve a relaxing one."

"You know what will help me relax?" he asked. 

"Tell me."

And then his mouth was on your pussy.

--------------------

Bradley licked you up and down, loving the way you moaned softly every time his nose tapped your clit. When he ran his palm up and down the back of your thigh, you carefully put your leg over his shoulder, giving him even better access to your pretty pussy. And that purple paper crown on your head? All that did was make him feel like he and Noah had claimed you for their own. 

"Daddy?" you whispered breathlessly. "Are you going to make me squirt?"

Well. Now that was the only thing he wanted to do. "Is that what you need, Baby?" he asked, rubbing his mustache across your clit.

Your response was a bit incoherent, but it sounded like a yes. And Bradley was in the best mood he'd been in for weeks. Noah was his, and you were his, and he was going to meet up with Tracy next week to finalize everything that was important to him. So he'd gladly spend the whole day, right here on his knees with his mouth on your body until you came all over his face.

He smiled against you as he lapped up your wetness, but you really got loud when he added his fingers into the mix. You were leaning back against the counter, gripping the edge, and he knew he was going to have to get you to the edge of overstimulation. Just like last time in his bed. And just like the first time on the couch. 

So he changed up his pace, sometimes languid and sometimes frantic. And he changed up the pressure, sometimes feather soft and sometimes rough. His knees were starting to ache from how they were digging into the kitchen floor, but he didn't dare move. Because you were starting to get loud. Your head was tipped back, and your perfect breasts were on display as his colorful shirt fell open even more on your body. 

You were so young and flawless, and he never even tried to kid himself about the way that turned him on. But now you were his, and he would love you and take care of you well so that you'd want to stay. 

"Bradley!" you cried out, leg tightening against his back. "Oh!"

He grunted and rubbed his fingertips back and forth across your clit as the little bud tightened for him. He smiled as he changed his tempo. A little slower, and you were coming for him. A split second later, and you had pushed the back of his head closer as you squirted onto his mustache and lips. 

"Princess," he moaned as you sagged against him a little bit. You were still reeling as he cleaned you up with his tongue, eliciting little gasps from your softly parted lips. When he stood with a soft groan, he palmed himself through his jeans. He was rock hard as he pressed himself against you and stroked your tits. You were wrung out, biting your lip as your eyes fluttered open and closed, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted it so badly. "Will you let me fuck you, Baby?"

You nodded and turned your back to him. "Yes," you sighed, leaning down on the counter with your cheek pressed to your crossed arms. "Yes."

Bradley gingerly unzipped his jeans and pulled himself free, and when he buried his cock in your warmth he hissed in pleasure. You were mewling and whining softly, seemingly still exhausted from soaking his face, and Bradley couldn't believe you were letting him get off like this. He grabbed you by your hips, the hem of his shirt you were wearing brushing his wrists. Then he fucked you hard and thought about how you should wear his clothes all the time.

He wasn't going to last long in this state, palming and squeezing your hips and ass as he got you whining his name softly. He went a little harder, but as soon as you looked up at him and smiled softly, he was filling you with his cum. His loud groans filled the kitchen as his movements became jerky. And then he collapsed against your back with his lips on your neck. 

"You want me to make you an omelette, Daddy?" you asked softly while he was still inside you. 

"Yeah," he replied, wrapping you up in his arms. "Then I'm taking you out to lunch. We're going on a real date."

He watched you preen as his cum dripped down your legs. But you did nothing to clean it up as you washed your hands and started cracking eggs into a bowl. You added what was left of the cheese that was in the refrigerator along with some onions and peppers. After you made two omelettes, you settled onto his lap at the table

When you looked at the coffee cups, you hopped up again and started to dig in one of the drawers near the sink. "What's wrong, Baby?"

"Nothing," you murmured, returning to his lap a moment later with a permanent marker. Bradley watched you scribble over the word peasant on his cup and write Knight in your tidy handwriting. 

"That's flattering coming from a Princess," he whispered next to your ear. 

"It's true," you told him, taking his chin in your hand and kissing his lips. "You saved me and then you fought for Noah."

He closed his eyes as you stroked his chin with your thumb. The fact that he had his son all to himself meant he could share him with you. And he was working on a restraining order against Meredith to keep everyone a little safer. So maybe he was capable of more than he originally thought.

----------------------------

Shower time with Bradley ended up being more sweet than anything else as you and he got each other all soapy. He brought his phone in to play some music, and he sang along softly as his big hands glided along your slick skin. 

Once you were all dried off and in Bradley's bedroom, you just stood there naked. "I need to go back to my place. I hardly have any clothes here, and I need to do laundry."

He just grunted and said, "You should just move in with us."

You started to pull on your denim shorts and one of your tops as you rolled your eyes. "You're not serious."

But it didn't seem like he was joking at all, actually. He paused and looked at you as he put on some deodorant, his brown eyes sincere. "I'm serious," he said, his voice sounding a little more vulnerable than you expected it to. 

"I'll...think about it." But you already had. And the idea of it was too exciting for you to finish processing in front of him right now. He'd just been awarded sole custody of Noah yesterday. Both of you were probably feeling a little high on adrenaline and elation. 

But he just nodded and reached for your hand. "Let's stop at your place later after I take you out for lunch. If you want me to drop you off, I will."

You were already considering how it would be if you didn't get to make dinner for Noah and give him a kiss before Bradley tucked him into bed for the night, and you didn't like it one bit. You knew what your decision would end up being. You loved being here too much. Maybe you'd just stop home and get more of your stuff and your car.

As Bradley closed the passenger door for you after you climbed into the Bronco, you couldn't help but smile. "Is this our first date?" you asked him as he started the engine and backed out of his driveway. 

"No way," he replied. "Gotta count all the nights we watched movies on the couch with Noah. Oh, and the night I fed you the dinner that my date didn't stick around to eat," he said, smiling at you as he drove to one of the cute shopping districts in the city. "And just yesterday I took you to my custody hearing. That was a pretty romantic day out, yeah?"

You bit your lip and sighed. "So romantic. You really dial it up to eleven, Daddy."

"Only the best for a Princess," he insisted with a grin as he parallel parked in front of a cute bookshop. "I made a reservation for the cafe across the street."

Your eye bugged out. It was an expensive French bistrot. You were wearing cutoff shorts. "I'm underdressed!"

"You're fine," he insisted, leaning over to kiss your lips before he took the keys from the ignition. "But we have half an to kill. Bookshop?"

"Absolutely," you agreed. A few minutes later, you were running your fingers along the spines of some mystery novels while Bradley followed you so closely, you could feel his body heat. When you stopped to pick up a hardback, his lips found your neck, and his hands found your waist.

"Daddy," you scolded in a whisper.

"Can't help it."

Then you headed for the children's area, and your eyes lit up. "Noah would love this one!" You held up a picture book of dinosaurs, and Bradley let you hand it to him. 

"What else?" he asked, smiling as he followed you down the next aisle. 

"Outer space. Farm animals. Opposites. Cars. Fairy Tales." You handed him four more books and then picked up a fifth. "Airplanes."

"Well, he really needs that one," Bradley said, adding it to the pile as well.

"They have coloring books!" You knelt in front of the rack and chose three that he didn't already have, and Bradley took them before helping you to your feet. "Which one would he like the most besides the airplanes? I want to get him two."

Bradley shrugged. "We can get all of them."

"I can't afford all of them."

His eyebrows went up. "Baby, I don't want you spending your money on us. I'll buy them."

"But-"

"They can still be from you," he promised. "But I'll pay for them."

"Okay," you whispered, suddenly reminded that you and Bradley were not at the same points in life. He had a thriving career. You were going to be scrambling to finish your assignments in time to graduate and look for a job. And now, because of Meredith, you knew he had money. 

But you let him take you by the hand and lead you toward the register. You knew these books were going to cost nearly a hundred dollars. Then Bradley stopped short in front of a display of baby books. You felt his arm slip around your waist as he leaned down so his lips grazed your temple. 

"Been meaning to ask you, Princess," he said softly, and you turned to look up at him. His face was calm as his gaze dipped down to your lips. "Were you really buying a pregnancy test when you saw Meredith? You think you could be pregnant?"

"No!" you replied with a startled laugh. "Her lawyer just said that to get me upset! I'm not!"

"Okay," he said with a shrug. "Just checking to see if we should be buying any baby books."

You just shook your head as he set the books for Noah down near the registers. "Absolutely not! That would be a disaster."

"Nah," he whispered, taking out his wallet. "It would be okay. Well...maybe not quite yet, since you're just graduating now. But...later."

You were silent as he paid for the books, but you laced your fingers through his. You weren't sure quite what to say, as you and he walked across the street, so you just let your mind race with possibilities. 

And then you were seated at the adorable cafe table with him for lunch. The restaurant was all pastel colors, floral arrangements and expensive desserts. He ordered a bottle of champagne to share, and you were a little bit tipsy as you giggled and bit into a lemon macaron when the bill arrived. Your eyes bugged out when you saw it. Three hundred dollars. 

"Bradley," you gasped. "How much was the champagne?" 

"Don't worry about it," he said, giving you a funny look. 

But as you walked back toward the Bronco with his arm around your waist and a head full of champagne bubbles, you blurted out, "I'm not interested in you for your money."

"Never thought you were," he replied casually, opening the passenger door for you with a kiss. "Let's go stop by your place."

As he walked around to the driver's door, you knew you should insist that he drop you off at home. But when he climbed in, he turned to you and said, "I kind of miss Noah. Mind if we pick him up early after we stop to get you more clothing?"

And then your love for both of them felt so palpable all you could say was, "I miss him, too."

"It's settled then."

-----------------------

Later that evening, after the three of you went grocery shopping, Bradley watched you teach Noah how to play Go Fish on the living room floor with a forgotten bowl of popcorn next to you. He was essentially just your servant for the night, bringing both of you snacks and drinks while you played. Not that he minded at all. 

The fact that you tried to let him know you weren't into him just because he had a job and some money was pretty humorous. But then again, you'd just witnessed Meredith trying to fleece him. So while he didn't need you to say anything about it at all, he did appreciate that you had. 

Bradley had also surprised himself. When he considered that you might be pregnant? Well, he didn't hate the idea of it one bit. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted Noah to have a younger sibling or two. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to raise said children with you. But you were young. There would be time to plan for that in the future.

He sat on the couch and sorted his mail from the past few days. He'd been so preoccupied with Meredith and Tracy and everything going on, he realized he needed to catch up on chores. "Almost time for bed, Bub," he said, smiling as you let Noah win at the card game. Then his hand froze before opening the envelope that arrived today. 

Deployment papers. 

If he hadn't skipped out on work again today, he would have been informed in person. Shit. Six weeks away from home. He watched you laughing as you ate a few pieces of popcorn. And then Noah was climbing into your lap and asking you to read another one of the books you'd picked out for him. 

"Okay, but your dad said it's almost bedtime. How about we go brush your teeth and get pajamas on? And then I'll read the outer space book before you do goodnight kisses?"

Noah readily agreed, and then you were leading him from the room. Bradley took the opportunity to email Tracy as well as send a text to Nat. His best friend had been bugging him to elaborate about yesterday, but she also knew he needed a little bit of time to process things and take a little break after all the worrying. 

"Daddy?" you called out, and Bradley smiled as he stood. "We're ready for bed."

"I'm coming." He sat on Noah's floor and listened to you read the book about solar systems and space exploration while Noah looked at the pictures. And when it was time for goodnight kisses, Noah gave you one and then Bradley leaned down to smother his face with a dozen. He giggled and then yawned, and as Bradley took your hand and pulled you out of the room, Noah's eyes were drifting closed. 

You started to pull Bradley toward his bedroom with a smirk, but he shook his head. The startled look on your face reminded him that you were only accustomed to getting what you wanted around here now. And he loved that. "I need to show you something first," he insisted, kissing your forehead. 

"Okay, but why do you sound so reserved?"

"Just come here, please." He picked up the mail from where he left it, and then he sat down on the couch. You eased yourself down next to him, taking the papers when he handed them to you. "You know what that is?"

"No." But as soon as you scanned the header, your eyes went wide. You read for a few seconds before whispering, "You're being deployed?"

"Yes," he replied, but you had returned to the document in your hands, your eyes moving quickly down the page before you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

"Who's going to care for Noah?! Bradley, he needs to be on a schedule with daycare. And someone needs to make sure he eats healthy dinners and snacks. And he needs bedtime stories and coloring books." You looked panicked, and then tears filled your eyes. "And I don't want you to go away. I'll miss you too much."

He collected you onto his lap and swiped your tears away as they fell, but he couldn't help but smile. Your concern for Noah, ever since the very first day, made him feel so calm. And he knew you loved his son. "Well, I'm kind of hoping you'll care for Noah while I'm gone."

"Me?" you squeaked, lips parted in surprise. "You'd trust me with Noah by myself for six weeks?"

"More than I'd trust anyone else."

You threw your arms around his neck again and sobbed against him. "I'll do it. I'll stay with Noah. I'll take expert care of him."

"You already do."

-------------------------

Oh, Daddy! We don't want you to leave! But the way he trusts Princess is everything. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

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#bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun fic #fic recs

[blahehblah]

past few months

#memaw