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soaps-mohawk · 2 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 5: What I Want
Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown
A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.
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(Gif pulled from google)
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You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs. 
You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up. 
Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble. 
“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”
You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think. 
“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.” 
“Good.” 
You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?” 
“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.” 
You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them. 
“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand. 
“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.” 
“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.” 
“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it. 
“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles. 
“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake. 
“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.” 
“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door. 
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Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts. 
“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up. 
“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone. 
“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.” 
“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?” 
“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.” 
“Oh? How so?” 
“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins. 
Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.” 
“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.” 
“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.” 
“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.” 
“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.” 
“We’re doing our best.” 
“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.” 
“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.” 
“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.” 
Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.” 
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You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too. 
You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost. 
“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway. 
You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough. 
He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through. 
Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt. 
You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them. 
Tattoos. 
He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings. 
You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him. 
“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand. 
You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles. 
“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.” 
You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you. 
“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you. 
You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit. 
“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...” 
“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him. 
You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run. 
You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.” 
“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks. 
He has a point. 
“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.” 
You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit. 
“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.” 
You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well. 
Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes. 
“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice. 
A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit. 
“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you. 
“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.” 
“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone. 
He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in. 
Don’t back down. 
Don’t back down. 
You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega. 
“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.” 
His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength. 
“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance. 
“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless. 
“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice. 
He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit. 
The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face. 
“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.” 
You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back. 
He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.
“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?” 
“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room. 
“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.” 
Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight. 
“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead. 
“It’s his fault.” You murmur. 
“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows. 
Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.
It’s not yours. 
“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position. 
Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.” 
Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode. 
“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.” 
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“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office. 
“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince. 
Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.�� 
“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly. 
“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.” 
“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.” 
“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?” 
Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust. 
“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.” 
Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.” 
You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.” 
“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.” 
You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering. 
“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?” 
You nod. “Ozone.” 
She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.” 
Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess? 
You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack. 
“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?” 
“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”
“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks. 
“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.” 
“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look. 
You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.” 
“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down. 
You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.” 
“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks. 
You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.” 
“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?” 
You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud. 
“Why not?” She asks. 
“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur. 
“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks. 
You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.” 
Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.” 
Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse. 
“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you. 
That word again. 
You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week. 
You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply. 
“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you. 
“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.” 
“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?” 
“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.” 
“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.” 
Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain. 
“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?” 
“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.” 
Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.” 
She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin. 
“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide. 
“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.” 
“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...” 
Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”  
The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain. 
“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?” 
You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.” 
“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.” 
She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this. 
That’s not a conversation you want to have right now. 
You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her. 
It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to. 
You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in. 
“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly. 
“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys. 
She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms. 
Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?” 
You nod. “Thank you.” 
She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.” 
You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet. 
You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any. 
Ask for one thing that you want. 
It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to. 
You could ask for something that’s not material. 
Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today. 
You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed. 
You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants. 
You can want this. 
You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this. 
You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling. 
You want this. 
“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-” 
His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed. 
“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-” 
Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip. 
“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.” 
“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-” 
Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours. 
His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist. 
“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.” 
Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.” 
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You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything. 
This isn’t a want. 
You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow. 
“Come in.” 
Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there? 
“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen. 
You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.” 
You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air. 
“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough. 
You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.” 
“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.” 
You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap. 
Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him. 
“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him. 
“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand. 
His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders. 
All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you. 
You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe. 
You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest. 
“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck. 
You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent. 
“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body. 
You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it. 
“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly. 
His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before. 
You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again. 
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The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south. 
He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him. 
He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall. 
Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days. 
“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?” 
He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest. 
“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.” 
Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked. 
Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed. 
His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock. 
Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you. 
He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips. 
He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days. 
“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing. 
“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall. 
Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him. 
You’re going to be the death of him. 
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Taglist, part 1:
@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006
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thesolarangel · 5 months
Text
Source of pleasure
1.094 words · Rating: Explicit +18 · Halsin x Astarion x reader · AO3
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Tags: threesome, unprotected P in V! (remember: wrap it before you tap it!), coming inside, creampie, dirty talk, chubby reader, they/them pronouns for gnc-reader, laughing while fucking, polyamory
(Oh noo, the filthy smut I imagined in my head turned into ✨love making✨as soon as I was writing it down… Whoopsie)
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________
“You’re doing amazing, darling.”
Astarion purred, grazing his lips down your neck and sucking into the soft flesh. He was seated behind you on the bed, his chest against your back, whispering sultry things into your ear. His hands were now on your plump tits, kneading them, teasing your nipples mercilessly, making you moan unrestrained. 
Halsin was kneeling in front of you, two fingers working you open, his thumb pressing lightly on your sensitive clit. The druid presented such a gorgeous sight before you, all big and broad and a beautiful hairy chest to die for. His hard cock stood proudly between his legs. The bulbous pink head and thick shaft making your mouth water, you wanted him inside so badly.
“Look how big he is, how he's throbbing for you.” Astarion’s low voice was sending shivers down your spine. 
Halsin watched your face closely for any sign of discomfort, he wanted to make absolutely sure that you were ready for him. You moaned, encouraged by Astarion’s words and eager for Halsin to finally give you what you wanted most…  
Astarion wasn’t unaffected by all of this. You felt his hardness against your lower back. He was straining against his pants. You tried to turn around to get your hands on him, you didn’t want him to be left out, but he stopped you mid way.
“Ah-ah-ah, this is just for you, darling”, he pulled you snug against his chest and continued kissing your neck. “Let us take care of you, hmm?”
Halsin bent down to cup your cheek with his other hand. He captured your mouth in a gentle kiss, grazing over your lips in languid motions. He was always so careful with you as if you’d break under his big hands. You felt so small with him hovering over you.
You loved the way he made love to you. You always felt so secure and protected with him. But right now with Astarion teasing you, finding your sensitive spots and Halsin’s big fingers exploring the depths of your warm, wet cunt, you were close to your limit.
“Please, Halsin…” you whined impatiently. 
“Don’t make them wait any longer”, Astarion chimed in while roaming his hands over your round belly and your alluring tits. 
Halsin smiled, “I hear you.” He stole another heated kiss and then he positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, making you gasp. “Don’t worry, you’ll get what you desire, sweetheart.”
Fetching and opening the small vial of lubricant, he let a few drops dribble onto your vulva, smearing it into your cunt with the head of his cock. 
You and Astarion both made a lewd noise in unison while watching. Astarion’s hands wandered downwards and spread your labia open to watch Halsin nudge his cock inside. Cautiously, he fed you inch for inch of his hard length, making you gasp at the stretch.
Once Halsin was seated inside you, Astarion spoke up once again, voice heavy with lust. “You take him so well, every inch of him…”
”By the oak father, you feel incredible", Halsin agreed with a low grunt that went straight to your swelling cunt. He caressed your thighs and the soft flesh at your waist as he waited for you to get accustomed to his thick shaft.
“Do you feel generously stuffed, darling? Does he fill you up nicely?” Astarion purred close to your ear while he watched.
“Yes… “ You moaned in response. You closed your eyes and threw your head back onto Astarion’s shoulder.
Halsin bent down to pull Astarion into a filthy kiss. Astarion made a surprised yelp that turned into a needy whimper as Halsin devoured his lips hungrily.
He smirked when he broke the kiss, gazing deeply into Astarion’s eyes. “Let’s make sure they’ll never forget this.”
Astarion stared at him and you could feel his erection growing harder against your back. He adored the druid as much as you did and you felt it. “Sounds like a plan”, he whispered seductively.
Halsin grabbed your waist and started fucking you with slow, languid thrusts while Astarion had one hand on your breast and one on your clit, massaging it just the way you liked it.
Halsin looked gorgeous above you. His tanned skin was glistening with sweat, his stomach flexed as he plowed into you, making your tummy and your tits jiggle with every thrust. 
Being loved by these two beautiful creatures was like something out of a wonderful dream. Watching Halsin’s adoring expression while he was fucking you, feeling Astarion’s gentle, experienced touch on your hot skin, all of it made your heart race and you couldn’t get enough. You whined desperately as Halsin picked up the pace.
“Fuuuuck…” Halsin grunted.
“Listen, darling, you reduced our handsome druid to profanities, well done!” Astarion chuckled.
You let out a hoarse laugh, but Halsin’s hard thrusts stifled your laughter. You watched his length disappear inside you over and over again, while listening to the lewd sounds and moans that filled the room. 
Halsin pounded into you mercilessly, Astarion rubbed your clit harder and suddenly your orgasm hit you with such brutal force and you cried out when deep hot pleasure washed over you and through your body for several seconds. 
“Sweetheart, I’m close, where–” Halsin began, unable to finish his sentence, trying so hard to hold it in.
Astarion noticed you were distracted from your orgasm. “Do you want him to come inside you, baby, hmm?” He asked while he was fondling your tits and grinding against your back, chasing his own release. 
“Yes, please…” You whimpered. 
Halsin was panting above you and with a few more erratic thrusts, he spilled his big load inside you. At the same time, you felt Astarion’s trembling motions coming to a halt as he burst in his pants with a rough grunt.
You made a pleased hum when Halsin pulled out carefully and you watched his cum leaking out of you and onto the sheets.
After all three of you had cleaned up, you got back into bed, with you in the middle, Halsin spooning you from behind and Astarion on the other side, facing you. He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead and whispered sweetly: “Hmm, thank you, darling, that was wonderful.”
“My heart, you are so loved…” Halsin peppered your cheeks and your neck with little kisses while he snuggled his big body against yours.
“You make me so happy, both of you.” you murmured as you slowly drifted off to sleep, safe and warm between your two lovers.
______
MDNI divider by @cafekitsune here
tag list: not sure who to tag here, since it's my first fanfic for this fandom, so I'm just gonna tag the ones that agreed to be tagged in everything and some others who are in the fandom and read smut...
@starlady66 @fenharel-enaste @queenmeriadoc @elronds-pointy-ears @corrodedbisexual @lady-of-imladris @aiwe-the-little-bird
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bigassmoonchild · 7 months
Text
Simons Rut
Simon bullied his cock back into you, knot starting to inflate. He groaned, having stuffed you full of three other loads, grunts and groans becoming all you could hear.
His head fell on your shoulder, chest pressing into your back and whines coming from your mouth with the overstimulation. He nipped at your neck, sucking your scent into his throat to coat his tongue. A moan ripped from his neck, eyes rolling back into his head.
You could feel his cock sliding against your g-spot, sending spasms of pleasure through your gut. Biting your gland and remarking you, his knot started catching on you as he slid in and out.
Whines were coming from his throat, his mind lost in the thoughts of breed, mate, fuck a pup into Omega, and you couldn't move from under him, mouth open and drool slipping down your chin.
Your cunt spasmed around him, his knot finally catching you and he pumped his hips shortly. Hips pressing back into him and grinding on him, your own eyes rolling back with the pleasure as you kept spasming around Simons cock.
"Good little Omega, milking me, going to fuck pups into you, need you to be full of me," he growled into your ear, his mouth dropping open as his orgasm finally spread through him, dropping to his elbows and further caging you onto the bed.
Simon stayed like that for a moment, his nose rubbing along your neck as he filled his head with your scent, almost growing drunk on it. When he finally came to, he pushed his weight off of you and slowly moved the two of you over, letting you sit on his lap.
He ran his hands down your sides, your head falling on his shoulder and nudging at his own scent gland, licking at it to fill his scent in your own mouth.
Massaging at your thighs, you felt yourself relaxing around him, eyes falling shut from the exhaustion of cumming so many times around him.
Some time later, Simon was pulling you off of him and allowing you to come back to the present while carrying you into the bathroom, starting the tub after setting you on the counter.
You'd tugged Simon in the tub with you as he'd tried to set you in there and leave. Him joining you caused some water to splash around the sides, but you got to work washing his hair as he held you in his lap.
During his ruts, he was rougher than normal but became the sweetest Alpha, happy when his Omega was more than satisfied before his next wave came through him and had him bending you over the sink to watch yourself get fucked.
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Text
♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆
Just getting back into writing, so warning: potentially ooc Ghost.
♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆
- cbf! Simon, who reaches out to an old acquaintance to send his first paycheck to you. He has the barracks and mess hall and knows you have no such comforts.
- cbf! Simon, who finds you left town as soon as you turned 18 from said acquaintance.
-cbf! Simon, who can't seem to track you down no matter how hard he tries. It's just like you disappeared. He can't even find any semblance of an internet presence.
-cbf! Simon, who lets it haunt him. The memories of your friendship and the absence of knowledge regarding your current life pop into his head at the worst times.
- cbf! Simon, who believes he's cursed. That he'll lose everyone he loves.
-cbf! Simon, who eventually accepts that he'll never have a bond like the two of you shared. Sure, he has his teammates. But they don't care for each other the same way you two did.
-cbf! Simon, who eventually learns to live with your absence. He even befriends his other teammates and (eventually) the tf141.
-cbf! Simon, who sees a girl eerily similar to what he imagined you'd look like, all grown up while out celebrating a successful mission with the task force.
-cbf! Simon, with a concerned Johnny, asking if he's okay as he stares at the girl with glazed over eyes.
-cbf! Simon, who hears your laugh, coming from the girls mouth. He immediately stands up to push Johnny away and head towards the bar.
-cbf! Simon, who approaches you with Johnny hot on his heels.
-cbf! Simon, who sees the confused look in your eyes as he approaches you and feels an ache in his chest.
-cbf! Simon, who has to make sure it's you. He calls out your name, and there's recognition on your face. Towards the name, not him.
-cbf! Simon, who's crushed when you ask, "Do I know you?" As if seeing the hurt in his eyes, you add, "Sorry. Can't really recognize you with the mask on mate."
-cbf! Simon, who doesn't think twice before ripping his balaclava. He thinks he hears a gasp come from Johnny. But all that matters is the look in your eyes.
-cbf! Simon, who almost collapses as he hears you mumble, "Simon?"
♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆
If this does well, I'd like to make it into a short fic:)
Thoughts would be appreciated.
♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆
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diejager · 1 month
Note
omegaverse anon here, could you do the cod group with a beta reader? Like, they stay really out of the way, not really used to getting any attention from alphas or omegas
Unusual Attraction Cw: omegaverse, awkward!reader, ell me if I missed any.
You were an oddity of a beta, your stronger nose made interacting with people harder than other betas, it made you stand out from your peers, they deemed you a beta stronger than the usual beta and that made you feel isolated and alone. You were used to alphas ordering you around and moving you from team to team for your nose and clear mind, you were a asset to have on certain teams where they needed a buffer that wasn’t an heat-prone omega. And despite your constant entourage of omegas and alphas, you never stopped flinching or wincing when someone’s scent became too strong, the musk burning your nose in an enclosed area like the mess hall, the training areas, or even public spaces. 
You preferred keeping to yourself, to alleviate the growing headache pounding at your head, to find a calmer corner of the base you were permanently moved to. You knew the people you worked with from prior assignments, a few times on month long covert operation and others on week long clandestine missions offshore, but you liked your silence when you could afford to find it. Even outside, their scents clung to your clothes, the strong smell of Price’s smoke and Ghost’s bourbon, the distinct notes of strength and dominance that screamed Alpha, Soap’s sweeter and softer citrus that you could pick up despite the scent blockers and Gaz’s gentle vanilla, a soothing calmness that reminded you that you weren’t the only buffer to the team, that you were the only beta.
“Found ye, Hound!” You liked the way Soap said your callsign, his accent coming into play to make it sound different —special. 
He swung his arm over your shoulder, pulling you to his side, your nose twitching from how close you were to his scent glands. You felt like he did it with intention, always finding a way to have you smelling like him and filling your mind with his scent, it was near addictive —so much so that you would’ve succumbed to it if you were an alpha, mind shutting off and body acting on it’s own volition. You wouldn’t blame anyone for it, Soap smelled so good, a sinful delight that people were deprived of, and when he wasn’t using the patches, it numbed your mind, made you slow and sloppy with your thoughts and acts. He knew the effect he had on you and he loved it from his constant hazing, flashing his gland in your face and drowning you in it whenever he could. Perhaps it was his claim on you, you never truly understood the whole dynamic, you were a buffer with a better nose, nothing more and nothing less.
“We were lookin’ fer ye,” he walked back in, still holding you in his grasp, “We’re going tae the pub. Thought ah’d come and get ye.”
They, on multiple occasions, had invited you to go drink with them, extending that olive branch your way with smiles and encouraging nods. You were tempted to accept, but you didn’t do well in enclosed and crowed spaces, so you declined over and over, but they never stopped asking you. It got to a point where you were waiting for them to stop asking, to tire themselves of befriended you, and yet, they never did, going so far as to pull you along despite your grumbling and exhaustion, promising a night of rest and relaxation at the pub. 
And fortunately, their words rang true, it was a blessing to your nose that the owners burned an overpowering but gentle incense that blocked all types of scents, a relief you rarely got. The only thing you could smell was the comforting scents of your new pack, the oil-packed burgers and fries, and the strong burn of alcohol, all thing that you didn’t mind as long as it came in moderation to your nose. After your first drunken and giggling visit to the pub with them, basking in their attention, Soap throwing himself over Ghost’s lap and grinning at you cheekily, Gaz leaning against your side, nuzzling the crook of your shoulder, Ghost’s big and warm hand grasping your thigh and Price looking on with so much pride. 
“The occasion?” You followed him blindly, blinking lazily at him.
“Yer third month with us,” he smiled widely, something carnal and wild, befitting more an alpha than the omega he was. Maybe that’s why he could easily pass as an alpha, with all his bravado and broadness, either way, he was a dangerous man alone, but as a Task Force, they were a menace.
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry
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burntoutdaydreamer · 4 months
Text
Questions I Ask My Beta Readers
"Did you like it?" just doesn't cut it when you're trying to get useful feedback, so here's some questions that get your reader really thinking about your work:
What are your general impressions after reading? How did you feel when the book ended? 
(For fantasy/sci-fi) What did you find most confusing about the world? What did you find the most interesting? What do you want to know more about? 
Were there any scenes that broke your suspension of disbelief? Which ones? Why?
Which chapters were the hardest to get through? Did you find yourself skimming the text at any point in the story? 
Which character was your favorite? Which was your least favorite? Why? (Note that this question is best when asking multiple readers. If one person really dislikes a character, it could be personal preference. If multiple people can't stand a character for the same reason.... well, that's a problem you need to fix. Unless, of course, you want your readers to hate that character. Just make sure that their hatred enhances the reading experience instead of ruining it).
Did you get any characters confused or mixed up? If so, did this make the story hard to follow?
What was the most suspenseful moment in the book? What was your favorite moment of the story? What was your least favorite moment in the story? Why?
Which setting in the book was clearest to you as you were reading it? Which setting was the most difficult to envision?
Did you feel there was a lot of info dumping at any point? If so, where?
How do you feel about the plot? Were there any parts that confused you or seemed nonsensical/ illogical?
Did you feel any part of the story was predictable? Do you have any predictions for the next book(s)? If so, what are they? (Again, another question that's best when asking multiple readers. Be aware of your audience here. Some people, especially those who read a lot, are really good at predicting where stories are going to go. If those people are able to guess what happens next, that might actually be a good thing, because it could indicate that your story is progressing logically. Too much predictability is a problem, but a little isn't bad. This question is just to make sure the plot twists/progression aren't painfully obvious to most readers).
What plot holes did you find in the story so far? 
Were you invested in the story? If so, at what point did you become invested? Did you lose this interest at any point? (The second point here is really good for determining whether you have a slow beginning. Sometimes readers might really like your story overall, but would not have gotten past the first few chapters if they were reading it for fun instead of as a favor for you. This happened to me last time I asked someone to read my work, and it made it clear how much of the beginning I needed to rewrite entirely).
Any other questions or comments? 
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tusks-and-claws · 10 months
Text
Cold Love/Hot Blood
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Miguel O’Hara x female reader
Summary: “Between teeth on a broken jaw/following a bloodtrail, frothing at the maw”
Miguel is struck with something that he’s never experienced before
Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, dubcon by way of pheromones, fingering, overstimulation, squirting, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, feral Miguel, biting, marking, blood drinking, paralytic venom
Wordcount: 3k
Ao3 link here
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You opened your eyes, blinking at the soft light from the bleary haze. Wincing, you raised your hand to your head. It didn't necessarily hurt, but it definitely felt wrong. What had happened? You were on a mission. That's right. And it had been going so well, until… until the anomaly villain threw something at you and Miguel. What was it? It had such an awful smell to it. And, where was Miguel?
You traversed the rubble of the abandoned building you were in. You couldn't see him. You shouted out for him.
"Here, I'm here," you heard him from the distance. Following his voice, you found him under some pieces of sheetrock from a collapsed wall. He was pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask.
"Geez, Miguel, are you alright?"
"Been better." His voice sounded strained. "Got a transmission from Jess that she's got hands on the anomaly. We'll meet her back at HQ. You go on ahead of me."
"What? No, we have to-" you started grabbing at the rubble to pull it off of him. He caught your arm before you could keep lifting.
"Please," he said, trying to meet your eyes from behind his mask. "Just go."
"What the hell is going on, Miguel? You're not… you're not acting right. We have to get you out of here."
He brought his hands up, holding his head in frustration. "Please, just do it. Don't make me beg."
"LYLA, please check him," you said, the avatar popping up and saluting you.
"No, don't-!" He tried to catch her in the air but she evaded him.
"His heart rate is really elevated but he seems okay otherwise. I think he's being dramatic. I don't detect any major injuries," she reported. You thanked her and she disappeared.
You crouched down to where he was. "What's going on, Miguel?" Your tone was serious.
He tried to hold your gaze for a moment until he swore and looked away. "That bomb that the anomaly threw… it affected me in a way that it clearly didn't affect anyone else, alright? Are you happy now?"
You furrowed your brow. "I don't understand."
He sighed, his breath shaking ever so slightly. "Itwasapheromonebomb." He said it so quickly and quietly.
"...What?"
"It was a pheromone bomb. Just leave me here so I can wait it out. This is so shocking humiliating- I," he sighed again. "Don't make me explain any further."
You blushed, not sure what to say. But you couldn't leave him like that, half-buried and vulnerable. "Can I at least help you up…? I promise I won't make fun of you. I just can't leave you defenseless like this."
He seethed for a moment, considering your offer. "...Fine. Grab this stupid sheetrock."
You did so, lifting it off of him with some effort. He did his best to stand up quickly. Despite his best, though, you could see the source of his embarrassment. He had a rock hard erection, and a particularly desperate one, by the looks of it. It laid upward, reaching towards his abdomen and pushing up against the tight fabric of his suit, straining. The size of him was nothing short of impressive.
You turned your gaze pointedly towards the ground as he moved away from the pile of rubble. Don't react don't react don't react. Could you pretend like you didn't notice? Even though not noticing was impossible, even from a single glance? You swallowed a lump in your throat, your head swimming with unprofessional thoughts.
Miguel turned from you, crouching down, hissing out a slow breath. "Fuck, it's getting worse," he whispered to himself, his body starting to tremble.
You took a step closer, reaching a hand out to his shoulder.
"Your proximity isn't… isn't helping." He admitted without turning around.
You stopped, silently moving your hand away from him. Touching him would surely make things harder.
"Miguel, I don't think waiting it out is an option for you. You just said it was getting worse."
He swore under his breath to himself. "I didn't mean for you to hear that. This is- shock it- this is completely foreign to me. Never been hit by anything like this before, it's s-so intense."
You winced at that, you'd never heard his voice so pained. But, what was the other option? You shivered just to think about it, your body reacting in ways that surprised you. How could you possibly propose helping him without making him think less of you? Would he even want help from you? Across from you, he was in turmoil, on his hands and knees trying desperately to control his breathing.
“Miguel… how can I help you?” It was a foolish question, a loaded question.
“You know the answer,” he replied from over his shoulder, his tone cold. He cried out again. “I- I can’t- can’t do that to you.”
“What if I’m offering?” You asked, a little too quickly, pushing down your fear and embarrassment for even thinking such things.
He turned further to meet your eyes, though you still couldn’t see his from behind the mask. You didn’t even need to see his eyes, his body language was communicating perfectly on their behalf. His muscles were pent up and quivering. Every breath rocked his massive shoulders. “Why?”
You didn’t think he’d ask that question. You searched your brain for an answer. “Because it isn’t your fault. And I respect you enough that this won’t change my mind.”
His thoughts seemed to be diverting to his baser instincts, his voice becoming a growl. “Need you… to be sure. Don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”
“I’m sure,” you said.
In no time at all, he pounced, bringing you to the ground. He was on top of you, his taloned fingers caging in your wrists against the cracked concrete of the floor, your arms above your head. You landed with your legs apart and with him between them, his hips desperately close to yours. Your eyes widened at his feral energy, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. He brought his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling. His exhale was shaky. “You smell so good… always smelled so good.”
Your body grew hot upon hearing that. Always? Had he thought about you in that way before? You smiled to yourself as he nuzzled the nose of his masked face into your neck, his hot breath coming through and ghosting over your skin. You could feel his huge frame shaking around you. He brought his hips down to your pelvis, seemingly being as cautious as possible as he began to grind his hardened length against you. His breath quickened at the contact, and he met you again with fervor, stimulating himself on you. His cock was unbelievably hard and hot, the temperature of him coming through both of your suits to meet your skin and overwhelm you. The feeling of him against you was sending shivers down your spine, the pleasant pressure made even sweeter by the promise of more to come. He positioned himself on top of you in such a way that each rhythmic, grinding rock found your clit and teased it with clothed contact.
You moaned lightly, the sound of it causing him to growl into your neck. You lifted your hips up, meeting him with the same tempo so he could grind into you more thoroughly, your bodies now writhing in tandem. His heavy breathing became panting. "Need to… need to touch you." He picked up his head and released your wrists, one hand steadying himself on the concrete, the other reaching down eagerly.
You got the memo, quickly slipping the pants of your suit down and throwing them aside so he wouldn't rip them off for you. You had at least enough hindsight to know you couldn't go back to HQ looking so disheveled. He dismissed the gloves of his suit and retracted his talons as his fingers found you immediately, honing in on the wet heat of your sex. Two plunged inside as he loomed above you, his muscles shaking again as he wet his fingers with your arousal. You shook right alongside him, your reaction bodily, as your back arched and your legs closed instinctively to hold his hand in place and not let him go. His fingers hooked inside of you, already relentless.
"Soaked," he whispered, almost to himself. The word resonated with a deep, animalistic hunger. Without removing his fingers from your warmth, he sat back on his knees and used his free hand to pry your legs open. "Need to see," he said. He watched the length of his fingers disappear over and over. The large hand that kept your legs wide was squeezing the soft flesh of your inner thigh, and he seemed fixated on the way it was yielding to his rough touches. Nearly everyone was small compared to Miguel, but you… you were different. He had his hands on you, inside of you, the comparison was tangible. You were small, soft, and his. His mind swam with how he would take you, how he would sheath himself inside of you until he bottomed out, how he would desperately fill you with his hot cum and hold your hips up to keep any precious drops from leaking out. It took everything in him to not reach down and start rubbing his impatient cock through his suit, but his fevered brain convinced him to keep his free hand on your leg so he could watch you fall apart from his fingers alone.
He was delirious as your walls started to spasm around his fingers, white hot pleasure pooling in your core, threatening to overflow as he kept up his efforts. The constriction of your muscles bolstered him, and he began to go faster and harder, starting to overstimulate you. You threw your head back, hands wildly trying to grasp at something on the concrete floor but coming up short. He removed his hand from your throbbing sex to start teasing your clit with abandon, and you moaned as your body lifted up off the floor.
"H-holy shit, Miguel," you gasped out. "It's- it's so much."
His hand moved so fast against your swollen clit that you could hardly think. The feeling was electric, and your orgasm was dangerously close. Your legs started to shake and tried to close around him again, but he kept them forced open as he intently watched, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. You came and it utterly racked you, your body shuddering as you cried out, hot liquid spewing from you and drenching Miguel's hand and forearm. You squirted on him, because of him. You thought you should be embarrassed, but he gave you no opportunity.
As your head just started to clear, he recalled his mask into the neck of his suit. You quietly gasped at unexpectedly seeing his face. So strong, angular, and handsome. His red eyes looked wild, his mouth was open, his fangs fully extended. He studied his hand, turning it over so the mess you made could catch the light. As it started to dry down on him, he brought the two fingers that had been inside of you up to his mouth, and he licked them both clean. You gaped at him, almost fully unable to process what was happening.
When he was finished, he turned his gaze from his fingers and back onto you, as you sat up on your elbows to watch him. You saw that his cock was still as hard as ever, still pushing to break free. As if reading your mind, he recalled that part of his suit too as he grabbed your legs and yanked you toward him. He rested his cock over your abdomen, once again reveling in just how much bigger than you he was. The hot weight of his manhood on your skin set you ablaze once more and you eagerly awaited him. He thrusted but without penetrating you, sliding himself over you and wetting his cock on your cum. His exhales quaked with anticipation until he could wait no longer. Even on his knees, he towered over you, and so he needed to tilt your hips up further so your entrance could meet the head of his leaking cock. He shifted his grip to your waist, holding firm as you steadied yourself on your elbows and looked to him with bated breath.
He slowly pushed his hips into you, his cock sinking deep into your pussy. The steady penetration had you reeling. You needed to feel him, all of him. Every inch, all at once. It felt like it took ages for him to finally reach the hilt, but when he did, he waited inside of you for a brief, merciful moment. You basked in the feeling of being so full, so complete. He began to pull himself out of you, leaving you cold and empty for a split second until he slammed his entire length back into you, repeating and repeating at an unwavering pace.
Each powerful thrust reached so deep inside of you that it was nearly painful. Immediately, the head of his cock found your cervix and was hitting it with each hard pump that Miguel delivered. Your eyelids grew heavy as your eyes began to roll back towards your skull. His onslaught was so thorough, every smack of his hips against your pelvis reverberating through every inch of your body. The overstimulation of when he fingerfucked you had carried over, and you were already close to losing control all over again. He felt it too, as he growled in response to your pulsating walls.
"This cunt…." He snarled through his fangs. "This cunt is mine."
"Yours," you moaned, meeting his words a little too quickly.
"Going to mark you… so everyone knows."
"Mark me, Miguel." You agreed, not quite realizing what he meant. He started to lay you down onto the ground without removing himself from you, continuing to fuck you in missionary as he brought his face down to the crook of your neck. Your pulse quickened with excitement. He opened his mouth, his breath making your skin somehow even warmer. You wished that you could've seen the flash of his fangs before what came next.
He bit down on you, hard, and you could feel the course of his venom like molten lava through your veins. When the searing heat reached its crest, a soothing wash of warmth followed in its wake, leaving your muscles loosened and relaxed. Blood started to drip down your shoulder, the wet trickle quickly cooling as it made contact with the atmosphere. Miguel stayed latched to you as his tongue met your skin, lapping at the red stream, determined to consume it all.
You submitted to him fully, allowing him to position you how he saw fit so he could fulfill his feral need. His strong hands snaked around your torso to your back, lifting you up with him as he rocked back onto his knees. He helped you to swing your legs around his slim waist and to drape your arms over his huge shoulders. You let your face settle against his neck, the clean musky smell of him overwhelming your senses. His hands found your hips and he effortlessly lifted you up and down on his cock, fucking himself with your pussy like you weighed nothing at all. You moaned into him as you clenched around his cock, your limp body succumbing to the overpowering feeling of him. You started to shudder as your orgasm claimed you with a white-knuckled grip. You whined into Miguel's neck as it hit you with shock after shock, your vision going spotty while your cunt tightened around him.  
He couldn't hold it any longer, and his cock jerked inside of you as he came. You were still getting hit with aftershocks of your own climax, your muscles bearing down to milk every drop of cum that he filled you with. He held you closer and he thrusted himself as far into you as he possibly could, instinctively trying to make sure as little seed would have the chance to leak out of you as possible.
Your muscle control started to slowly come back to you as you and Miguel were chest-to-chest, both of you sweating and heaving. You weakly raised your arms so your hands could tangle with the hair at the nape of his neck. You lingered there for a bit, his strong arms holding you in the place as you played with soft locks of chocolate hair. You finally leaned back to see clarity slowly returning to Miguel's expression, and he looked utterly mortified. He held your gaze as he turned red, removing one hand from your body so he could cover his face.
"Oh my God," he whispered. "What the shock came over me?"
You were struck with sudden fear. "Do you… not remember?" The fact that he was still buried inside you should've been a dead giveaway.
"No, I do," he said, nervously. "I remember getting hit with that stupid bomb, and you helping me, then me wanting to split you in half."
You couldn't help but giggle at that.
"I tried to make sure I wasn't too rough with you. I was still in there, the whole time," he said, taking his hand away from his face to smooth your hair. He stopped when he reached your neck, seeing the bite marks he left. "Guess I didn't do all that well, did I?"
"It's fine. I can take it."
"Clearly," he said, raising his eyebrows, mildly impressed. "Thank you. I… don't know what I would have gone through if you hadn't been so… generous. But… for God’s sake, let’s not go around telling people what happened. We have reputations.”
You agreed, the secret safe between the two of you, the puncture wounds on your neck a silent souvenir.
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soulidarity · 1 month
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pearly tears
rafayel x reader / mc | 384 words | hurt/comfort
after rafayel wakes up from a nightmare, he cant find MC
His hand felt heavy, rapidly moving against the weight of the water. Fighting an invisible force. For what? He wasn't sure. He just felt a sharp pain and anguish in his chest as he went against the tide.
Then he saw her. Slowly descending into the depths of the sea. Her eyes closed, mouth open. He reached out to her, she was almost in his hold when his vision was covered by sea foam.
Rafayel jolted awake. Sweat dripping from his forehead as he took in his surroundings. Right. He wasn't in the water, he was in his bedroom. The covers were sticking to him, a bit of the moon light creeping in from the courtains and his beloved was sleeping right next to him. He turned to see her.
Only to find an empty space.
The artist's breath quickened, his hand gripping the sheets that were supposed to be enveloping her. He looked around rapidly, searching for her. It was hard to tell what was going on now, his senses heightened yet he felt numb. His eyes observing but his vision was clouded. He didnt hear the bathroom door open.
Suddenly arms wrapped around him, holding him tight.
"Im here"
He turned around, cupping her cheecks in his hands to make sure she was real. His love wasn't dead. She was there. Rafayel burst into tears while she leaned into his touch. Her hand made its way to wipe them away as her facial expression changed to one of wonder.
"You cry pearls, how lovely"
Everytime she spoke it felt as if he was in a trance, her gentle voice a contrast to his desperate and anxious demeanor. But the comment only made him cry harder, the pearls growing in size. Quickly, the bed was covered in the shiny and soft object. The sound of them rolling off and hitting the floor was all that could be heard apart from the man's sobs.
Slowly, with her affection he started to calm down. Slim hands playing with his hair as soft lips kissed his jawline.
He moved to her lap, head in the crook of her neck as his arms tightened around her. The pearls had stopped flowing.
"Please... dont leave me..."
She smiled as she patted his back.
"Wouldnt even dream of it"
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shmalk · 11 days
Text
141 is filled with alphas, not a single omega in sight. there are a few betas, but they're either low-ranking or transfers that were never going to last.
like you! (beta!reader) who works at reception and takes calls, scans badges and is the first point of contact for the task force.
none of them know your name, none of them even speak to you - maybe price, when you transfer a call to him, he'll mumble a thank you. or even laswell, when you bring her a coffee.
it's nothing, really, you don't mind.
only, one day, a totally normal friday, you've done the exact same style in your hair you always have, and you're wearing more clothes than you were yesterday.
price wants a coffee, sure- you make it, just the way he likes, and head towards his office. you knock, and wait a few seconds until you hear 'come in.'
the office is silent, it usually is - but this time there's more than just price inside.
they're finishing up just as you enter, soap and gaz sitting in front of the desk whilst ghost leant against the back wall.
"my apologies, captain." your voice isn't exactly quiet - why should it be, you've done nothing wrong, but its still respectful. price just nods as you place the cup down on his desk.
"thanks, that's all." he dismisses everyone in the room, and you wait for the boys to file out before you do, soap and gaz both giving you a cheeky smile.
ghost is the one to hold open the door, standing just adjacent to the doorway with his arm sprawled against it. its a heavy door, and you swallow as you pass him.
"thank you," you all but mumble out as you rush past him - straight into the break room.
you can't help but rant about the situation to your roommate whilst you're packing up your things, your phone tucked between your jaw and shoulder.
"i mean- he held the door open for me and i couldn't even look him in the eye to say thank you!" you stress, throwing your bag into your passenger seat before leaning back against your car. "god, all i wan't right now is a plate of sushi and some boba."
"too bad its pizza night, dweeb."
"thats not fair! i could loose my job, i should be allowed to eat my comfort food when im stressed out."
you stress about it over the whole weekend, and when you return back to work on monday you try to act as casual as possible. of course, you don't see ghost - price doesn't order a coffee, and youre break time comes around quicker than you expected.
you had brought- oh, theres- your favourite sushi, and a boba drink sitting where your food was supposed to be. in somewhat messy hand writing, on a small piece of paper, theres your name.
signed ' s. riley. '
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i am a sucker for sweet lil moments like this !!
in my head i think that simon would like a beta, or an alpha, but in this lil snippet (which is CERTAINLY getting turned into a fic) he's big and broad and gets worried when he's with alphas because they can't think straight, he tells them what to do and he does it.
but you? you dont react to his scent or chase him down to get him to court you - so, of fource, he courts you. <3
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hoonvrs · 5 months
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CHILD OF DIVORCE — l. heeseung
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PAIRING heeseung × fmr
DESC. yours and heeseungs breakup through the eyes of nishimura riki
GENRE angst, 3rd party perspective
WARNING mutual breakup, mention of parental issues, riki has attachment issues, he’s also irrational but aren’t we all
W. COUNT 0.8k
S. NOTES why did i have so much fun writing this
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to say riki considered you and heeseung his parents was an understatement.
he boy genuinely believed you were. so it's safe to say that when his heeseung hyung ( read: dad ) came home to their apartment late to their weekly boys' night and dropped the news, he was devastated.
“me and y/n broke up.“
riki could feel his whole world collapse, suddenly feeling ten again when his parents sat him down to tell him that his mum and dad were getting a divorce and dad was going to be moving back to his old city.
in hindsight, he should’ve consoled his hyung who didn’t look like he had just broken it off with his girlfriend of four years and the woman everyone believed he’d marry one day. he should've gone up to him like a good friend and given him a few words of comfort — maybe even a hug.
but instead, he felt anger. it was selfish, but he couldn’t realise his irrationality over the splitting feeling in his chest, and heeseung's reaction — or lack thereof — didn’t help but wedge a nail in the crack and hammer it down.
he couldn’t make out what the rest of their friends were saying, feeling all his senses suddenly muffle, giving his emotions nowhere to go but out, “what do you mean you broke up.”
the room suddenly felt colder. all their friends stopped talking and froze their gazes on him. seeing sunghoon from his peripheral, sending him a questioning look, but his vision tunnelled on the eldest, who was still standing near the entrance. “you can’t just break up, not now.”
confusion settled on the elder's face, overtly not expecting this reaction from him, “what do you mean i can't? it's my relationship, and we both ended it.”
riki was starting to feel antagonised, seeing faces look back and forth between him and the other, so he stood up in an attempt to size himself up, refusing to see the irrationality of his point. he felt like heeseung was being inconsiderate by breaking up something riki relied on without thinking of the others who'd be affected outside of the relationship.
everyone in their friend group was aware of his abnormal attachments, evident in the shirt he refuses to throw away because it was his father's, even if the fabric had more holes than not, or the two sizes too big shoes his sister gifted him, insisting he would ‘grow into them’ and now yours and heeseung's relationship.
healthy relationships weren't the norm in his life growing up, so by default, riki was hostile and withdrawn towards you the first few times heeseung introduced you as his new girlfriend. reminding himself constantly at the back of his mind that all relationships must come to an end and with every problem heeseung brought home, he was convinced it was near.
however, he must have underestimated you. one year became two, then four, and riki had become accustomed to his life with you. finding himself excited every time you’d come over whenever he was around because you had always seemed to favour him slightly, giving him the best meat cuts whenever you’d eat out together, or saving him the corner of the brownie because you knew it was his favourite part.
maybe it was silly to let you grow a home into the hole in his heart that was carved by his mother, seeking maternal comforts from you and allowing you to become a constant in his life.
but then again, all relationships have an end but riki wasn’t ready to let this one go. “so what? that’s it? you’re just going to end it here after everything?”
“look, it was a mutual breakup. we both just don't feel the same as we did before, so we broke it off like adults. i wish her all the best, just not with me.”
the split started to spread throughout his whole body, feeling his knees start to weaken under the weight of his emotions. when he started to feel his throat clog up and his eyes start to burn, he quickly made his escape, pushing past his hyung making sure to knock their shoulder on his way out to show he wasn't happy with the new change.
he could hear them discussing what happened after slamming his bedroom door, the thin walls leaving no word left unheard, drilling each question into his mind.
maybe then he should’ve left and apologised for his outburst, but grief is a funny feeling.
even though the relationship wasn’t his and never was to begin with, riki had gotten too comfortable living vicariously through you, and now he wanted someone to take responsibility for feelings only he could be blamed for.
but that’s another thing about grief. there’s always someone you want to pin the blame on. someone who caused this emotion to spiral and settle at the pit of his stomach without anywhere else to go leaving it to make itself home in his body.
and it wasn’t going to be him.
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perm taglist @mesopret @whoschr ​@haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @boyfhee @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly @seongclb @dammit-jjk @flwrshee @produmads ​@teddywonss @aleiouvre @dneltrise @aleiouvre @nyxvrse @yohanabanana @whois-alexis @sngvhs @tinyegg @sserafimez @satsuri3su @yuemvi @chirokookie @idk-tbh777 @s00buwu
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glorysbox · 5 months
Note
breeding w di Leon ??????????😩😩
leon x afab!reader
wc: 1.8k
tags: explicitly 18+, breeding obvs, pregnancy mention, reader has breasts
“I’m getting old.” Leon mutters, pausing momentarily to sip at his mug full of coffee that you’d brewed for him a few moments earlier. You raise an eyebrow at this; head turning ever so slightly to meet his gaze. It’s been a few weeks since he’d been on the mission to Alcatraz. There’s been a personality shift that’s come over him in this time—at first, you just chalked it up to self-reflection from a near death experience.
Maybe there’s something else to it.
“You keep saying that,” you note, attention back on the kitchen counter as you prepare breakfast for the both of you. “You’re not.”
“I am. You can’t deny it. And you know, well…” he sighs, setting the mug down. “I’ve been thinking about some things. About us.”
This gets your attention. You turn fully to face him now.
He stands, advancing towards you, trapping you in between his body and the counter behind you. Leon’s lips are on yours nearly immediately—and while you appreciate the gesture and the taste of hazelnut coffee creamer that lingers in his mouth, you’re feeling a bit…
Nervous.
Your nerves quickly shift into a feeling of something else, the sensation of Leon’s hands squeezing on your waist quickening your heartbeat—that familiar aching between your thighs reddening your face at his touch. His eyes are on you as you part, examining the pretty slopes and curves of your face—but your nerves quickly shift back to that feeling of uncertainty.
“I love you,” he starts, hands furthering up your torso. One hand runs over the curve of your stomach, shifting back to the fat of your hip. “And I’ve been thinking about just how good you’d look pregnant.”
Your breath comes out in slight pants at the feeling of his hands tracing over the contour of your body. Leon leans in, placing feather-light kisses over the soft skin of your neck—the feeling of his lips and the prickle of his stubble admittedly making your knees weak. He smells good, like home; like aftershave and cologne from the night before when he’d fallen asleep with his arms around you.
His hands snake up the long shirt that you’re wearing—one of his that you’d fished from his dresser ages ago—traveling from your waist up to cup your breasts. His tongue runs over the shell of your ear, warm breath fanning over the sensitive feel of your skin. You shudder.
“Think about it. Me, you, a family…” Leon’s tone is hushed as he speaks in your ear, thumb toying at the sensitive peaks of your nipple. You feel him smile as he places a kiss on your temple, something you can hardly focus on from the feel of his hand caressing your breasts. “Don’t you want that?”
“I—” Your breath hitches at the feeling of deft fingertips running along the now sodden cotton of your panties, thighs shifting and molding around the shape of his hand between your thighs. “I… yes, of course. I mean, I’ve thought about it, but…”
“But?” He questions, tugging the wet fabric aside enough for his fingers to drag along your sticky folds. Leon’s breath fans on your neck, his cock stiff against the inside of your thigh. It’s thick and hard and throbbing and has your walls clenching around nothing—needy from just the idea of him being inside of you.
“But…” Your voice is low, teetering out pathetically at the feeling of the pad of his thumb toying with your clit. His movements are slow and methodical, circling—almost too much while simultaneously being not enough. “Your job, and…”
The way your bottom lip catches in your teeth makes him want to kiss you—and fill you with his cum—all the more. It’s been plaguing his thoughts ever since Alcatraz.
“We can work that out,” he mumbles, finger hovering around your entrance, collecting the arousal that seeps from you in anticipation. Your nails dig into the muscle of his forearm, head hanging low at the feeling of the digit threatening to breach inside of you. It’s too much. But not enough. “Work’s been slowing down. Doubt that they’d want to keep an old man like me out on the field too long anyway.”
You go to speak—you want to scold him for calling himself old, even though it’s undeniably true—but you’re cut off by the sound of your own whine at the feeling of his finger pushing its way inside of you.
He only goes as far as the first knuckle… but the gasp that falls from your lips coupled with a low moan has him a bit too eager to hear more from you. Leon inserts a second finger, the pad of his thumb pressing a fleeting amount of pressure on the sensitive bud of your clit. He’s patient as he finger-fucks you, scissoring you open with methodical movements that have your knees weak and your face hot.
You’re too busy whining his name to realize the way he’s looking at you.
Too needy to notice the way his cock throbs at the feeling of your wetness around his fingers; too drunk on his touch to see the way that his blue eyes are trained so intently on the sight of his fingers slipping out of you and pushing their way back inside. He slides his fingers out of you, marveling at the strings of sticky arousal that cling to them.
“So,” he pauses momentarily—brings his fingers to his tongue—and wraps his lips around them. “Did I convince you?”
You nod.
It’s not long before you feel the coldness of his fingers—wet from you and from his own mouth—hooking along the lace hem of your underwear to tug them down. The cotton pools at your ankles.
“You’re fucking me on the counter?” The question falls from your lips breathlessly; the feeling of his hand squeezing at the fat of your ass eliciting more noise from you than you’d be willing to admit.
“Sure am,” he mutters, the ghost of a smirk on his lips as he pulls the fabric of his pants down just enough to free his cock. “Don’t worry. We’ll have plenty of time to make up for this. I intend on—“
He hoists you up properly, arm keeping you suspended in the air, eyes on the slick sticky mess that’s littered your thighs. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist. The head of his cock prods at your entrance—leaking precum enough to leave you wondering if he’d left a sticky stain on the cotton of his gray boxers.
“—stuffing you full of cum everyday until I see a positive test.”
Something tells you that he plans to make good on his promise.
He slides into you slowly; the pace agonizing as his cock stretches and splits you open—your walls shaping around his size, nails digging further into the skin of his arm. You shudder at the sound of his voice in your ear; low and needy and whiny for the feeling of the warmth of your walls instinctively gripping around his shaft.
“Leon,” he audibly groans at the sound of his name from your lips—how breathless and pretty and needy you sound for him. “Please, I—“
His fingers leave indents in the skin of your ass, his hips pressing into you so agonizingly slow to the point where you’re beginning to ache from the feeling of needing him so desperately.
“Come on,” Leon buries himself to the hilt—reveling at the feeling of the softness of your body against his. The granite edge of the counter digs at your back; a non-issue considering the fact that you’re struggling to keep your composure at the feeling of Leon balls deep inside of you. “You can take it.”
You nod.
Crescent moon shaped indentations are left on the muscle of his back, red and angry—unnoticed by the feeling of him plunging into you; his hips flush against yours with each slip of his cock inside of you. Sticky strings of arousal begin to line down his thighs—the creamy ring pooling at the base of his cock fueling the pathetic whimpers that slip from your and his lips.
Leon roughly fucks into you, pace unforgiving as your insides uncontrollably quiver and squeeze around him. You pray that no one can hear the both of you through the opened window of your kitchen—the sound of his balls slapping against your skin entirely too loud—coupled with the noisy moans that seep from your lips and the low grunts that seep from his. You can hardly tell the color of his eyes; his pupils blown so wide that you’d mistake them for brown if you weren’t aware they were blue.
He leans forward—hips still snapping against your own—and presses his lips against your own. It’s uncoordinated. It’s needy. It’s wet and sloppy as he struggles to focus on the fact that he’s supposed to be kissing you when you feel so good and tight and wet and warm around him.
He greedily tongues at your lips and greedily ruts into your pussy, movements bordering on feral at the feeling of you and the thought of stuffing you with his cum. The pretty noises that fall from your mouth drive him forward, lips still on your own as he swallows every semblance of a mewl that you make from the feeling of his cock dragging along your walls.
Leon pulls away for a moment—lips reattaching to your neck, trailing to your throat, savoring the taste of your skin. He’s losing himself. Losing himself to the overwhelming urge to put a baby in you; to the idea of your body softening and breasts swelling and hips widening—to the idea of just how perfect you’d look with his kid in you.
You squeal at the feeling of the pad of his thumb on your clit, thighs clenching and trembling and shaking around his waist—nails digging further into the meat of his back as his relentless pace falters and rhythm stutters towards sloppiness. Leon coaxes you further towards your orgasm, motion of his thumbs pulling an orgasm from your swollen, throbbing clit; the pulsating of your walls pulling him deeper into you and effectively milking his cock.
The sight of you—back arching, legs trembling, jaw slack, body spasming—it’s too much. His cock twitches, his hips sputter; his grip on you borders on pain—and you can’t do anything but take it. You feel it before you realize it. You feel the slight quiver of his body against yours. You feel his lips on your throat, tongue pressing on the rapid pulsing of the vein on your neck. You feel the warm, sticky ropes of his cum that he’d stuffed in you with no shame.
He places slow kisses along your jawline—cock still stuffed in you, plugging his cum inside—and again, you feel the ghost of a smile on his lips.
“Mm.” Leon’s voice is barely audible as he mutters in your ear. “S’ not enough. Let me give you some more.”
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soaps-mohawk · 13 days
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 12: Fire In My Veins
Summary: Your heat begins. Luckily you have a good alpha to take care of you during your most vulnerable time. 
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, knotting, spanking (it’s like once), fluids so many fluids, heat cycles, mating cycles, lots of talk of breeding and mating, biting, brief mention of blood, this is gross y’all, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff
A/N: It was quite the ordeal, this chapter, and it's come a long way from when I first wrote it between Sunday and Monday this week. It's pretty much just smut so enjoy!!
The smut starts after the first scene and goes to the end, so only read up to the first green line if you don’t want the smut. You’re not missing much, just Price biting the reader to claim her, but I’ll talk more about that in the next chapter.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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“You alright, love?” 
You look up from where you had been staring at the floor, suddenly pulled back into the real world by Gaz’s voice. He had been organizing the nutrient bars and electrolyte bottles in your room while you sat and dissociated to the sound of rustling paper bags. 
You stare at his furrowed brows and worried eyes for a moment before averting your gaze with a nod. “Yeah.” 
The carpet under your feet has never looked quite so interesting before.
Gaz moves to sit next to you on the bed, sinking down onto the mattress with a sigh. “Nervous?” 
You nod in response, clutching the strawberry pillow in your arms tighter against your chest. 
“You’ll be alright.” Gaz says, his hand warm as it presses against your back. “I’m gonna take good care of you, yeah? Both you and Price. I’ll be right outside that door, and I’ll be in and out too. Dr. Keller’s ready in case something happens, but I don’t think anything will.” He wraps his arm around you, pulling you close against him. “You’re in good hands.” 
“There’s no going back after this.” You say, leaning into his side. 
“No, I don’t think any of us would want to anyway.” He smiles down at your surprised face. “What? I thought that was obvious. We all want you as part of our pack. You are part of the pack already, at least in every way but officially. None of us would trade you for anything.”
Your eyes fill with tears at his words. You know it’s just the stress and the hormones and the impending heat that could start at any time, but his words reach some deep part of you that was worried that they were all faking, that they all actually hated you. His words calm you a bit, easing away that stress and fear that you’ve been carrying for the last almost six weeks. 
“Come now, none of that.” Gaz says, wiping the tear that trails down your cheek. “Can’t afford getting dehydrated now.” 
You can’t help but laugh, even though you know he’s right. You’ve had so much liquid over the last couple days you feel as though you might burst at any second. It was necessary, considering the amount of fluid you were about to lose. 
Gaz leans down, kissing all over your face. You giggle, falling back on your bed to try and escape, but he follows you, continuing to plant little kisses all over your face and neck. 
“Kyle!” You shriek, giggling as his kisses tickle your skin. 
He pauses, leaning up so you’re eye to eye, a grin on his face. “You called me Kyle.” 
“That is your name, isn’t it?” You say, blinking up at him. 
“Yeah.” He chuckles. “You can call me Kyle as much as you’d like, love.” He says as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours.
You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him in place as you kiss him back. His arm snakes beneath you, pressing you tightly against his chest. He groans quietly into your lips, body taught against yours. You can feel every part of him, the muscles under his shirt, the strength of his thighs. Your head is spinning, and you know it’s mostly due to your impending heat. 
You let out a quiet whine as his lips leave yours, trailing down your neck to your shoulder. He leaves a scalding kiss over your scent gland, nipping playfully at the sensitive skin. 
“Can’t wait to see the mark,” He murmurs against your skin, a quiet whimper leaving your lips as your body begins to warm a little. “When Price claims you, makes you his.” 
“Fuck.” You breathe, a shudder running through your whole body. 
Kyle chuckles, sucking a mark on your collarbone. “You won’t be just his, though, huh? Gonna be ours.” 
You let out a whine at his words, your fingers trailing up the back of his neck. He lets out a quiet groan, his body shuddering as you tease the sensitive skin. You feel lightheaded and dizzy from the rapidly shifting hormones of your pre-heat. You’re very close to the start. Any day now you could wake in a sweat with an insatiable ache between your thighs. You're like a ticking time bomb, but neither of the demolition experts you now live with can disarm you. 
If only it could be so easy. 
Kyle presses one last kiss to your lips before he pulls back, smiling down at you. “You’ll be alright. I’ll make sure of it.” 
You can’t help but believe him, especially with those big brown eyes staring down at you. 
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It’s sweltering. A fire has started beneath your skin, flames licking your veins, your very cells scorching in the fiery inferno that has overtaken you. An arid desert has bloomed in your mouth, your tongue heavy and sticky. Sweat has slicked your skin, consciousness only bringing awareness to the dampness of your sheets and pajamas. 
It also brings awareness to the pain. 
There’s an intense ache between your legs, your pelvis cramping. Slick has coated your thighs, soaking through your pajama pants, the fabric clinging to your skin. It’s too much, the sensations of your pajamas and the weight of the blankets nearly driving you to insanity. You need to be bare. It’s too hot and the drag of the fabric across your skin makes you want to cry. 
Not to mention the intense need burning through you. 
The mattress protector crinkles as you shift on the bed, every movement taking an excess amount of energy as you attempt to tug your shirt off with fumbling fingers. It’s like you’re moving in slow motion, your arms heavy and sluggish as you peel the fabric from your sticky skin, letting it fall to the floor. You lay there exhausted, body twitching as your temperature begins to spike. You blindly reach out, fingers trembling as they grasp at your phone. Your eyes are bleary as you blink rapidly at the too bright screen. You fumble with clumsy fingers on the screen, dialing the first number you see, not caring who it is.
“Hello?” 
You let out a quiet whine at the rough voice, thick with sleep. You can’t get your mouth to move, to form any words as you lay there pathetically, half undressed and soaked in sweat and slick. There’s an ache between your thighs, pulsing in time with your heart. Your free hand fumbles with your waistband, desperate to try and get your pants down, to remove the feeling of your underwear sticking to your slick folds. 
“Help.” You manage a single word, not even sure it was intelligible. You let out a frustrated whimper, your body not cooperating to lift your hips so you can pull down your pants. 
A moment of silence passes before you get a response. “Fuck, be right there, love.” 
The line clicks, and a moment later a door is opening down the hall. You’re silently grateful you hadn’t locked your door last night, as there was no way you would be able to get out of bed and make it across the floor. It opens just enough for the figure to slip in before he closes it, not wanting to let your scent freely flow down the hallway. 
The light of the lamp on your nightstand accosts your eyes as it’s turned on, making you squint. You don’t miss the way Kyle’s nose crinkles for a moment as he catches the sickly sweet, overwhelming aroma of your scent as it pours from your body. His hand is cool against your forehead as he brushes the stray strands of hair sticking to your skin back. Johnny had braided it last night at least to try and keep it out of the way. 
“Easy.” He says quietly, shushing you as you whimper in need. 
You let out a whine as Kyle pushes the blankets out of the way. You’re incapable of caring that you’re half naked in front of him for the first time, and he pays it no mind. You tug uselessly at your pajama pants again, letting out a frustrated whine as you fail to shimmy them down your legs again. Kyle bats your hands away, slipping his fingers under the waistband and tugging the pants down your legs. You sigh in relief as the fabric is pulled away from your skin, a shiver running through you as the cool air hits your slicked folds. 
Kyle gathers your clothes, adding them into the bag of things that would need to be washed as soon as your heat is over before he returns to your side. 
“I need you to drink something for me, then I’ll go get Price, alright?” He says, kneeling down next to the bed as he grabs the electrolyte drink from your nightstand. 
You flop against his chest as he slips an arm around you, helping prop you up. Your face presses into his neck, inhaling deeply. A whine of disappointment leaves your lips as you realize he’s not what you need, your omega dissatisfied with the scent of beta emanating from him. 
“I know.” He says, easing you away from his neck. “Just drink this first and then you can have your alpha.” 
“Alpha.” You whimper, leaning against Kyle’s chest. 
He helps you drink some of the sweet liquid, and you gulp it down, relieved as it eases some of the dryness in your mouth. He lets you drink half of the bottle before he pulls it away, setting it on the nightstand. 
“Good girl.” He praises you, helping you lay back down against your pillow. “I’ll go get Price. I’ll get your alpha.” 
You hum contently at the promise of what’s coming, your omega practically screaming for her alpha, for some relief. 
Kyle slips back out the door, your head buzzing as the intense arousal and need burning within you gets stronger. Your pussy is pulsing, slick dribbling out of you as the need to mate takes over. The primordial instinct to reproduce is strong, your omega clawing at your mind, screaming to be bred, screaming to be bred, to carry pups. You need your alpha. You need his knot. 
You roll onto your stomach, pressing your hips into the mattress. You need something, anything to ease the aching pulse in your body. You begin to rut against the sheets, dragging your clit against the rough fabric. You let out a quiet whine as the friction sends pleasure shooting through you, a slight relief from the pain of your intense arousal. 
The door opens, your head shooting up as the heavy scent of alpha washes over you. Your eyes dilate, a shudder traveling from your head to your toes as the familiar scent of damp earth laced with the musk of arousal invades your senses. You let out another whine as John approaches the bed, your hips still rutting desperately against the sheets. You look utterly ruined, wide eyed and sweat-slicked, panting like an animal in heat. 
You are an animal in heat. 
“Look at you.” John mumbles, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. He stands over you, watching the desperate movements of your hips for a moment. “Needy little thing.” He teases, setting his phone on your nightstand before tugging his shirt over his head. 
You watch as every inch of skin is revealed to you, lips parting as you take him in. The strength of his muscles, the softness of his stomach. You want to lick every inch of him. You want to roll around in his scent, cover yourself in his essence, mark every part of your body with him. 
You arch into his touch as he drags a hand down your back, rough fingers following the line of your spine. You press your ass into his hand as he passes over it, fingers tugging your thighs apart. He groans again as a wave of your thick, sweet scent washes over him. 
“Let me see you.” He growls, sweatpants hitting the floor. 
You hear him, but you’re too busy staring at him in awe. More slick slips out of you at the sight of his cock, red and angry and painfully hard already. You can almost swear it’s pulsing in time with your pussy. A harsh gasp is pulled from your throat as he brings his hand down across your ass, the sound of skin striking skin loud enough to pull you back to reality. 
“I said, present for your alpha.” He says, the rough rumble of his inner alpha coating the edges of his voice. 
You whimper in response, scrambling up onto your hands and knees like a good omega for him as he kneels on the bed behind you.  
“Good girl.” He rumbles, a pleased whine leaving your lips at his praise. 
You push back into his hands as he cups your ass, his hand smoothing over the burning spot on the cheek he’d slapped. You can’t feel the pain from it, far too lost in your heat-riddled brain to register anything but the need pulsing between your thighs and the alpha staring at your soaked pussy. Thumbs part your folds, slick dribbling onto the sheets as he stares at your pussy. 
“So fucking slick for me.” He groans, dragging a thumb along your slit. 
“For you alpha!” You gasp, pressing back harder against his hands. 
A low growl rumbles in his chest as he drags his thumb through your folds again, pressing the digit against your clit. Your gasp is broken by a whimper, your clit already sensitive from you humping against your bed like a needy pup. You bend your top half down, relaxing against the mattress as you grind back against his hand. He lets you, keeping his hand still as he lets you work yourself to pleasure on your own. 
“Please! Please!” You beg, mind going numb with pleasure as his thumb brushes your clit with every rock of your hips. Your legs are already shaking, body trembling as the pleasure starts to build and build, the promise of relief coming at the hands of your alpha. 
“Eager little thing,” He rumbles, his breath fanning across your folds. 
You moan as his tongue drags along your slit, tasting your slick. Your fingers sink into the sheets, holding on as his tongue prods your entrance, his mouth slurping at the slick dripping from you. It’s obscene, but either of you care, both of you too lost in your need. 
Your knees nearly give out, your pussy clenching around his tongue as he applies more pressure against your clit, drawing slow circles with his thumb. He’s groaning against you, the quiet sound rumbling deep in his chest. He’s losing his own sanity, his alpha taking over as your heat triggers his rut instincts. His alpha has to be screaming as much as your omega is to mate. 
Your orgasm hits you suddenly, washing over you with a power that almost makes you black out. Slick spills out of you as your pussy flutters, soaking John’s face and beard in your juices. He’s relentless, not giving you even a second as he continues to fuck you with his tongue as his thumb rubs tight circles on your clit. Your legs are shaking, eyes rolling as the pleasure continues to build. Despite your orgasm, it’s not enough. Your brain knows it and your body knows it. You need a knot before you’ll be able to relax, before the pain and the need fades enough for your brain to relax. 
Even then, it will only be for a moment. 
“Alpha!” You whine, pushing back against his face, seeking out more. 
John growls against your pussy, the sound vibrating into your very soul. You let out a whimper in response, clutching at the sheets desperately. He pulls away from your pussy, licking his lips. You wish you could see him, the way his face shines with your slick, his beard soaked with your release. He licks his lips, savoring every last taste of you he can get as he sinks his fingers into you. 
You clamp down around the thick digits, a groan leaving his lips as you squeeze around him. You’re desperate for another orgasm, another chance at relief from the blazing inferno under your skin, the painful need still pulsing in your pelvis. 
“Please, alpha!” You whine, bucking back against his hand. “Hurts.”
He shushes you, continuing to fuck you with his fingers. The wet squelch of your pussy is loud in the small room, obscene and depraved, but you cannot bring yourself to care who might be able to hear as another orgasm rushes through your body. You whine in pleasure as slick dribbles out around his fingers, forced out by the fluttering of your walls. You can’t stop, don’t stop, as you continue to rock back against him. He watches you, holding his hand still as you fuck yourself on his fingers. You’re still desperate for more, still needing the one thing he won’t give you yet. 
He pulls his fingers from you, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness. Your pussy is still pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm, still trying to clench around nothing. John curses as he drags his fingers through your folds, spreading your slick and your release across the sensitive skin. 
“Tell me what you need.” He rasps, the edges of his voice harsh as his alpha begins to take over.
“Need your knot, alpha.” You whine, pushing your hips back, searching for anything that might offer some more relief. “Please.”
He lets out a pleased rumble, shifting behind you. You bite your lip in anticipation and excitement, your body twitching as his rough hands smooth over the skin of your hips. His touch is electric, amplified by the sensitivity brought on by your heat. You want to feel him against you, you want to feel him inside of you. You need him, every fiber of your being, every cell in your body reaching out to him, inviting him in. 
A quiet mewl escapes you as he drags the head of his cock through your folds, gathering your slick on his hard length. Your entire body flutters in anticipation as he pushes against your entrance, meeting no resistance as he presses into you. Your body aids him, relaxing around him as it welcomes the intrusion. There’s no pain, no discomfort as he stretches you open, aided by the copious slick that still seeps out around his cock. You practically shudder in relief as you finally get what you want, what you need. 
Your alpha’s cock inside you. 
His grip is tight on your hips as he begins to move, rocking his own hips as he presses deeper into you. He shifts his legs around yours, pressing himself closer until he’s flush against your ass. You can feel him deep inside you, and you’re almost certain you could see it if you looked. You brace yourself against the bed, instinct taking over as you begin to move with him, rocking back to meet his thrusts. It’s lewd, the sound of skin slapping skin as he sets an almost frantic pace, sharp thrusts accentuating the wet squelch of your pussy around him, and the sound of his hips meeting your ass. 
His fingers dig into your hips almost to the point of pain, but you don’t care. You’re far too lost in your instincts, and the pleasure, to care much about anything. The hormones and endorphins block it out, only one thought on your mind, playing on repeat. 
Knot knot knot knot.
You moan loudly as Price ruts into you, not caring who might hear, or who can hear. Price moans and growls, the sweetness of your scent blocking out all thoughts except how much he needs to breed you, how much he needs to be a good alpha and take care of his omega. 
You just want to be a good omega for your alpha. 
You cum again with a cry, pussy fluttering around his cock as more slick dribbles out of you, soaking the sheets below you. John doesn’t stop, save for a slight falter of his thrusts as you squeeze around him tightly, your pussy trying to milk his own orgasm from him. Your body is shaking, his hands the only thing keeping your hips upright as more and more pleasure continues to build despite now three orgasms that have rocked through you. 
You need him to cum, you need him to fill you up with his knot. You need to feel the warmth of his seed inside you, the heaviness of it as it fills you. Drool begins to pool on the sheets below your face, adding to the mix of fluids soaked into your already damp sheets. John’s pace never falters, even as sweat begins to build on his brow, sliding down the sides of his face. You want to lick it, follow the trail of salty liquid as it falls down his neck and onto his chest. 
Sweat drips from your own skin as another orgasm begins to build. You can tell John is close too as his grip tightens on your hips, the pain registering just for a moment at the back of your mind. You’ll forget it by the time your heat ends, the momentary pull to awareness lost in the haze of mindless pleasure and a need to mate. 
“C’mon.” John growls, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck. “Give it to me.” 
You let out a whine, knowing what it is he wants, what it is you need as you push yourself back up onto shaking arms, the adrenaline the only thing giving you the strength to move. John moves your braids to the other side of your neck, his chest pressing against your back. It changes the angle of his thrusts as he grinds against you, the swelling at the base of his cock catching on your walls as he continues to thrust deeply into you. 
“Please,” You whimper, bearing your neck to him as he kisses along the line of your shoulder. “Please alpha. Wanna be yours.” You whimper, arching into him in an attempt to get closer as his teeth drag across your skin. 
“My good omega.” He growls, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin right next to your scent gland at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “My good girl. Gonna take my knot like a good omega? Let me fill you up with pups as I make you mine?” 
You let out a high pitched whine at his words, trying to press your neck closer to his mouth. “Please, alpha! Please! Wanna be a good omega!” 
He curses under his breath, his arm wrapping around your body to hold you up. His knot presses into you, stretching you open as it continues to swell until he’s locked inside you. You cum around his knot at the sensation of being filled so completely, his hips continuing to grind against you as he chases his own orgasm. 
You nearly black out as his teeth sink into your skin, the pinch lasting only for a second before pleasure rushes through you. You let out a loud, high-pitched sound as he claims you, marking you as his forever. Another, sudden orgasm slams into you, his arm holding you still as you try to writhe on his knot. He growls into your skin as he stills, hips jerking against your ass as he cums inside you. 
Your arms give out as he releases your shoulder, blood dripping onto the sheets below you. Your head is spinning as he drags his tongue across the raised skin, cleaning the mark he’s left on you. 
He shushes you as you let out little whimpers and whines, gently easing your body so you’re laying flat against the bed. “Easy, that’s my good girl.” He praises you, pressing gentle kisses against your neck. “My good omega. Take my knot so well.” 
Your vision slowly fades to darkness as exhaustion takes over, a small smile tugging at your lips from his praise. 
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His eyes are dark and glazed as he stares up at you, mouth parted as he breathes heavily. Your head is thrown back, the sweetest little moans and whimpers leaving your lips as you bounce on his cock. His hands hold your hips, far too tight to be comfortable against your sweat-soaked skin as he guides your movements, but you offer no complaint. His thighs are soaked with your slick and a mix of fluids that seems to endlessly drip from you. Your own thighs are shaking around him, exhaustion prevalent in your sloppy movements. You’re close, eyes fluttering as your grip tightens on his shoulders. Your nails bite into his skin but he doesn’t care. He can’t feel much of anything but pleasure at the moment. 
He guides you through your orgasm as it rocks through you, your body shuddering around him. His hips press up against yours as he reaches his own end, spilling into you as his knot locks into place, connecting you two once again. He doesn’t know how long it’s been, nor does he care. All he wants is to be inside you, fucking his seed into you until you’re swollen with it. He stares down at where you’re connected for a moment, your pussy spread open around his knot.
He guides you against his chest as your body gives out, the haze of his instincts lifting just momentarily. His body aches, soreness settling in as his mind clears. You lick at his throat, tasting his sweat-slicked skin. Sweet little whimpers and whines leave your lips as you rest against him, completely boneless and at his mercy.
He reaches over to the nightstand, wrapping an arm around you to hold you still so he doesn’t tug on the knot as he grabs the bottle of electrolytes. He unscrews the cap, gently easing you back. You’re both still breathing heavily as he cradles the back of your head with one hand, helping you drink the electrolytes. You gulp it down even in your exhausted state, your body recognizing its need for sustenance. 
He drinks the rest after you finish, tossing the bottle onto the floor with the others. He picks up one of the nutrient bars, peeling the wrapper off before he begins to eat, feeding you bites of it as he does. You’re half asleep, chewing slowly as you rest against his chest, body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks of another of what’s now a countless number of orgasms. 
He gives you the last little bit of the bar before he relaxes back against the headboard, keeping his arms wrapped tight around you. The skin on your shoulder is still angry and slightly swollen from his claiming bite. It doesn’t help that he’s sunk his teeth into that spot twice now since he first claimed you. 
He swells with pride upon seeing it, the proof that you’re now his, a warning to others not to mess with you. It’s a slight weight off his shoulders. He has to worry less about someone trying something. Some haughty, cocksure alpha getting it through his head that he wants what he can’t have, that he can just take what’s not his. A low growl rumbles through his chest at the thought. 
He shushes you as you stir in response to the warning growl, a purr rumbling through his chest as he eases you back into a relaxed state. His good little omega, his sweet little omega, taking his knot so well. 
You make a quiet noise as he twitches inside you, the feeling of being enveloped in your tight heat almost like heaven. He closes his eyes, calming his inner alpha. He knows you need to rest. You need a little break before you start up again, before your heat continues to ravage you. 
Before he continues to ravage you. 
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2K notes · View notes
ohworm-writes · 6 months
Text
Thinking about Firefighter!Price.
Imagine him coming home after a long, exhausting day of working, keys jingling as he unlocks the door at some ungodly hour of the night, footsteps falling heavy against the floor as he walks inside, exhaustion and fatigue lingering along his form.
He's still dressed in his station wear - a fitted, navy blue t-shirt with Station 141's logo printed onto the front of it, small, right on the right side of his chest, and a pair of trousers in the same color to match, hanging loosely onto him.
He should take a shower, he knows he should. He smells of sweat and sulfur, the scents clinging to his clothes and skin like a second skin, and he know that the two of you'll have to wash the bedding come morning.
But god, the sight of you in bed, dressed in a loose pair of your own shorts and one of his spare shirts, face smushed against one of the pillows as your breathing comes slow, in and out, steady - it's far too enticing to pass up so easily.
So he unbuckles his belt in a daze, stripping off his shirt, undershirt and trouser, tossing the articles haphazardly onto the floor (he tries to toss them towards the hamper, but he knows he misses, given the way his belt buckle clanks loudly against the hardwood floor of the bedroom, but, honestly, he could care less).
And he gets right into bed beside you, fingers grazing lightly over the exposed skin of your thighs, traversing upwards, fingers splayed as his palm travels over the fabric of your shorts, sneaking their way under the loose shirt of his that you wear, hand pressing against your tummy as he pulls you close.
He presses his nose into your shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as he deeply inhales the scent of your body wash, softly shushing you as you start to rouse, the way your body gently begins to shuffle as you let out the softest, sleepiest yawn, listening as he grumbles softly against your skin.
"Didn't mean to wake you, love. Go back to sleep."
His voice is so hoarse, so strained and rough from the events of the day - yelling and barking out commands to the firefighters within the ladder and engine crews that he guides - but, at the same time, it's runs smooth like honey, settling just right in your sleepy, hazy mind.
He hugs you tighter, pressing your back flush against his chest as he curls his body around you in a subtly protective manner, littering tender kisses against your neck, trying to coax you back to sleep as he lets out a soft sigh, infatuated with the way your body molds perfectly into his.
"Mmm... s'fine, John. Wha... what time s'it?"
"None of your business, that's what time. Go back to sleep. I'll be here in the mornin'... promise you that. Okay?"
He doesn't let you ask your questions. If you try to think, he knows you'll wake up, and he already feels guilty about waking you up in the first place, so he doesn't even entertain your sleepy question, giving you a promise - two, technically. That he's here now and that it'll stay that way until the two of you wake up in the dawn.
"Stubborn..."
"Always. We c'n talk in the mornin'. Sleep."
"Mmm... glad you're back home safe. Love you."
"Love you, too."
But by the time he says the words, you've already fallen back asleep, and a deep, rumbling chuckle erupts from within his chest, amused, pressing one last kiss to the corner of your jaw before letting himself fall asleep behind you, his breaths, his heartbeat falling into sync with your own.
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More drabbles. Same warning + very slight nsfw implications.
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thinking about Simon with a civilian girlfriend who starts to take ice baths.
You likely gained a sports injury going to the gym while Simon was deployed. Working out is something you do to keep yourself busy and in shape while he's away. But you overdo it without him there. Always pushing your limits; he has a love-hate relationship with your stubbornness.
Doesn't realize you're injured at first (seeing as you had neglected to mention it in all of your previous over the phone conversations). Just comes home one day, and after a nice welcome home, you're asking him about the ice baths he takes. Said you saw something online about the benefits and were curious if the post was true. It is, he reveals, and praises ice baths for the relief they provide to his sore muscles. Then, he notices your facial expression as you nod along. It looks like you're taking mental notes.
"Why do you ask, lovie?"
You hadn't gone out of your way to hide the ache you were experiencing. Merely neglected to mention it. In fact, as you explain the pain you've been feeling and what you expect caused it, he recalls how you were favoring one side earlier. Feels bad, even after you take his head in your hands and tell him you didn't mention it because you didn't want him to worry like he's currently doing.
He just can't stand the thought of you in pain. Caters to you all night, even when you insist that the roles should be reversed. Agrees to help you take your first ice bath in the morning. Anything to help you feel better again.
When the morning comes, he's leading you to the bathroom after breakfast. Preps the ice bath as he's done hundreds of times in the past. Except this time, he's verbally going through each step. Has to pause a few times in the beginning to push you back into a sitting position on the toilet, ignoring your insistence that you can help.
When it's done, he's stepping back and watching you strip. Ignoring the temptation in front of him by reminding himself you two are only in this position cause you hurt. He starts the timer on his phone, so you're not in there too long. Then he's watching you step into the water...
... and you jump, startled by the cold. The bathroom is lit up with your curses. Your reaction reminds him of attempts to bathe a cat he's seen online. He can't help but let out a chuckle. One that's met with a glare. However, unlike the cat videos he's seen, you don't claw your way out. Instead, you continue to submerge yourself while gritting your teeth.
"It's fucking cold." You huff out once you're sprawled out under the mixture of ice and water.
"What'd you expect?" Simon can't help but retort.
"Shut up, smart-ass. I knew it was gonna be cold. Just didn't expect it to be this cold, considering you're unbothered by 'em," You pout. He crouches down beside you. Shaking his head.
"Of course I'm unbothered. Been doing 'em for years. You'll get used to it just like me." Simon encourages while patting your shoulder.
"Don't wanna get used to it," is all he gets as a response as your teeth chatter and arms cross.
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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months
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Ok this is very random but how do you think Ghost would deal w an s/o who is still a virgin at a very big girl age 🥴 maybe they’d be seeing each other for a while, and when things heat up and she confesses, how would he deal? Would he be honored and accept being her first or would he reject her altogether bc she is inexperienced?
(Because I’m in my 20s and safe to say on top of everything else in my life except this, I haven’t come across anyone with whom I’d like to be intimate with yet and though I try not to let it get to me, some part of me sometimes feels like a freak or like something is wrong with me)
I hope I did not cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable by sharing this, if I did I apologize and please feel free to delete this ❤️🕊️
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Ghost x FVirgin!Reader Word count: 2,9 k Tags/warnigs: Mild smut, light angst, fluff, comfort, praise & size kink Summary: Reader tells Ghost they’re a virgin while things are about to go down. 
A/N: Oh anon!! No boundaries crossed here at all! Your request (or at least I took it as such and got inspired to write a brief oneshot about it) was very sweet. This of course is my HC but Simon would only and only take pride in being your first. He would get a huge ego boost from this and feel absolutely privileged to hear he's worthy of such trust.  I think he would want to imprint himself in your head as the best man and the best sex partner you will ever have – he would do his all to eradicate even the very thought of wanting to try others after him. Again, an ego thing, but also a desperate wish to please his partner and make them feel safe. This man screams service top to me. I think Simon has a wild side – not mean, just wild, as in he might be into rough sex and certain types of kinky stuff every now and then but only if his partner is willing. He would be very gentle and considerate (passionate as hell though), knowing you're inexperienced, he would make you feel as safe as possible and wait until you were ready and willing to explore things further.  Also, I can't help but be moved by what you told me in this message. I understand where you're coming from with these "is there something wrong with me" thoughts, because gosh, I feel you! And speaking from experience… it's 110 % worth it to wait for the right person to come along! Sex can be awesome, mind-blowing, one of the best things – with the right partner. Not worth it with just whomever, imho. Stay safe and trust yourself! And I hope you like this short drabble I made for Ghost x Virgin!Reader ❤️❤️❤️ much love 😘
Simon Riley was a one of a kind man. 
He put every guy on every dating app to shame, and not just with his size. He was manly, in a word, even if you never knew you wanted such an overly masculine man. At least, not until you met him. 
Simon was not only sturdy and mature – he was armed with calm rage and dark humor. Just one look in his eyes told you he was not the life of the party. Actually, he was Death himself: one of those four horsemen that heralded the Apocalypse.
Perhaps unintelligibly, the same man was also extremely considerate. A true gentleman if there ever was one. He always placed you and your needs first. But underneath the calm, cynical surface you sensed fierce intensity: fire and smoke, something that screamed Danger, high voltage.
And you could not keep away. Quite the opposite, really. The combination of a wildfire and a tornado roaring upon this solid bedrock of a man was simply alluring.
Things had gone a little too far without you meaning them to. You were not a woman of one night stands, actually, you had never had a stand. But Simon changed that, too. Because now you were thinking about sleeping with him. 
After years and years of waiting for someone sensible to come along, you had begun to lose hope, especially when people seemed to fuck left and right while you wanted something real.
A bedrock. 
With that wildfire. Perhaps a tornado thrown in as well.
After weeks and weeks of flirting, the man asked you out, and after weeks and weeks of going out, you came to the conclusion that if someone deserved to be your first, it was Simon Riley. If there was any guy you wished would take you against a wall until you begged for mercy, it was him. At least in your fantasies, which were starting to get out of hand.
In real life, things were not that breezy.
Because what would he say if – no, when – you told him you were a virgin at this age? What if he would be bothered, what if things would get awkward between you two? 
What if he decided you were simply too much trouble than you were worth? 
It seemed like a miracle that the guy was still around, having been left blue-balled date after date. Either he was hellbent on conquering you, or then… Well, you didn't even dare to think about or's and then's and what if's. Especially when your own feelings were getting equally out of hand as those fantasies.
He probably had plenty of experience, and the thought certainly didn't make you feel any better. How would you compare, being not only inexperienced but a whole goddamn virgin? And it would probably hurt on top of everything. This man must be pretty damn big downstairs if 6 '4 feet and large hands were any indication.
Still, all fears flew out the window in record time every time he pulled you into a kiss. Your body molded into his already: the broad shoulders closed in around you, and it only felt thrilling. His warmth, his arms and scent enveloped you like the sweetest prison, and you held onto him as tightly as you could. Not because he wasn't clutching you with the same–if not greater–fervor, but because you wanted to make sure he was real.
And you realized what the allure of Simon Riley was. 
He felt safe.
In fact, he was safe. He represented safety in all its aspects. 
Who would've thought that death and wildfire could feel so good, so reliable?
You wondered if he thought this was some game; that you kept him waiting. The unwritten rule seemed to be that it was ok not to jump into bed on the first date. If anything, it was only a decent move. But what did the rules say about the second, third or fourth date? Not to talk about tenth? 
Things were starting to resemble some prudent high school romance. Well, perhaps not prudent, the way you two practically ground against each other while making out after every date. Without being vocal about it or pressuring you in any way, you could tell he wished for things to go further. Hell, every fiber in this man begged for more. He would soon burn your clothes off simply with that searing gaze alone. 
Watching the door close on that heated stare after at least 15 minutes of wanton, wicked kissing followed by clumsy Good night's and shy, apologetic smiles just wouldn't do anymore. The poor man was left breathless and puzzled in the cold night with nothing but a hard-on and the crumbs you gave him to keep him warm. 
Things were getting ridiculous, criminally so, and you felt pity for those pants trying to keep him in confinement. You felt pity for your own soaked underwear as you climbed to a lonely bed all hot, bothered, and wet.
Which was why this evening would end with you asking him to come inside. 
.  .  .
Lately, his hands have started to roam; they even cup your ass as he moans in your mouth – and hearing that raspy, low sound leave him forces the final decision. It's the final prophecy that tells you he is the one. You should’ve known it was only a matter of time with him.
The man hides his surprise well as you invite him in.
"Thought you'd never ask," he gives you a soft chuckle before stepping over the threshold to not only your apartment but also your life and privacy. 
You barely get out of your shoes before his shadow engulfs you and strong hands lift you in his lap like you weigh nothing at all. You instinctively reach for support by clasping your hands behind his neck. 
"You really know how to torture a man, don't you?" The brown in his eyes is nearly swallowed by warm darkness as he carries you to the bedroom. 
"I'm sorry," you whisper, and he gives a short laugh of gravel.
"Don't be. This has been fun." 
He sets you down next to the bed, and your heart is thumping so bad you fear he can hear it banging against your chest. 
"But it's about time I torture you, right?"
Oh God…
Things happen so fast that it’s hard to tell who undresses who, but somehow, you find yourself standing in your bedroom with nothing but knickers and a bra on while he's taking off his pants. The man has definitely waited for this to happen for god knows how long, and it only makes your stomach lurch.
He thinks you know what you're doing, your brain offers when it should know when it’s time to shut the hell up. You can see the generous bulge this man is packing, and while perhaps compelling to other women, to you, it mainly looks intimidating. Threatening, almost.
He doesn't take his boxers off, seeing you're just standing there like some statue, still in your underwear and almost shaking from thoughts running rampant. 
His form swallows you as he steps closer; wide hands slide up your arms, then draw you against him – against that demanding pulse that gets trapped between you two. Even through the black cloth, you can tell he's thick and big, just like you feared.
The man is blazing, and seems to have grown another foot in height as he towers over you with all that muscle. His shoulders are almost the size of your head, and you already know the hand that runs down your spine is experienced in crushing windpipes. It makes you breathe in shivers, and of course he notices something is wrong.
"Everything good?" He's eager and breathless, the erection pressing against you like a threat. He’s a man who has fashioned a weapon out of himself, so it shouldn't be a surprise that everything in him speaks violence.
"Yes," you try to assure him – a lousy lie only punctuated by the audible gulp that leaves your throat as you try to swallow your nerves back down.
"You afraid…?" 
"Just a little nervous," you tell him, a half confession.
"Mm. That makes two of us." 
He draws down into a kiss, the hands of a soldier and a killer nearly drawing you up from the ground as he pulls you close. You don't really buy his claim of being nervous too: you can feel how he throbs between you, heavy and impatient. 
Hesitantly, you reach to hug him as well, and you feel so small, so insignificant when wrapped around this… giant. The knowledge that you're about to be trapped under all this crushing weight leaves you both faint and needy. 
He’s a good kisser, but as he moves to devour your neck, you start to freeze from the middle.
"Alright… Come here."
He half carries, half lays you down on the bed, then crawls between your legs and changes his tactic a little. Gentle kisses are ghosted down your throat, and soon, he's at your breasts, soft as a whisper. But as he draws the fabric of your bra aside, your nipple is caught inside a hot, wet mouth, and the wildfire surges forth. There’s no way out from under him anytime soon, and you realize the colossal body is already spreading your thighs wide. 
The way he already looks so damn good there between your legs: big, the epitome of raw, masculine power… It's almost sinful that a man like him is here with a virgin. It's a whole new hell how he's kissing you gently as fuck while blazing like a bonfire about to engulf and devour you. You want to wrap your legs around his middle, attach yourself to him in any way you can, but your thighs are weak pudding. 
You feel both lost and found with him. In him.
He sucks and kisses your breasts like they're the only thing he's here for – and it feels good, heavenly, to be honest. But then he starts to travel down.
Shit… You need to tell him – and soon, or else there will be no time to say anything before the last of the shielding fabric is gone.
"Simon…?"
"Mm-hm?" 
He doesn't even stop with the kissing, merely hums on your skin as his mouth reaches your stomach.
"You're my first," you finally force the truth into the night; a soft and desperate fact. It's only the faintest breath, but he halts abruptly like he has been stabbed between the ribs.
Great… 
Here comes the awkward.
He rises. Softly, slowly, like a shadow, just a second away from getting to what's between your legs.
"Is that so?"
His voice is hoarse and dark from arousal. The whole man is intoxicating, and your heart is hammering in your chest, both from hunger and dread.
"Yes…?" 
A broad hand comes to rest on the dip of your waist; gently, like you're some frightened animal about to dart off from under his touch. 
"Love… Are you sure you want to do this?"
Are you? You almost ask, then bite your lip.
He just called you love, something he has never done before. You can see your breasts rising with the breaths you try to calm down with sheer willpower. 
He lets out a small sigh, then crawls beside you and takes you in his arms. The bed sags and wails under his weight before your body is pulled into a delicious bear hug.
"Sweetheart."
His voice is so smooth, so different from the intense, rough smoke that has followed you up until this point that you feel vehement tears burn your eyes. First love, and now, sweetheart…
"There's no need to rush things," he says while keeping you close. Ever the gentleman, but you fear that you've ruined everything.
"We haven't exactly been rushing," you mutter somewhere in the plates of his chest. You both feel and hear how another sigh travels up his throat and is breathed into the crown of your head.
"Now… listen to me, ok? I've wanted you ever since we met. Can't deny it. But the last thing I want is to force you to do something you don’t wanna do."
You squeeze your eyes shut from what he says. Ever since you met… You can remember the lingering gazes, the way his eyes lit up with something hopeful and pure, how it drove away the exhaustion that seemed to have made a home in this big, brooding man. You remember how he stole a few stares up and down your body, too; remember the hunger he never even tried to conceal – not until now.
He is the most enthralling being you have ever seen, a mystery and a force of nature, an indomitable man, and to say that you haven't thought about him that way ever since too would be a lie.
"But I want it," you look up at him slowly, feeling much safer now that he's holding you like this.
I want you.
You realize you're pouting when the warm look in his eyes gains a playful glint as he laughs softly.
"You want it?"
"Yes."
That little twinkle turns into a downright gleam as he looks at you like you're the most adorable thing he has ever seen.
“You want it with me?”
“Yes.”
"How much do you want it?" The charred voice is so soft now: it washes over you in generous waves. His hands keep you in safe custody – and you're the most willing prisoner there ever has been.
"Pretty badly?" You breathe into the air between you and see the corner of his mouth tug.
"Well, in that case…" His hand sweeps down your back and comes to reside on the swell of your hip. "I'm glad I'm here to help."
Pale eyelashes drop to your lips just before he kisses you again. You arch in his arms, like a flower leaning towards sunlight; your mouth, your whole being unfurls under his leadership. He rolls partly on top of you, then moves to kiss you all over as you lie on your back: he kisses your chin and neck, your collarbones and the hollow little crevice between them. The hand on your hip brushes down your thigh, then back up, up, until his fingers meet the folds already soaked through the fabric of your underwear. 
His touch is soft, but gains more weight as he sweeps slowly up, then brushes a thumb over the exact location of your clit.
"Oh–" 
He knows what he's found, even without the evidence of your voiceless shake of a breath. He brushes another stroke over it, and it doesn't matter that you still have your undies on – you can feel his weight, the gentle pressure he applies as he draws a circle to usher another soft moan out of you.
"You like that?"
"Mhm," is the only thing you are able to answer.
"That's it…" he cheers you on with calm assurance. "Gonna make you feel good. And that's a promise."
You catch a hint of ego in that promise, but there's something else, too. A fervent devotion, a bottomless need to please you no matter what. The right man, definitely: not someone who is only after their own satisfaction. You don't exactly need the answer anymore, but you ask the final, burning question nonetheless.
"Simon?"
"Speak your mind, love."
"Are you disappointed…?"
He stops again, a breath away from you. 
"Disappointed?" He sounds quite shocked, almost appalled. "...Disa–"
He huffs, then reaches to cup your face. You raise your eyes to his and see that he's…ardent, and very, very serious.
"Love, I'm honored."
You can only blink at the solemn vow, and he slowly shakes his head.
"Silly little thing…" 
It's something he muses almost to himself before he drags his fingers over your sternum and down your stomach, reverently, like you're a piece of precious porcelain. But the heat in his eyes is back, and your fingers curl to grasp a fistful of sheet as his hand disappears underneath the cloth, when he finally touches you with nothing in between.
You suppose it's his middle finger that sweeps over your clit this time, then slips between your folds without effort. It coaxes your thighs open to give him better access, and access he has: he curls the finger until it almost dips inside. Your lips part with a quiet sigh as your chin climbs toward the ceiling.
"Look at that… All wet and sweet for me already."
The way you expose your neck is like an invitation: he buries his face in your neck, tries to drown in the scent and feel of you while gliding across the wetness down below. He spreads moisture on the tight bud, and you jerk a little from how sensitive it is – he huffs a smile in your ear. It makes you release the sheet and reach out to grasp him by the neck, to make him stay precisely where he is, close like this, so close…
"Do ya even know how bloody sweet you are?"
The last of your wits make a vanishing act as he breathes more praise on your skin. You're languid in his arms, feeling both weightless and heavy, like you're sinking into the mattress, and then his hand moves lower; one thick finger is plunged slowly inside. 
Oh God oh God–
You feel him, all of him, filling and spreading you. And it's not enough… not nearly enough.
"We'll take it nice and slow, alright?" He whispers in your ear, and you tighten around him like on command. "Got all night to make a mess of you. That sound good?"
You can't help it: your lips draw into a smile when thinking about all the things he will do to you, all the sweet things you've always waited to happen. 
"Yes."
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glossgojo · 1 year
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he looks like he works with his hands (part 1/2)
pre-outbreak!joel miller x reader | 4.6k words
cw: 18+ MINORS DNI, AFAB reader, , age gap, ex-babysitter reader, oral fem-receiving, pussy drunk joel, manhandling, abusive ex-boyfriend, some violence, protective joel, panic attack, anxiety
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a/n: alright listen up, i seem to have a thing for joel giving y/n head first and then getting his fill, that being said expect a very detailed part two :) this first part is mostly plot and some smut, i plan on making this a two parter but it might be longer
“jesus christ almighty” joel muttered under his breath taking in your frame from where he stood leaned against his truck. he knew you were coming to visit, sarah had screamed when you called and nearly given him a heart attack. you were back in austin for grad school, the sweet girl you were you visited sarah as soon as you moved in. you had babysat sarah the summer after you graduated high school and one summer of freshman year, but then your parents moved near your out-of-state college and you never came back. and now you here you were torturing every breath exhaling out of joel’s lungs.
you were dawned in a denim mini skirt and a tight short-sleeved top that fell a bit short of the suggestion of fabric. your midriff was exposed slightly, showing off your honey smooth skin and your legs on display. it would’ve been completely suited for the scorching texas heat, but joel felt his head swim as the clothes clung to your curves and your face lit up after recognizing him.
“joel! you haven’t changed a bit!” your cheeks flushed as you bounded your way up the driveway. joel had to clench his teeth to stop from looking at the bounce that wasn’t just in your step.
“that a good thing I hope? you look well kid.” joel didn’t know why he added that last part, maybe it was a silent reminder to himself that the last time he’d seen you you were just a kid, and whatever he was feeling had to go. he didn’t notice the way your expression dropped a little at the word, you quickly disguised it with a teasing smile.
“thanks and yeah don’t worry sarah keeps you young, well as young as you could be.” you nudged him, moving towards the front door as he huffed out a laugh and you hated the butterflies that followed. you’d been a little bit in love with the man ever since that summer. god you had missed his voice, rough and deep and somehow still filled with all the confidence you wish you had. joel watched you walk to the front door like you were visiting a friend’s place and he had to admit he liked the notion.
joel followed you close behind as he picked out his belongings from his truck. sarah ran down the stairs and you laughed a little bit as she jumped into your arms. joel had to laugh at the theatrics, if he had known better it looked like you were visiting between deployments. “you’re so pretty, how did you get prettier?” sarah rushed out, excited and barely breathing as she spoke. joel couldn’t help but smile when his sweet daughter looked so excited.
“well, i don’t know about all that. i was gonna say the same to you, you grew up into a beautiful young lady. my little sarah’s all grown up.” you brushed a piece of her hair back, just like you remembered she liked it. joel felt his heart warm a little at that, even if it had been years since he’d seen you, you still cared for sarah just as much and that mattered to him. maybe you weren’t the stranger he thought you were. you and sarah caught up in the living room, joel sat and listened interjecting every now and then with questions of his own. you liked the feeling of being with them. you were across the country from your family now, so this semblance of family was all you could cling to. you blushed at the thought that made you could raise sarah like a daughter.
joel had trouble focusing when you shifted in your seat, your mini skirt not doing well to hide the maddening baby pink panties you had on. he was sure he was red, but he could explain that away by heat or a tan if he needed to. you weren’t any better, losing your focus when you saw him cross his muscular arms.
“do you wanna stay for dinner?” sarah asked and your face pouted a little as you braced yourself to disappoint the girl. her big brown eyes clung onto every word you said when you spoke next.
“i really would love to and thank you so much for the offer sarah-bear, but my highschool friends roped me into drinks with them at 9.”
“have dinner first, you shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach.” he said it like it was a command less than a question, his voice gruff and your mouth dried up as you nodded obediently.
joel had asked tommy to pick up food on his way over, you hadn’t realized that since it was friday night you would be interrupting their family night. when you asked joel if it was fine for you to stay he leveled you with a pointed look, “don’t be ridiculous doll.” and you shut well up at that. doll. it wasn’t quite what you needed but it wasn’t kid. doll you could work with. doll would creep its way into your dreams and the hours before sleep when your core burned from need, from a hunger for him.
with that you sat down and chatted with tommy and he was just the same, hotheaded but kindhearted over everything. he spoke it like he saw it and tommy got kicked in shin by his dear big brother when he took one look at you and said “dam-“ you couldn’t even hide your expression in time, making joel snicker.
dinner felt normal, as if you hadn’t stepped through the door after 4 years. tommy had gone through some girlfriends while joel had remained single. you would hold onto that fact like the last hope for your sanity. sarah was in middle school now, she had troubles of her own. you listened to her gossip like it was your own, interjecting with your own advice, and joel couldn’t understand how you were so enraptured by it. maybe there were some things he just couldn’t help sarah with.
after what felt like far too short of a dinner, you had to make your way to the pub. you helped clean up with joel while tommy and sarah sat in the living room.
“do you need a ride?” you rotated the thought in your mind, you being stuck with joel in a small space. you’d rather not, after all your roommate promised that you had a ride home.
“i was just gonna drive over and my friend is picking us all up after.”
“alright take my number just in case.” you flushed at his words, he kept demanding you do this and that and because you were fucking gone for him you listened. it was his voice you told yourself, not his heady musk or his big brown eyes staring you down. you let him write his number down on a piece of paper and you nodded with a meek thanks as you took it from him. his hand brushed against yours it was so much larger than yours, they had calluses and scrapes on them. you had always admired joel for his work, and his hands showed exactly how hard he worked for his daughter. you’d thought about his hands more often than you’d admit over the years.
you gathered your belongings from where they were strewn about over the couch, joel had to hold back a groan as you bent over a little too much for his sanity. you said goodbye to tommy and hugged sarah telling her you’d be over more often since she wasn’t far now. joel considered asking you to babysit again but he didn’t want to detract from your studies. if you offered he wouldn’t turn it down. sarah was adamant she didn’t need one but he’d rather you look after her than his well-intentioned bible-thumping neighbors.
joel felt like he’d already crossed the line of friendly employer or even anything you two had before so he had to stop himself from insisting you take one of his jackets to wear out. it wouldn’t get cold but you’d be drunk and probably chillier than you realized, not to mention a small part of him wanted you to cover up when you went out. joel very pointedly ignored that incessant primitive part of his mind.
he did however watch until you got into the car and drove away, as if something would happen to you between the short walk over. your heart was beating as you left the miller’s house. you would have to shake joel’s scent and gruff voice out of your senses, you could feel them seeping into your bones making your head dizzy.
you needed to drink.
catching up with your high school friends was the distraction you needed. you had been in contact with them through the years but there was nothing close to being in front of them. hours ebbed and flowed as you drank and chatted. you felt a buzz but you weren’t drunk, your lips were loose as you told them how your high school crush had returned with more force than ever.
the drinks weren’t enough to dissuade the panic that dripped down from your head as your eyes landed on a familiar figure entering the bar. your ex-boyfriend had just walked in and your body went into flight or fight. your friends noticed your gaze and groaned as they took in your issue. your friend was speaking, their words far away and faded, only when they shook your arm did you hear them, “y/n are you okay, we can leave?” you didn’t want your friends to end their reunion because of you, if he approached you, you would just leave by yourself.
“i’m fine, hopefully he doesn’t recognize me.” you doubted it very much, he had tormented you for two years and took any chance to continue after you broke up. despite your anxiety being spiked you managed to make conversation with your friends, speaking quietly so as to not bring attention to yourself. it all became too much when you flinched when he looked in your direction. you were feeling more anxious than ever, excusing yourself to the bathroom to collect yourself.
as you walked away you broke into a run, scared that he would see you and follow you. instead of feeling better you felt anxiety wrack your body as you practically slammed into the bathroom. all your memories of your relationship flooded into your mind as you entered a stall and felt your breathing stop and your head rush as your vision blurred. you were having a panic attack and your heart was beating irregularly, were you dying? oh god, your hands shook as you pulled out the piece of paper joel had handed you earlier and your cell phone and typed in the number without thinking. it was now 11:30pm, joel was probably asleep. you couldn’t stop yourself as your shaking fingers pressed call
two dials later and the call connected, “joel i’m sorry for bothering you but could you pick me up.” you rushed out, your breathing labored as you struggled to calm yourself down.
“hey sweetheart, calm down, where are you? i’m coming over.” you felt tears prick your eyes as you tried to listen to his soothing cadence and his assured words. sweetheart. you were joel miller’s sweetheart, you could get through this.
“i-i’m at Donn’s, my ex is here im in the bathroom right now.” your voice sounded weak, you sounded like a scared little kid and it made you cringe, meanwhile joel was feeling anger rise at your statement. he had remembered how awful the kid was, he’d kept his thoughts to himself but when you eventually broke up everyone was happy about it. he was already out the door when you spoke, now he’d be speeding.
“i’m on the way, stay on the phone, what did you have to drink?” you wiped your stray tears as you felt your anxiety subside, joel’s voice and the distance you had put between your ex and yourself, grounding you. you babbled to joel, every now and then he’d throw in a follow-up question or a hum of acknowledgment, it all felt so normal you ached to talk to him like this more often. joel was calming you down, keeping you distracted, he was the only thing keeping you from another panic attack and you almost sobbed at that over the phone.
“hey joel?”
“yeah doll?” a shiver traveled down your spine at the pet name. you were so gone for him.
“thank you for this, i owe you.”
“you don’t owe me anything, i’d do it again.” you don’t know if that was joel’s southern hospitality or if he really meant it, either way you’d let that statement soothe you.
“i’m almost there, just pulling into the parking lot, take your time coming out alright, i’ll meet you inside?” you could hear him pulling into the parking lot rather quickly, you exhaled slowly as you told him you were coming and exited the stall. you quickly made your way to your friends, telling them you weren’t feeling well and that you would be heading home early. you told them that joel was picking you and you would’ve laughed at their reaction if not for the anxiety crawling back up your spine.
you waved them goodbye moving towards the door when your vision was blocked, you looked up to meet the eyes of your ex. your stomach dropped as your mouth went dry and you opened to speak, to try and get away but you were frozen in place. “hey babe, you miss me?”
“i’m not your babe.” you gritted out, trying to move past him when he raised an arm across your middle and you felt like throwing up.
“come on you’re still mad? i was just a kid.” anger bubbled up in your throat and your eyes stinged from frustration.
“get away from me.” you hated his touch, you wanted to scrub your body and push away the memories it brought back.
“such a fucking bitch, you still think you’re too good for me huh? you’re still as busted and arrogant as ever.” your vision was blurring and you couldn’t breathe, you looked down to your feet wishing that you could be anywhere but here.
“y/n.” joel’s voice brought you back to reality, you looked up, looking over your ex’s shoulder to see joel. he took one look at your watery eyes and crushed expression and saw red. your ex turned to meet joel’s glare.
“who the fuck is this?” you didn’t speak, your voice was caught in your throat but you took his distraction as a chance to move away. you quickly moved around him, standing next to joel as your ex turned towards both of you.
“let’s go.” joel ignored him, looking at you and trying not to break the fucker’s jaw. you could see joel was seething, his chest rising and falling and his brows furrowed in anger. you’d never seen him so upset, and you knew it wasn’t pointed at you because his eyes softened when they met yours.
“hold on pal i’m talking to you, you fucking her? she’s a slut don’t waste your time.” your ex put a hand on joel’s shoulder, trying to charm him and joel took one look at the guy before landing his fist square in his jaw. your ex dropped in a blink of your eye and you gasped as joel ground out a threat.
“don’t talk to her ever again, you hear?” your ex nodded furiously from where he lay on the ground, rushing out a yes in between a string of curses. you let joel pull you away, your ex crying out and wailing in pain as you left. you couldn’t think as you followed joel, his hand on yours. it enclosed yours fully, rough and warm around your hand and you let it distract you.
joel miller had just punched your ex and rescued you, you couldn’t think straight blinded by one thought and one thought only. you just wanted to-your hands found his face as you stopped in front of the passenger door, you moved quickly as you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. joel’s expression changed from anger to confusion and then something else you couldn’t place in the streetlight lit parking lot. and then you felt panic as he didn’t look particularly happy with your actions.
“i’m sorry we can forget-“ you leaned against the closed door, removing your hands and creating some distance for him.
“no darlin’ don’t apologize, just wondering if you’ll remember this tomorrow.” joel could taste whiskey on your lips, he wasn’t sure he could live with himself if he took advantage of you being drunk.
“joel, i’ve never felt more sober.”
“good.” he took the hand that had been holding yours, the one that didn’t touch your ex and tilted your chin up, and your eyes met his. they were looked like honey and you wanted to swim in them. joel leaned his head, brushing his lips against yours and you could feel his facial hair scrape against your soft skin. it lit a fire within you. your arms came up around his neck, his hand moving to the small of your back, deliciously pulling you closer and you gasped into his mouth. joel tasted like heaven, just his breath alone was making you dizzy as you let him explore your mouth and make your lips mold to his. despite his intimidating exterior, joel kissed you like you were the only person on earth, taking his time to draw gasps from you and when his mouth moved off yours to dip under your jaw you lost your mind. your hands came up to press his head into the space between your head and your chest, as he littered your skins with kisses and nips. you whined out his name, your legs shaking as you raked your hands through his hair, probably leaving it as a mess. you opened your eyes to take him in, his lips puffy and his hair a mess, his breathing was as hard as yours and his big brown eyes had darkened.
“joel, please.” your hands were still in his hair, as you whispered into the fraction between your lips between sloppy kisses.
“please what doll?” did you have to say it? joel could read your mind, your thoughts written on your face from your cloudy eyes to your parted puffy lips. you looked wrecked and all he had done was kiss you. joel didn’t think he could hold back much longer, but he wanted you to be sure. you shivered as he leaned back, his warmth leaving you and his piercing gaze making you squirm. you managed to cough up the courage to speak next.
“come back to my place, my roommate is at her boyfriend’s place.” joel’s eyes flashed with desire, his hand shooting out to your hip, grazing the exposed patch of skin above your skirt and opening the passenger door. you shivered against at the feel of his hand against you, god you were pathetic but at least you could blame it on the slight chill of the night.
“get in.” you didn’t think twice as you turned to get in, joel holding the door open for you and feeling his sanity crumble when your damn skirt hiked up again. when joel got into the car you began to take in everything that happened.
“is your hand okay?” he’d been carefully keeping it away from you and when he was driving. it didn’t look broken under the city lights but you could bet it hurt.
“yeah it’s fine don’t worry.” he showed you to prove his point, besides some bruises on his knuckles, his hand did look fine.
“you, uhm thank you.” you couldn’t articulate just how much it all meant to you and you didn’t know how to start thanking him for every single thing he did. joel nodded at your words, not really thinking he needed to be thanked.
“if he ever comes near your again, or if anyone talks to you like that, you come to me alright?” you swallowed down, meeting his gaze at the red light. you felt heat travel south, the prospect of joel being there for you if anyone disrespected you made you clench your legs together. pressure building in your core, joel had to hold back a smirk as he watched you squirm in the seat.
“yeah i will.” your voice sounded breathy, your heart was beating so fast in your chest you wanted the car ride to be over so you could feel his lips against yours again. you needed him so badly your hands itched to find home in his hair again.
the rest of the car ride was silent, only interrupted by you giving him directions to get to your apartment.
you made your way to the apartment with joel following you closely behind, his eyes not moving from the view of your curves. you unlocked your door, throwing your pursed on your couch and turning towards joel, he took in your place. there were unopened boxes strewn about and minimal furtiniture but the place was plenty big for two students.
“can i get you something to drink?” you stood against the back of your sofa, looking at joel when he met your gaze. his stepped towards you, hands finding purchase on your hips, his thumbs grazed your skin and you felt dizzy looking into his eyes.
“just you.” confusion flashed on your face replaced quickly by awe as joel sank to his knees in front of you, looking up at you for any sign of disapproval. you nod, in a daze, joel presses kisses up your legs as you lean back on the sofa for support, your legs feeling weak at the sight of him kneeling in front of you. you couldn’t believe this was happening.
joel’s face was at the height of your pussy, his hands on your hips to pull down your skirt, and you whined at the feeling of his hands on you, moving you to his will. you'd fantasized about the rough pads of his fingers against your clit, scraping against you relentlessly until you unfolded for him. joel pulled them down in one swift motion and was met with the sight of your infuriating hot pink panties. “fucking hell these have been torturing me all day.” you found your voice moments later as you processed what he said.
“you like them?” his fingers traced the edges so gently, punctuating your sentence with a snap of the waistband against your hip, you gaspedz
“like isn’t the word i’d use but they definitely made an impact,”
“i wore them for you.” you were barely processing your thoughts before they were spilling out of your mouth.
“yeah? you’re flattering me sweetheart.” joel’s fingers ghosted over your pussy making you twitch under his barely there touch.
“no i mean it, i’ve wanted you ever since i’ve known you.” you were leaning into his touch, preening at the small contact, joel’s lips twitched at your desperation.
“god amn’t i too old for you?,” joel wanted so badly not to think that what he was doing was wrong, but when you looked at him like that he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. you should’ve been with someone your own age.
“joel please, you're the hottest man i’ve ever known.”
“such a sweet talker baby, that’ll get you places.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he kissed your clit over your underwear, you clenched on air when he called you baby. if he didn’t touch you, you might just come in your underwear.
“i hope s-so, oh god.” you whined out as he stuck his tongue out dampening the spot where your clit was, the pressure of his tongue on your clit even over the fabric made you moan. you felt like crying from his teasing, it was becoming too much for you. and joel sensed it as he pulled your underwear down on one swift moment, leaving you bare centimeters from his face.
“so pretty, angel.” you whined out, your hand coming down to intertwine in his brown curls, trying to ground yourself. joel tapped the inside of your knee, silently asking you to widen your stance while the other hand, the one he had just used to punch your ex clasped around the back of your other knee and lifted it over his left shoulder. you gasped at the spread, at the feeling of being so exposed for him but joel didn’t give you a chance to think too hard about it. his mouth pressed against your clit and you gasped at his mustache grazing your sensitive skin. on top of the maddening desire you had for him he was scratching against you, adding to your craze.
joel sucked on your clit, his tongue circling and stroking you until you cried out his name, he wasn’t letting you off so easily as his mouth moved south. his tongue licked up your folds, his mouth collecting all the arousal that threatened to drip for you. as if he was a dehydrated and starved man, joel moved impossibly closer pushing you against the back of the couch until it dug into your back and drank you in like it was all he had. his tongue lapping you up and delving into you for more, you kept giving him more and more and joel didn’t think he could ever have enough. you tasted so damn good, he’d remember your taste for days, for years, he’d let it haunt him as long as he could. your eyes rolled to the back of your head when joel decided it wasn’t enough, his other hand coming to raise your other leg onto your shoulder, his head now crushed between your thighs. your arms shook as you kept yourself hoisted up on the back of your couch. joel didn’t care, he wanted to drown on your ichor, he’d let you suffocate him if it meant he could continue tasting you. the desperation in his actions and his relentless mouth on you made you cum, your arms burned as they held you up and you tried not to squeeze joel between your thighs but you couldn’t help it. joel removed one of your thighs from his shoulder, watching you shake from the overstimulation as he lapped up your come.
“you taste like heaven darlin’” you couldn’t form a sentence you only whined out his name as you took in his slickness jaw and glistening facial hair. you were all over his face and you felt like crying. you removed your other leg and tugged at his shoulder for him to stand, joel used the back of the sofa to help him stand, crowding you against it. you looked at him desperately, you didn’t want this to end, you could feel his hard-on press against you. but you couldn’t think. joel was looking at you like you were god’s single most beautiful creation.
“are you gonna let me fuck you pretty girl?” his drawl made his words come out slurred as he whispered them in the space you shared between your mouths, he sounded drunk and you could smell your cum on his breath. you nodded furiously, your eyes wide and joel felt like you were the most willing prey and he was a predator. he couldn’t find it in himself to care, lifting you by the back of your knees and letting you point him to your bedroom.
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