#once again based on a dream i had
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Sticky (J.H.S)
Preview: You gulped, swallowing down all the thoughts that flooded your brain. You wanted to pounce on him, something animalistic was growing inside of you.
contains- teasing, slight degradation, small amount of ass slapping/spanking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, dom!hoseok, dirty talk, begging, established relationship 18+ MDI!
word count - 2.8k/unedited
You held your breath as you typed in the code to the studio. Hoseok had left early in the morning, while the sun was still working its way into the sky and the morning dew was still hugging the grass. He didn’t leave before giving you a soft kiss on the forehead, and a gentle tuck of the blankets though. He loved the way you curled up closer to his side, stealing any of the left over body heat.
You wanted to surprise him with a late night snack,you had a little craving for ice cream and wanted to share the sweet treat with him.You had picked up some ice cream on your way over and snuck into the Hybe building. The door unlocked with a click and you silently pushed the door open, hoping you wouldn't give up the surprise too soon.
Only, the room is empty when you open the door all the way. Hobi’s computer is powered off, the chair is neatly pushed in, everything is perfectly in its place and shut down. Did he leave while you were on your way over? No, you would have crossed paths at some point, right? Maybe he had stepped out for a minute and would be back. You took a deep breath before your brain started to feed you extreme thoughts. Kidnapping, him cheating, all of it rushed in at once before you shut the door and made your way down the hall. There was one more place he could be.
As you approached the practice room, you could hear the loud and heavy beats of music. You weren’t sure how he hadn’t damaged his hearing yet with how loud the music was, but you creeped in, trying not to be spotted and sat on the couch in the corner of the practice room and admired your boyfriend.
He was staring himself down in the mirror, examining every small step he made. Each one was done with practiced confidence, perfect execution. You would never not be amazed at how his body went from moving in a wave, like he had absolutely no bones, to these extreme sharp movements in an instant.
Soon enough, Hoseok stopped dancing and instead crouched down to check his phone. It wasn’t until he looked into the mirror that he spotted you. His face instantly lit up, a large smile growing as he stood back up. “Baby!” He squealed out as he rushed towards you. “When did you get here?”
You giggled as he cupped your face and planted tiny kisses all over your cheeks and forehead. He caught you in a warm kiss, soft and innocent. You smiled against his lips before he pulled away.
“I brought ice cream.” You smiled as he made a surprised expression, mouth forming a cute ‘O’ shape.
Hoseok smiled and pulled you into a hug. He was sweaty, his shirt damp from the hours he spent dancing. He gave you a tight squeeze, rocking from side to side. “Thank you.” He planted yet another kiss on the top of your head before releasing you to dig into the ice cream.
The two of you enjoyed the ice cream, both giggling as you stole bites of the other's flavor. Conversation flowed naturally as Hoseok talked about his day, all the hard work he had put into his set, and how he was so excited for you to see how it turned out. He listened as you rambled on about your day as well, nodding along with the conversation as you talked about annoying co-workers and wanting to stay in bed all day.
“I’m going to run through one more time and then I’ll head home with you,” Hoseok moved to clean up the empty ice cream cups. “Does that sound okay, baby?”
Your heart fluttered at the pet name. No matter how long you had been together, it still made you feel like the day you started dating. You hummed in confirmation and nodded your head. “I’ll be cheering you on, like always.”
He smiled and finished cleaning up, before running back over to the mirrors and tapping play on his playlist. You watched him carefully as he ran through, making it about halfway before his actions made your heart race. You watched as the mirror began to fog up, you could see the sweat beading on his face.
Hoseok reached down and tugged his shirt off, throwing it off to the side as he continued to dance. His soft abs flexed with every movement. The blood rushed to your face and you felt your cheeks growing hot. Sweat glistened on his skin, dripping down and highlighting every section of his abs, all the way down to the thin layer of hair that dipped below his waistband.
You gulped, swallowing down all the thoughts that flooded your brain. You wanted to pounce on him, something animalistic was growing inside of you.
Suddenly, the music stopped and Hoseok was stood in front of you. He crouched down next to you and silently captured you in a kiss. It was soft and warm, a stark contrast to the dance you had just watched him perform. It was always warm with Hoseok, something you could melt into in an instant. You did so, easily falling into his touch and the softness of his lips.
His hands held you gently, a small hum sounding from him as you moved closer to dig your hands into his hair. Your hands made their way to the back of his head, your fingers tangling in the sweaty strands. You gave them a gentle tug, something you knew Hoseok enjoyed.
He let out a small whimper at the movement and you quickly captured his bottom lip in a light nibble. You whined quietly as he pulled away from the kiss, not yet untangling your fingers from his locks. “Come on, let's go home.” Hoseok said quietly, moving to help pull you up.
You shook your head, fighting the movement. You wanted, no, needed him now. You weren’t going to wait for however long it took you to walk home. You pulled him down into another kiss, this time growing much hotter. Your hands gripped his hair, tugging at the locks a little harsher this time, and deepened the kiss. Your tongue peaked into his mouth, tasting the remaining sweetness of the ice cream on his tongue.
Hoseok smirked against your lips as he pulled away. “That impatient?” He questioned in a teasing tone. He shook his head. “Such a needy baby.” He gently tugged you closer, tugging you into his lap after he sat on the ground. You could feel his growing erection against your heat, the thin shorts he had on covered absolutely nothing. You sighed at the feeling, rocking your hips forward in a slow grind as you leaned in for another kiss.
Hoseok gently cupped your face, taking control of the kiss this time. He kissed you a little too soft, a little too slow, just enough to keep you wanting more. Each time you tried to deepen the kiss, he pulled back slightly. He was teasing you, like a bird taunts a cat through the window. He did it for long enough to draw a needy whine out of your throat before he fully kissed you, capturing you in a red hot, messy kiss.
You moaned at the feeling, your hands reaching up to find purchase on his bare chest. You melted into the kiss, allowing Hoseok to paint your mouth with his tongue. His kisses were intoxicating, your brain buzzing with the feeling and taste of him. The subtle sweetness mixed with his natural taste was enough to soak your underwear.
“Couldn’t even let me finish my work,” Hoseok snaked his hand between the two of you, fingers dancing over your clothed center. “You were that desperate for my cock, hm?” He teased as he pushed your hair to the side with his other hand. His head dipped down to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck. “Such a needy little baby.”
“Hoseok,” You whimpered as he rubbed small circles over your clothed clit. Your hips twitched forward, searching for more friction. “Hobiii,” Your eyebrows furrowed together.
He hummed against your skin, trailing his tongue from the base of your neck up to your ear. “What is it, baby? What do you want?” He nibbled on the outside of your ear, a shiver snuck its way now your back at the sensation.
“You, I want you.”
Hoseok chuckled. “Be specific.”
Your ears grew hot. You could be specific. Tell him about how you want him to strip you naked and eat your pussy like it was his last meal, wanted him to sink his fingers deep into you and massage the spot that made you see stars. You could tell him how you wanted to ride him, bounce on his cock until you were shaking and out of breath.
But that isn’t what came out of your mouth. “I want you to fuck me, please, fuck me until I can’t walk.”
“Come on,” Hoseok withdrew his hand and bounced his leg to get you to stand. You stood up and followed Hoseok. He led you to the front of the room, straight in front of the large mirror that sprawled across most of the wall. He quickly grabbed his discarded shirt and folded it, placing it in front of the mirror. “On your hands and knees.”
You froze for a second before a smack on your ass made you jump. “I said, on your hands and knees, or do I need to force you?” Hoseok questioned. You quickly dropped to your knees, falling onto the shirt. You watched as Hoseok pulled his shorts and boxers off at once, kicking them across the floor. Saliva built up in your mouth as you stared at his cock, tip pretty pink and shiny with precum.
It wasn’t long before Hoseok dropped to his knees as well and pulled your pants down, the waistband settling in the crevices of your knees. “I want you to watch.” He gently tugged on your hair to make you pick up your head. You locked eyes in the mirror, your stomach fluttering with nerves as you watched him. Your arms shook as he placed a hand on your ass and used the other one to drag his cock up and down your pussy. You watched as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, admiring you. “Hobi, please,” You whimpered as you pushed back slightly, trying to get him to do something.
His hand pulled away before coming down again, a sharp smack sounding through the room. You winced as he rubbed his hand over the area, soothing the hot skin. “So needy,” He muttered under his breath as he teased your entrance with the tip of his cock before plunging in.
A moan ripped its way through your body as he settled into place. Your arms shook before crumpling under you, your cheek making contact with the cold floor. Hoseok gave you a few thrusts, hips moving with practiced ease, hitting every spot that made your eyes roll back. You whimpered with every movement.
Hoseok's grip tightened on your hip, pulling you back with each movement to meet him. His other hand trailed up your back, fingertips tickling the skin and making you wiggle with every touch. His hand landed under your shirt, skin hot and burning your back the longer it sat there. He stayed for a few moments before his hand retreated from under your shirt and moved over the fabric, finding its way up the back of your neck and into your hair. His fingers tangled into the locks, twisting them over his hand and tugging hard. A whimper flew out of your mouth as he tugged again, this time enough to get you to push back up to your hands and stay there.
“Good girl,” He growled out a small praise. “Look in the mirror, watch yourself.”
You were a mess. You caught a fuzzy glimpse of yourself in the mirror, the glass was fogging back up, moisture beading and dripping. Your lips were bitten red and glossy, the color matched the deep blush of your cheeks. Drool glistened and stained your chin, sweat dripped down your neck and painted the hickeys Hoseok had so graciously left on your neck. Your eyes were glassy and pupils blown, eyebrows furrowed together in pleasure.
Your eyes flickered to Hoseok, who was intensely watching your every move. An animalistic glint glossed over his eyes and a smirk painted his face as he delivered a particularly deep thrust. You tightened around him, watching as his jaw clenched and a groan pushed its way out of his body.
Every roll of his hips brought you closer and closer to your orgasm. The drag of his cock over your walls made your thighs shake. You pressed back in desperation, trying to get him impossibly closer, deeper. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gasped, chasing the high that was just out of reach.
“Poor baby, do you want to cum?” Hoseok wiggled his hips before stopping his movements, cock nestled deep in your pussy. “Pretty girl, are you close?” He released your hair, gently combing through the sweaty strands.
You whimpered and nodded. “Please, wanna cum.” You pushed back against him. The heat was dissipating with every second. “Please, Hoseok, I can’t.” You let out a broken moan.
“I wanna watch you do it, fuck yourself on my cock, baby.” He planted another smack on your ass.
Tears welled up in your eyes again as you tried to find a messy rhythm. You rocked yourself back on Hoseok’s cock, moving your hips in an attempt to hit the same spots he was. A frustrated whine left your lips as you desperately tried to chase your high back, the heat slowly building up once more in your abdomen.
You continued until you were out of breath and collapsed forward with a pathetic moan. “Too tired, baby?” Hoseok reached forward to gently stroke your hair. You gave a small nod. His features softened before his grip on your hips tightened. “You were so close, huh?” He rolled his hips forward once more. He clicked his tongue and let out a breath. “Do you want me to make you cum?”
You had never agreed to anything faster. Hoseok immediately picked up where he had left off, moving his hips in ways you could only dream of and hitting spots that made you see stars. His hands danced from your hips, snaking around until his fingers found your clit.
“Fuck, fuck,” A guttural moan ripped through your body. The heat in your abdomen grew as Hoseok rubbed the bundle of nerves. “I-i’m gonna cum, please don’t stop.”
“Cum for me, baby.” Hoseok grunted. The sound of his hips slapping against your ass grew louder. “Cum on my cock, I know you want to.”
“S-shit.” Your whole body shook as your orgasm washed over you, your pussy spasming around Hoseok's cock. Your vision went white and your ears began ringing as you let out a loud, pornographic moan.
You heard Hoseok let out a string of curse words, his hips stuttering forward in a messy rhythm. “Gonna fucking,” He let out a strangled moan, “Fill you up so good.” You gasped as he released, hot cum painting your insides. That alone was almost enough to push you into another orgasm, almost.
Hoseok stayed where he was for a few moments and drew small circles over the exposed skin on your lower back. “You ready?” He questioned softly. He waited for a hum of confirmation before slowly pulling out of you. The cum dripped down your thigh as you collapsed to the ground, groaning at the soreness in your muscles. You were thankful of the shirt Hoseok had placed below you, it had both saved your knees from more pain and was going to make for easier clean up.
Hoseok hushed you as he wiped you clean with the discarded shirt before wiggling your pants back up over your hips. He gave your ass a soft pat before moving to get redressed himself, digging through his bag to find a fresh t-shirt.
He wasn’t about to let you sleep on the floor, instead coaxing you up with promises of a nice bath and a head massage at home. He giggled and cooed over your tired expression as you stood up, dodging a playful slap from you at the teasing. Hoseok admired your features for a few moments longer before you two set off back home. He couldn’t believe you were his, his pretty baby.
#hoseok smut#jhope smut#hoseok imagine#hoseok fanfic#hoseok x reader#jhope x reader#jhope fanfic#bts smut#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts oneshot#hoseok oneshot#jhope one shot#jung hoseok smut#jung hoseok x reader#my writing#once again based on a dream i had
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[DC] 🎵How I find myself without you that I’ll never know, I let myself go🎵
#lyrics r from Honeybee by Steam Powered Giraffe🥺#I cried like 30 times while drawing these (I’m not joking I was fighting tears)#I’m pretty sure this is like the third post based on adventure comics 3 that I’ve done but I will never get over it. never#the second one was me practicing hugs bc hugs r the best but they r hard to draw#urghhh sorry my brainrot is soooo. it has a chokehold on me they r just very erm. relatable.#like the wanting just one person to believe in you and be by your side.#once I had a dream where I was on trial against the world and the only one who stuck w me was my bff…oughhh making myself cry again#clam draws#dc clamics#dc#tim drake#conner kent#timkon#kon el#kon el kent#my art#timkon fanart#ignore the tags I’m being sappy#kontent
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Chuuya Week Day 4 - Human
(Drawn for @chuuyaweek2024 ‘s Chuuya Week)
#there were like. No good references for arahabaki#like zero. had to go off of a single frame from the anime. the light novel description and a dream#its not even bipedal in canon#its described as quadrupedal but that wouldn’t fit in the mirror-#we take creative liberties in this household#if anything looks off. no it doesnt. thanks for coming to my ted talk#bsd#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bsd chuuya#bsd chuuya nakahara#bsd nakahara chuuya#bsd arahabaki#bsd fanart#chuuyaweek2024#chuuya week 2024#chuuyaweek24#chuuya week 24#(i am once again covering all my bases bc i have not learnt from last time and don’t know which is the correct one 👍)
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i fear that the undercover top secret government assassins are growing on me (cp9)
#I HAD ZERO THOUGHTS ABOUT THEM AT FIRST#IN FACT I WAS DEVASTATED THAT THE WATER 7 QUARTET WERE ACTUALLY CP9#BUT THEN??????? I READ CP9'S INDEPENDENT REPORT AND. I!?!??!?@?!?#the thoughts are endless ive been having one piece dreams every night for the past few days and they have all been cp9 related the brainrot#is so bad. i am sodgjkadhg#i love one piece there are so many characters with each new arc i get to i get some new characters to obsess over i love it i feel so alive#ive been fighting tooth and nail avoiding spoilers for the latest episode BUT GOD IM SO SO TEMPTED TO. TAKE A PEEK#anyways last night i was once again doing a wiki deep dive and i found some silly things on cp9's pages#JABRA AND LUCCI ARE THE SAME HEIGHT!!!!! THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY#CAN YOU IMAGINE?!?!?! the kid you've had beef with since he was 13 (maybe even earlier since lucci alreayd knew him when he was 6) who you#used to have a whole head over is now at eye level with you i would actually be so embarrased#KAKU IS FROM EAST BLUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS OS IMPORTANT ACTUALLY!! THE MOST IMPORATNT FACT EVER!!!!!!!!!!!#so he knows the strawhats are...also from the east blue right?!? right??????! and ik the wg steals these kids early on to train them so i#doubt he has lingering attachments to his home sea but i still think this so both so so sad and so important :'((#also not getting over how oda's depiction of tiny kaku has him holding a toy boat BC ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!?! ARE YOU K IDDING ME#kalifa and jabra's favourite dishes are both lamb based!!!!!!!!! silly because her animal motif is a sheep haha#BUT ALSO considering how her father was also cp9 and she's probably been conditioned since birth to also follow his footsteps and how jabra#holds seniority in the current lineup id like to think that these two have known each other a very long time and there were influences#the most dysfunctional fcked up family ever. cp9#blueno and jabra are both from the north blue!!!!!!!!!!!!! and that one falshbakc we see that the two of them plus 6year old lucci trained#together but also it would be so fcked up if the two actually knew of each other before being roped into the governemnt#idk how the wg works do they just??? routinely scout around and pick up a bunch of kids ata time???? were jabra and blueno taken together??#also wondering if ... kalifa jabra and kumadori knew each other the longest as fellow agents or soemthing#i feel like im entertaining a gazillion thoughts all at once its so hard ot balance but we know both kalifa nad kumadori have#parents in the governemnt/assassin profession that also influenced them right#idk maybe one thing they can bond over#cp9 to me is just a fucked up family of some sort. they are not found family they are like some weird forged family where they were all#forced together and somehow made it work and they all love lucci and care for his wellbeing enough to raise all that money to get him to a#doctor and they cared about each other enough to get off enies lobby together without leaving anyone behind and they went cafe hopping and#shopping and bowling together and they all care for each other in their own way
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some things are best left hidden.
#i am once again asking you to ignore the watermark#weirdcore#fleshcore#the spiraling flesh#unreality#this was based on a dream i had lol
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ALRIGHT LET’S TALK ABOUT BLUBBORNE!!
Here are a list of things to choose from <3
Chat about Logarius or Alfred!!
Ideas for Bloodborne 2 👀
What do you think about Hemwick being connected to Cainhurst?
Talk about Gilbert!! I never get to see you chat about him! Lil guy!
Ideas on Arianna’s backstory!
Ideas on Adella’s backstory!
What would a Discord with the original Byrgenwerth scholar gang look like?? xD
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Choose one or all! It’s up to you!! <3
Oh my GOSH fjdhfds Good to know you all headed my warning to never give me a choice because I answer EVERYTHING, huh -_- xD But in all seriousness though, these topics just happen to be those I do not have 20 pages essay ready for, so my answers will be short(ish) and I think I can discuss all this stuff in compact manner!
Chat about Logarius or Alfred!!
Well, they're complicated characters for me. You know I am physically unable to 'hate' a fictional character because no matter what they did, they aren't real and can't hurt me and if all else fails they exist to make the story better. But because of some events and reflection on life and society, these two in particular put a pit in my stomach on the notion of being trademark catholic-coded purists. There are so many things that can be speculated about complexity of Laurence's or Adrich's situations, but these guys feel pretty plain for me? The black-white thinking bastards that got so tempted with the idea of abolishing all evil that it made them ruthless, blind to nuances and purist that can't see how they become the REAL evil in the end.
I think Logarius/Rogeriusz is fairly underrated though and it cannot be blamed on him being unlikeable from moral standpoint, because we've all seen how popular Alfred is despite graphically killing a defenceless woman! But Logarius has a lot to like as a villain - he is noticeably tall and menacing, he was a powerful leader figure in Healing Church like Ludwig, he has a lot of mystery to his character as to why he uses Pthumerian magic and shares theme with Queen Yharnam (and as follows, why would he turn against a kindred clan/bloodline?), and what he discovered that made him gatekeep it? Besides, there is a translation mistake calling an item 'Skull of a Saint' something else - 'Sage's Hair', and when I discovered the proper description ( x ), I realised there is a big implication that following Healing Church's saints were wearing crowns after his raid on Cainhurst - both to honor him and to boast about having thrown the local monarchy!
This is just very odd that Logarius was a pioneer of the delusion about exterminating 'impurity', and managed to hit da briks before he became hated and showed true nature of his pursuit - unlike poor Ludwig that presumably had better intentions and less freedom to see through WHAT was guiding him, yet fought long enough to become accursed by everyone. It is UNFAIR. But Logarius is such an important element in the system, as a trend-setter rather than people brainwashed into following Church's agenda! Willem is never addressed for messing with unknown too, Logarius is never addressed for being ideal inspirer of hate and murder... Guess the REAL martyr here is Laurence every time! xD
Alfred is also a hard one for me, as for someone from the country that actively fabricates history facts, encourages distrust to outer information and ignorance, and just straight up lies with agenda. Like, sure, I am familiar with how easy average person can fall for a narrative - and how easy it is to discourage any skepticism and critical thinking before it formed. If anything, I pity him.
But I've grown to feel even more tense about this character when I reflected on the fact that he is SO eager to exterminate the 'enemy' that he goes after ones who can't even CAUSE any harm (he wants to kill Annalise who is absolutely defeated and defenceless, and he is the only summon in Old Yharnam where beasts that won't go outside live). There is a difference between trying to protect people from the possible threats (since whether vilebloods DO have cursed magic effect is up to interpretation) and "cleansing" the world from anyone affiliated Just Because. I've been doing Adella dirty for a long time calling her 'female Alfred' and I had since took it back because she at least gives Arianna a 'chance' as long as she doesn't share her blood that Adella's religion forbids. Not even one - she did the "three strikes and you're out"! Alfred is ruthless tho, in a very uncomfortable way, but it took me some unpleasant experiences to SEE truth about him. I think that no matter how far up you are in a religion, but whether you have a braincell to extend minimal reasoning about WHY you are fighting the 'bad guys' is on the individual and not on the source of this brainwashing, and Alfred fails this test.
That being said, he is still an interesting character, and I really love his unique appearance! His nose is a whole BEAK xD /pos I also headcanon that Alfred never met Logarius in person and his bond with him is parasocial, based on admiring the great person of the past upon feeling like he 'knows' him! The same applies for my versions of Amelia/Emilia and Laurence!
The rest of the topics are going under cut!
Ideas for Bloodborne 2 👀
Honestly, I think the best one I've seen executing the concept was HollarityArt in their contribution for Vaati's Bloodborne 2 concepts contest! Here is the link on Twit with their concepts: ( x ).
I have very little ideas on this but I agree that part 2 would be the best placed in sea/ocean setting! But the MOST tricky thing about the sequel would be that one of the potential Bloodborne endings is our Hunter becoming the new Great One that governs the cycle, instead of Flora. And another one is them replacing Gehrman. So the sequel must deal with addressing how no matter WHICH ending player had in Bloodborne, it didn't matter! Basically, something should happen with Hunter's Dream or the current Moon Presence that would leave any ending still palatable. So, addressing the current 'queen' Great One would result in the cycle still ongoing (aka our Hunter as Great One inflicting the same cycle, so it is not possible to pin whether Flora is still active or Hunter is). And, sure, for some reason, the Hunter's Dream is broken, just so we could not see our Hunter from previous game. This is extremely depressing, but feels in the spirit of From's games.
What From would need to do with Bloodborne 2 is to add information that doesn't quite confirm or deny exist fan theories, but instead adds more to WORK with! And creates MORE questions. So, reveal extra details about what we see in Bloodborne, but in a way that didn't answer the question. As in 'yeah there was a Great One counterpart for Flora', 'yeah there was someone in Isz that did birth Ebrietas as little celestial larvae many centuries ago, here is her statue and nothing else', 'yeah look at the ruins of the waking world version of Fishing Hamlet' etc. Some characters I think should reappear but in a way that feels expected while also not REALLY telling us anything new. So, Queen Yharnam not in the wedding dress, Gehrman functioning like his hunter self (like I said, Hunter's Dream should get broken), Maria having her recollected memory from when she was a caretaker of Research Hall, Adeline in a Kin form somewhere in a secret nook of Sea location (presume she ascended with or without Paleblood Hunter).
I like the idea that Yharnam in the sequel is a ghost town that has no messenger lamps or huntsmen, only rare NPCs and enemies who are largely people and/or Kin of the type we haven't seen before. Yharnam would have a bigger layout that makes much more sense geographically, some buildings and areas would look notably different if not more civilised. So that'd return the question whether Yharnam we play in even WAS real or this sequel Yharnam simply the same but changed from the last time, so people can argue whether this Yharnam is "real" and not "dreamed" one or developers simply improved their mapping and designing skills xD Maria would be able to travel there with us by waking up in the body of the Doll that still stayed in Old Workshop, and many people in Yharnam would act hostile towards both her and the player; later in the plot turns out that Hunter's Dream breaking was the result of external powers, and roaming people and unfamiliar Kin work together and target to remove the traces of influence from Stars and Moon! They'd be more alien Kin that urged to help with grasp of Flora and Fauna had on the Earth and its mortals, but in reality more or less want to establish their order. But protesting them would restart the cycle of vices of humanity, so... yeah, again, the game would be depressing and point out how there is no choice, only diverse ways to suck.
I also think the next game should extend beyond Yharnam, and using a ship to travel between locations would be a cool idea! Maybe getting to visit Valtr's home, or whatever Loran is now. @val-of-the-north had an idea that there is a legit country known as New Loran, but it would reveal more about history and heritage than just a bunch of electric beasts and sand. If I try to describe more concepts I might get really sucked into this swamp, so I'll leave it be here, but meeting relatives of some characters we've known would be great too! I always have this image in my head about Valtr's niece that heard he chased some monster and never came back, so we meet her when she is an adult that wanted to investigate on the mystery of her uncle. Also learning more about the fuckery Micolash and Laurence did do in the past through item descriptions; again, in a way that actually doesn't disrupt anything, more like 'well we already knew they had to commit a lot of crimes, we just now know the details'. The war criminals are still here in spirit! xD
What do you think about Hemwick being connected to Cainhurst?
Well, I said that sometime before, but I do think that both Cainhurst nobles and Hemwick are mixed human+pthumerian (and sometimes just human) descendants that preserved a lot of practices from ancient Pthumerian civilisations... and matriarchal traditions, too. They have different practices, as Vilebloods use blood magic and consume blood for power, whereas Witches use magical binding rituals, necromancy and disturbing tools as well. Ironic that they had 'Blood vs Eyes' conflict of Blood vs Arcane Healing Church factions before it was cool, don't you think?
Yharnam used to be monarchy but so many foreigners and neighbouring cities rubbed in on the area, that they became practically equal with higher class Yharnam citizens, and had to count people like Willem as equal. Maybe if Healing Church didn't form so swiftly, Yharnam would never have a mayor. But yeah, basically, Witches were something of peasants in relation to Cainhurst nobles. But they cooperated enough, and Witches would often offer medical help to the nobles who entered trouble with the curse living within their blood, or struggled to control pyromancy upon first periods. Witches maybe lived in poverty and dirt without much convenience, down to having to pay taxes TO Cainhurst, but they have unspoken knowledge within themselves that they are, in fact, superior to the nobles, as they have better grasp on the arcane secrets and are waaaaay less helpless before supernatural. I believe Iosefka and Fauxsefka are from Cainhurst, and Witches were how Iosefka studied ways to purify the blood from Frenzy + Beasthood inducing effects. Why that practice never picked up? Because we live in a society, indeed.
Talk about Gilbert!! I never get to see you chat about him! Lil guy!
Ahhhh right! I just didn't have much reason I guess? I do have a face design for him, that features some facial skewing like many Yharnamites have!
Like his beasthood form suggests, he was afflicted with Ashen Blood, which I believe was not a planned action but an honest mistake by using the blood of a poisoned beast (Blood-Starved Beast crucified in Old Yharnam). However, back in the day where Yharnam was not quarantined away from the rest of the world (to the point you are not supposed to SURVIVE being there if you never had holy blood transfusion), there were plenty of people picking stuff up and illegally selling it abroad. @val-of-the-north has an idea that Valtr and his friends caught one of such groups, just when one of them transformed into a beast upon getting too much of his own "medicine" and I stealeded it xD
But Gilbert I think was a victim of one of such things, contracting Ashen Blood by consuming a poisoned "medicine". He never was able to connect the dots between getting worse after it as someone who already had his own illnesses. The more I learn about Victorian era, the more I realise how shockingly ignorant they were about medicine. I mean, they were having mercury pills for god knows how long! So, yeah, he saught Yharnam, and naturally had his strange sympthomes sustained by consuming the blood as someone who got beasthood 'activated'.
I like to think that he used to be a hatter, and it WAS what made him sick initially; they were number 1 victims for mercury poisoning, because of the materials used in their craft. However, it were not just hats that he could do well, and after arriving in Yharnam, he gladly worked to produce more clothes, sewing mostly Yharnam Hunter garbs obsessively! And is one of the rarest people who met Ludwig in person and is still around AND sane! Hence how he had his Flamethrower - the Healing Church shared one with him to help him to self-defend. But, he was out of use and got too sick before he got to kill even one. Being bedridden, he used to read books a lot, until his eyesight got afflicted too (apparently beasthood attacks the eyes the most), so he mostly entertains himself with fantasies and reciting memories.
Ideas on Arianna’s backstory!
Heh, like I said already, I love the idea that her mother ran with her from Cainhurst when Arianna was still a baby, so she never GOT to know the noble life. But, she did inherit her mother's noble dress, and vague idea about their blood being special enough to offer to the hunters. I entertain the idea that Alfred was Arianna's brother but had to be abandoned since he was older and their mother could only care for one child in the hard situation, but it is up in the air.
In either case, Arianna's mother died soon(ish), most likely from violent death. But instead of some Church fanatic killing her in "righteous" wrath, it was that her mother went insane unable to consume queen's blood or find any management for it, so she, like... had Vileblood version of becoming blood-drunk and was shot before she transformed into a bloodlicker completely. When she was about to turn on her own daughter to drink her blood dry, no less! The hunter that saved Arianna was Henryk, who picked every other orphaned child under his protection because he was aware Choir takes orphans and they are never seen again. I swear, at least once Choir had to confront him about whether his children are all 'really' his, and Valtr had to wear a dress and pretend to be their biological bother dsjfhdsfdsh
But for the most part he was not able to properly care for his adopted babies; Viola was exceptional case that stayed close enough. Most of the orphans under his protection were wandering around looking for their purpose, and Arianna was like this. She clinged to Crow of Cainhurst, trusting him as the only remaining hook with her Cainhurst past, but he did not feel qualified or interested enough to play a dad for her - something he regretted upon meeting Arianna again years later and seeing WHAT she has to do to survive.
I also think that Arianna reacting on female Hunter differently is not a homophobia (?) internalised in Yharnam, but remains of her mom teaching her that women are "superior"; she speaks from the standpoint that she doesn't pity men all that much, but would dread to 'dirty' a woman with something as questionable as a loveless sex. It is not something beyond her that men will be like animals, but she feels inferior compared to other women, and it really gets to her.
Ideas on Adella’s backstory!
Likewise an orphaned person. When she reached puberty, she was this 👌 close to attempting to sell her body, like Arianna, before she managed to get herself a place in the Healing Church. It happened on the rift when Choir fell from uhhh... "grace"?, as well as the daughter of the current Vicar, Norbert/Herbert, turned into a celestial kin together with the children she was overseeing there. As result, he was compensating by picking up every other child/teenager and raising them within the Healing Church's walls like an actually good dad figure. He saw how Adella was doing and basically dragged her in (punching the old bastard that did want to use her on the way).
The decision to become a Blood Saint and not just part of the staff was her own, though; she bought the narrative about hunters being brave and protecting people while it was choking out its dying breaths but still existing. So, she wanted to help people.
Localisation slightly messed this up, by making it sound as though Adella has severe insecurities regarding the quality of her blood, but that's not quite the case:
Whereas the religious 'we all must admit we are sinful by nature and should bash ourselves all of our lives' vibe might apply, within the original context it seems to be that she is insecure about having to do it in 'battlefield' conditions rather than in the setting of great religious reverence it SHOULD be. Like, all she does is extracts her own blood in a vial. She only talks with us in Yahar'gul if we convince her we are Healing Church staff too; so, she still thinks we ARE one of their hunters. It seems like internal Healing Church rules about 'proper' blood sharing are what makes her feel "vulgar", not her blood overall.
Adella mentions a friend she could possibly turn to during the night of the hunt if we refuse to tell her of the safe place, and I made it be a person you pick black church garb from in the alley where Arianna is. It is a shrodinger character, of course, because it is a gendered set, but I default all sets to 'male' because default Paleblood Hunter is some guy with grey hair and I love using this as "official" option! The window NPCs in this area mention "thanking" the Church in a rather passive-aggressive and fake manner, that makes me feel like the guy was killed here out of spite. I think he is Adella's EX that she still keeps clinging to, and... well, he was in this area because he wanted to help Arianna by telling her of a safe place, as he had a bad feeling about this night. Again, irony.
What would a Discord with the original Byrgenwerth scholar gang look like?? xD
Pfffft you mean if they made a small group Discord server for familiar people only? Laurence would be a moderator, that nobody asked for, because it is a small (mostly) closed Discord group and not an official server... But he'd insist on bringing some discipline and civility anyway.
Server would have expected standard channels for drawings, research notes, general chat, jokes/memes, debates, Rom's (daily) pictures of the bugs and spiders, vent and announcements... Except, they would have to create more and more debate channels all the time, because every time it'd be either Caryll and Laurence, or Micolash and Julie cluttering the debate channel so much and refusing to stop. xD Like, they'd have to spawn new debate channels just so other people could have a talk too sdfhhdfds
Damian would share health / self-care advices regularly, like "don't forget to hydrate!" or "10 advices to avoid studying burn out!" and tell others to stay safe and not overwork. Unfortunately, nobody follows his advices. He also always answers everyone in vent channel.
Rom tends to overwhelm any channel when she is online by spamming whatever she is thinking about, but nobody tries to stop her because she tends to accidentally drop something useful, like a solution to the homework, or a significant breakthrough. They have a locked channel accessible for everyone except for Rom and Yurie/Julie, where they discuss Rom's ramblings as they happen and decide what to take from her without credit :(
Micolash sometimes has mad ramblings, similar to Rom but HIS are unhinged and genuinely creepy and disturbing. They have a locked channel accessible for everyone except for Micolash, Damian and Rom, where they laugh at his wording or mock how weird he is :(
Patches is only active in the server to promote the shit he's selling or questionable links, but if anyone gets scammed and calls him out on the server, he gaslights them that he did them all a favour and showed with a concrete example how important it is to know basics of the internet safety xD And might accept their apology for getting mad at him, if he's feeling nice fhshfdhsfds
Thank you for asking! It was a trip dshfhds
#bloodborne#ask replies#bloodborne headcanons#multi character post#i don't even know what else to say ahahahah#you probably know the root of what really made me feel uneasy about alfred so#yet again the point proven that the more bad experiences you had the better you can understand bloodborne lore#but yeah logarius is always ignored like willem#let laurence share guilt with willem and logarius you cowards!!!!!#damn i got some insight about adella during answering it though.... good for her#points of interest about adella when???#fun fact: tho i described the sequel as barebones i actually base it off the impression i had in a dream once#also in that dream maria had somewhat of a grudge towards gehrman#like he was stalking her from around the corner anime yandere style and i was like hey who is following you#and she was like 'probably nobody important'#the same dream where rom was pregnant from SIMON for SOME fucking reason#but i would never recommend the sequel to face reveal previously mysterious characters so yeah....#ironic that my brain paired protector of the secrets and seeker of the secrets ahahaha
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Caught the dreamer like a fly.
#lbp#PLEASE stop reblogging the super old art we've got a 2022 one now#this is based on a dream#see i NEVER. not once. have had dreams continue from where they left off#UNTIL. A WEEK AGO. I HAD ONE WITH VEX. TRYING TO CATCH ME.#when i got caught i instantly woke up.#went back to sleep. he knew i got away and instantly came after me. i woke up again#have not had more since. god dammit tbh.
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I read UHHH fuck it, whatever comic it is that has a story for each of the Endless siblings, and GOD I love Despair and Delirium especially. It was also fascinating to see where Dream and Desire's feud ultimately started - and to discover that Desire was briefly Dream's favourite sibling.
#( ooc. )#I'm low-key considering adding Despair to the multimuse but she'd be comics-based only.#The Netflix Despair is so fucking disappointing holy SHIT.#I keep remembering a dream I had once about two made-up Endless siblings called Devastation and...#Fuck. What was the other one.#DESERTION that was it.#Maybe one day I'll commit the cardinal sin of making some Endless OCs.#Or pseudo-Endless at least - kind of like the TMA entities yknow??#Like subgroups.#Anyway it's mostly Max again I think. Not sure what's up with us. But I Am Here and it's nice to exist.#We really do need to get ourselves a proper pen name though.
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#Ever wonder what happened to the protag from BW?#Good job old man#you've done it again#My artstyle sucks in this because I was in a hurry#either way my artstyle still sucks because I don't draw with a stylus#Based off of a vivid dream-turned-sleep paralyzing nightmare I once had#pokemon#legends arceus#tw injury#tw death#tw gore#tw blood
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 1 - The Introduction
Summary: Captain Price has been fighting the requests to add an omega to his team until those requests become commands. You find yourself traveling half a world away to join a pack of highly trained soldiers to balance out their dynamic. Not all of them are quite so happy about your arrival, but you're a good omega who does as you're told.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, brief moments of panic on the reader's side, scenting, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.
Author's Note: I couldn't help it and I've found myself falling into the Call of Duty brainrot once again so here I am to bless you with some poly 141 a/b/o goodness. It's just part 1, I promise things will get better as the story goes along.
MASTERLIST | Next ->
“I don’t like this.”
“Believe me, John, I know. But the higher ups are putting a lot of pressure on us with this initiative and I’ve pushed back as much as I can. They’re convinced it will be good for morale and team dynamics.”
He wants to protest, but he’s been protesting this idea for three months. “What more can you tell me about her?”
“Not much that isn’t already in her file.” Her tone is not lost on him. She can, but that’s not a conversation to be held over the phone. “She’s quiet and polite, a bit jumpy but she relaxes once she gets to know you. Remember, I picked her out myself.”
That doesn’t make him feel any better.
He flips through the file again after he hangs up with Laswell. He almost has it memorized by now, having looked through time and time again since the letter was dropped on his desk three months ago.
He stares at the photo, the headshot taken by the institute in her file. She’s cute, as most omegas are. American, but she had grown up on military bases. At least this world wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to her. He grimaces as he looks over her DOB below the photo. She’s young, younger than he would have liked, but at least she was old enough to drink.
He sighs through his nose as he flips through her records. She’s been in the institute for nearly ten years, likely sent as soon as she presented. He flips through page after page of test results, notes from her instructors, personality and temperament analysis, essays and essays worth of information written on her and also by her. He didn’t care so much about what her instructors thought, he was more interested in her.
“Christ.” He breathes as he pauses on the page with her statistics, rubbing his eyes. The file has everything in it, down to heat tracking and her early signs it was starting.
As if he doesn’t have enough to worry about, now he’s going to have an omega under his care.
He hasn’t considered taking an omega in well over a decade. Back when he had been young and reckless, he had once considered starting his own pack, but then his career in the military began to take off and he let that dream go. It became too dangerous, and he had seen many times what happened to omegas who were left behind during deployments for too long.
His team didn’t need an omega. He had briefly considered it in the beginning as they adjusted to the new dynamics, but he knew it was too dangerous and their schedules were far too unpredictable for the sort of stability omegas needed. He had fought time and time again against the push to add an omega to the team. They had settled into their roles easily, and operated perfectly fine with the missing dynamic.
Then the Omega Initiative was born and he found himself with no grounds to refuse anymore. Task Force 141 was getting an omega whether they wanted one or not.
He can’t help the tickle in the back of his mind that something else might be going on. He flips back to the first page, staring at the omega’s photo. They’d be here in a week. She’d be flying with Laswell to London where she’d be given a few days to adjust before they’d fly in here and she’ll be left with her new pack.
Price closes the file, leaning back in his chair. He has a lot to do in the next week.
You stare down at the files laid out on the table. Four of them, hardly more than a single page each, most of which was blacked out. They’re all older than you, their birth years at least visible to you. Most of the things on the file you don’t understand, and you weren't even sure how tall they were since you can’t convert meters to feet in your head.
You’re tired and on edge, nervous about tomorrow when you'd meet your new pack. You sit back in your seat, letting out a long breath.
“I know.” Station Chief Laswell, Kate as you had been told to call her, takes the seat across from you. “You’re going to have to get used to hearing the word classified. What they tell you about themselves is, of course, up to them, but the things they do, the places they go, even with your security clearance as high as it is, that will all still be-”
“Classified?” You finish for her.
Kate smiles. “Exactly. It’s mostly for your safety. The less you know...”
The less there is to make you a target.
You’d been given that speech before you left D.C. You’d been given a lot of briefings, as Kate had called them, since you had been pulled into the director’s office at The Institute and told to pack your bag. You remembered Kate and the interview you had done a few days prior. It hadn’t been any different than the other interviews you’d done before, except that you were chosen this time.
What had come after was three months of intense briefings and training, for what, you hadn’t really known at the time. They had told you little, at least until last week when Kate pulled you into her office and told you what was happening and why it was happening and where you were going.
“You don’t have anything to worry about, though.” Kate continues, something you’ve been told over and over again during your briefings. “They’re all good men. John and I know each other well. I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you could handle them.”
You continue to stare at the files. Two alphas, two betas. It wasn’t an unusual pack, evenly balanced, except for the missing omega. If the situation were different they may have elected to have two omegas to keep the even balance. This wasn’t a normal situation, though. This was a military pack, special forces at that. It wasn’t unusual for packs to form on bases, especially those stationed together for long periods of time. Alphas and betas united together with one purpose, one collective goal.
That was why so many alphas were drawn to the military.
That, and the excuse for violence.
Omegas weren’t allowed to enlist, omegas weren’t allowed to hold many jobs at all. It was usually only in special circumstances, and even then, they were more likely to be assigned into a pack than be allowed to work and care for themselves. In a lot of ways you were lucky. You wouldn’t have to fight to find a pack, fight to find a match, fight for one of the few decent alphas left in the world. Your road had been chosen for you as soon as you presented.
In a lot of ways, though, things were worse for you.
“How do you feel?” Kate asks, looking you over. You’ve grown to like the beta Station Chief in the weeks you’ve spent together.
“Tired.” You run a hand across your face.
“The time difference will do that to you.” Kate says, giving you a sympathetic look. “Not to mention everything else.” Kate stands, stacking the files and pushing them to the center of the table. “I have a couple more errands to run, so get some rest. I’ll pick us up some dinner on the way back.”
You look nervous.
He can’t blame you. He’d felt a bit of a nervous twist to his stomach this morning as he’d finished ensuring everything was in place. He doesn’t often get nervous anymore, years and years of experience giving him the ability to expect anything and react accordingly.
This is different, though. This isn’t a soldier he’s greeting, this is an omega.
His omega.
As Pack Alpha he had more of a claim to you than anyone else. It was his mark you’d wear, his scent that everyone would notice first. It was his duty to protect you, to ensure you have everything you need. You’re not another member of his team, you’re not even a soldier. You’re just a poor civilian that’s been thrust into this world of danger and secrecy.
“Captain Price.” Laswell greets him, shaking his hand.
He greets her back, but he can’t help his gaze as it flickers to the omega. You’re small, as expected of an omega. Your sweatshirt hides most of your curves, but your jeans hug your full thighs. Most omegas are small and soft, designed to be held and healthy enough to bear children when cared for correctly.
He doesn’t even want to think about that.
Laswell introduces you, your feet shuffling a bit as you step forward toward him. Coming from an institute, you likely hadn’t had much contact with alphas before now. You try to stand taller, look braver as you stand before him, but he can smell the tangy edge of anxiety surrounding your scent.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say, shaking his hand. It’s small and warm in his, your skin soft and slightly clammy.
“The pleasure is mine.” He says, releasing your hand.
You let it drop to your side, pulling your sleeve down over your fingers. You shift on your feet, your body language betraying your nervousness. Hunched shoulders, fingers tugging your sleeves over your hands, shifting your weight foot to foot as if you might take off running at a moment’s notice. Your eyes dart across the airfield taking in the movement around them. You’re on edge, alert, and likely a little overwhelmed.
“I’ll show you around and let you get settled.” He says, his eyes shifting to Laswell. “You and I have some things to discuss.”
You follow behind him with Laswell as he leads you towards the building that served as the 141’s home base. He points out different places you might find yourself visiting. The gym, the rec area, the mess hall, and finally their barracks. He leads you down the hallway where their rooms were located, pointing out each door before he gets to yours, sandwiched between his own and Gaz’s, with Soap and Ghost on the other side.
He opens the door, letting you enter. He stays in the doorway, letting you explore the small space. Your bags had been brought in, the faint hint of the beta Corporal that had brought them in still lingering in the air. There’s four shirts folded neatly on the desk, one from each of them that they’d slept in for the last couple days to give you a chance to get used to their scents.
“The lads are still running a simulation, but they’ll be done within the hour.” He says, drawing your gaze from the bed. “We’ll let you get settled in and I’ll come get you when they’re ready.”
“Thank you, sir.” You say.
Laswell steps in as he steps away for a moment, letting the two of you say your goodbyes. You’d likely see Laswell again, and soon, but he knows after three months you’ll have bonded with her just a bit.
Price leads Laswell to his office after she leaves your room, his ears picking up the sound of the lock clicking into place as they walk away. He’d left it on for a reason, wanting to give you the ability to feel safe and secure as you adjusted, even though you had nothing to worry about.
“So.” Price says as he sits behind his desk, reclining back in his seat. “What can you really tell me about her?”
Laswell gives him a knowing look. “The CIA has had their eyes on her for years now. The Omega Initiative as it is now, isn’t how it started. They were going to train omegas as agents, and she was one of the first names on that list. They had FIOT put a hold on her file once she came of age.”
Federal Institute of Omega Training. The name was stamped on the front of your file. It was the highest rated institute in America, the place where most omegas born to politicians, government workers, and some military went.
“They had agents go in and pretend to be interested parties just to make it seem like there was interest in her.” Laswell continues. “But, you know omegas aren’t cut out for this kind of work, so they changed the Initiative. She was still at the top of the list, but there were some...hesitations as to where to place her.”
“What sort of hesitations?” He asks.
“You saw those scores, John. She’s a good omega. Those purebred instincts are strong, and that makes her an easy target.”
Most omegas born from an alpha/omega pairing were good at listening to their instincts. That was why they carried such a high standing, even among omegas. But, being so closely intune with their instincts made them more sensitive, more vulnerable. They were more likely to give in to an alpha, if the alpha knew how to play them right.
Laswell pulls a file from her bag, sliding it across his desk to him. “She’d get walked all over in a larger pack, and the last thing she needs is to get hurt by an overbearing alpha.” There’s something hidden in Laswell’s words, his mind filing that away for later. “I need someone I can trust with her. She’s smart, learns fast. She needs a challenge, but also someone that won’t take advantage of her.”
“It sounds like you’ve grown rather fond of her.” He says, flipping open the first page of the file. It’s the CIA’s data on her, everything they’d done in the last three months to prepare her for her life as a Special Operations pack omega.
“Like I said, I’m the one that picked her for your team.” Laswell leans forward against his desk. “She knows what she’s in for. She was well prepared for this kind of life. She’ll let you mark her, no questions asked because that’s what she’s been told to do. She’s obedient, John, almost to a fault.”
“That could be dangerous.” Price says.
“Yes, it could.” Laswell says. “I’m leaving her in your capable hands. She has my number, and so do you.”
Price walks her back to the airfield, his head reeling a bit as he replays their conversation over and over. The hidden messages in Laswell’s words aren’t lost on him, and his gut feeling that something else was going on had been correct.
“Take care of her, John.” Laswell says. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you.”
He hasn’t failed her yet.
Your body is tingling. You’re not sure if it’s nerves or something else. You haven’t been around an alpha since the day of your presentation, when you had been pulled from your home and taken to the institute. You had nearly wanted to keel over when you came face to face with Captain Price. Your alpha. He’s a commanding presence, the tickling at the back of your neck still not quite gone even though the door is shut and locked.
The bed is comfortable, not any worse than what you slept on in the institute. There’s extra pillows and blankets stacked at the end, likely for your nest when you finally settled enough to make one. The door to the private bathroom is cracked open, facing the end of the bed. There’s four shirts on the desk next under the window next to the bathroom door, and your bags are sitting in front of the dresser and closet situated on the opposite wall from the bed.
You push yourself to stand, ignoring the way your legs wobble as you stare down at the four shirts on the desk. They’re all olive green, folded neatly in the exact same way. You wouldn’t have known any different, except for the scents gently wafting from them, and the names on the tags.
Price. You pick up the one that will be the most familiar, bringing it to your nose. Tobacco smoke, aftershave, something sharp like whiskey. All things you had scented on him in your short time together. Underneath you catch a whiff of his natural scent. Something woody, fresh. A tingle crawls up your spine, prickling in the back of your neck again. You drop the shirt on the desk, taking a step back to breathe in the unscented air for a moment.
You’re breathing heavily as you go for the shirt next to Price’s. Garrick. You press the shirt against your nose, inhaling. Aftershave, different from Price’s. Some kind of lotion. Coconut oil maybe? You can’t pick up more than the base scent of beta, the soothing almondy scent.
You take another deep inhale of it, letting the beta scent ease you before you let it drop to the desk beside Price’s. You grab the one next to it, looking at the tag. MacTavish. You lift it to your face, scenting another aftershave. There’s something citrusy mixed in as well, slightly watered down compared to the scent of the aftershave. Again, you can’t pick up more than the scent of beta, letting it ease the tickling on the back of your neck again before you let it drop back on the desk.
One more to go.
You pick up the last shirt. Ghost. The faceless one. You bring the shirt to your nose, wincing slightly at the sharp tang of gunpowder and metal, smoke and a lingering aftershave. You try to smell deeper, but your nose burns with scent blocker spray. You let out a huff, dropping it back onto the desk.
This Ghost was dedicated to his anonymity.
He’s going to be a problem.
You sink back onto the bed, eyeing the shirts. Your senses have heightened, picking up the scents wafting off of them, mixing in the air. You pick up the sound of boots approaching, three pairs of feet making their way down the hall. You can hear them talking and laughing as they approach. There’s a pause outside your door and you hold your breath, sitting as still as possible.
Of course they can smell you. You had sprayed yourself down with scent blockers before you left the hotel, but it had likely worn off by now. Even with the blocker, the scent of unmated omega wasn’t hidden easily. The entire base had probably caught a whiff of your scent by now. Caramel, vanilla, strawberries with the undertone of pure omega that made alphas go insane.
“Coming, Si?”
Your lungs burn as you hold your breath, and for a moment you’re afraid your heartbeat might be audible from how hard it’s pounding. Steps recede from your door and you don’t breathe until they’ve disappeared.
You decide to unpack to keep your mind busy as you wait. You don’t have much, mostly clothes from the institute and toiletries. You don’t even have a photo of your family, that part of your life behind you. You put your clothes away, venturing into the small bathroom to put away your toiletries. There’s towels already inside, along with a few things like shampoo and soap. They’re all scentless, like the things you had brought from the institute.
Nothing that could dampen your natural scent.
You almost don’t hear the knock on the door, lost in your own thoughts. You take a steadying breath, hand hesitating over the lock. What if it wasn’t Price? What if it wasn’t anyone from your new pack?
“Just me.” Price’s voice comes through the door.
Of course he would notice your hesitation. He’s a trained soldier, he’s always going to be aware of his surroundings. You unlock the door, opening it slowly.
Price greets you with a small smile, your nose picking up the scent of his aftershave and the lingering scent of tobacco smoke now that you’re attune to it. “They’re ready, if you are.” He says.
You nod. “Yeah, I guess.” It wasn’t like you had much of a choice to say no.
You slip out the door, closing it behind you. You’d ditched your sweatshirt, wearing a scoop-necked shirt to give them easy access for the scenting. Price leads you down the hallway, back towards his office. You’re not quite sure what to expect, the nervous twisting in your stomach coming back.
“I thought we’d do it in a meeting room.” Price says, likely picking up on the change in your scent. “Somewhere neutral.”
It’s smart, it’ll keep you from getting too overwhelmed by other scents or sounds. The last thing you need to do is panic and send them all into a spiral. Talk about a first impression.
Price pauses outside a door, looking down at you. His gaze is kind, almost sympathetic as you take a deep breath. “Ready?”
Not really, but you wouldn’t dare say that. You have to do this, and the sooner you got the awkward part over with, the easier things will get. You nod, hands tugging nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “Yes, sir.”
Price opens the door, stepping in first. You’re glad for the few moments you’re hidden behind him as the scents in the room slam into you. Alpha and two betas, scents you recognize from their shirts. They stand as Price enters, and for a moment you want to stay hidden behind the alpha but you know you have to be brave. You were made for this. The words drilled into your brain over and over again at the institute flash through your brain. You have one job in life and this is it.
You can hold power over them.
The words from the book your bunkmate had smuggled in flash through your mind. “The Powerful Omega”, it had been titled. Authored by a progressive omega, it talked all about how powerful omegas could be, even those forced into traditional roles. You can get them all wrapped around your finger if you wanted to.
You steady your nerves, clenching your hands into fists at your sides and step out from behind Price. Your skin prickles as three sets of eyes are set on you. Price is speaking but you’re not really listening as you take them in. You recognize the two betas from their files.
Gaz, you pick up Price doing introductions, has kind eyes. He’s tall for a beta, almost the same height as Price. He waves to you, offering you a small smile.
Soap is the shortest of the four, more what you would expect from a beta. “Good to meet ya, lass.” He greets you, giving you a charming smile. He’s going to push your boundaries, you can tell.
You’re beginning to see the dynamics already.
“And Ghost.” Price says, your eyes finally moving to the place you’ve been avoiding since you walked in.
All hulking muscle, Ghost seems to take up the entire room. Your heart flutters nervously as you meet his dark gaze, his face hidden by a balaclava with a skull painted on the front. His presence is oppressive, tickling the back of your neck. You’re not sure if you want to run or submit to him, every inch of him screaming alpha.
Price’s hand on your back nearly makes you jump, your gaze finally drawing away from Ghost and back to him. “Come on, take a seat. Tell us about yourself.”
Price sits at the head of the table, Ghost, Soap and Gaz to his left. You take the seat on the right, staring at the other three members of your pack. You jump into your spiel, things that they already knew if they’d read your file. There’s not much else to tell, since everything about you was in that file. That was its purpose, to make you look as appealing as possible to potential alphas and packs.
“What about your family?” Soap asks, the sharp scent of your nervous energy spiking for a moment. “Do you still talk to them?”
You shake your head. “Not for a few years. Institutes don’t really encourage keeping ties with previous packs, but I know there were a few omegas that did. It was hard to keep track of where my family was.”
“Your father was a Marine, correct?” Price, even though they already know the answer.
You nod. “Yes, sir.”
“You lived on base?” He asks.
You nod again. “Yes, sir. We moved a lot, but we lived in pack housing on every base. We were a family pack, and I was number four of eight by the time I presented.”
“When did you get sent to the Institute?” He asks, almost regretting answering it.
It’s a sore subject, he can tell by the change in your face and the slight souring of your scent. “The day after I presented.” You say.
The tension in the room is palpable, Soap and Gaz’s eyes widening in shock as Ghost's shoulders tense just slightly. Price stares at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. He knew it was likely shortly after, but that soon? Most would wait until the presentation had finished at least, and usually there was some downtime when it came to getting into an institute as well.
“My father was a traditionalist alpha.” You say, something they also knew by your status. It was printed all over your file, squeezed in every place it could be as a reminder of your worth to whomever was reading it. “It was because we were already on base that they got to me so fast.” You explain. “It was my dad’s status in the Marines that got me into FIOT.”
“What was it like, in the institute?” Gaz asks, wanting to change the subject a bit, if only to ease the sourness in your scent.
You huff out a laugh, the corner of your lips lifting in a smile. “Not unlike the military, I think. We had strict schedules we stuck to every day. Everything was dictated for us, what we wore, what we learned, what we did with our free time and how often we got it. Even what we ate was chosen for us. We always had to be ready to be tested at any time, and we were always being observed.”
“Your test scores were high.” Price remarks.
You shrug. “I’m a perfect omega, or so my instructors always said. It comes easily to me. I don’t really have to think much about it.”
“Did you really kneel for two hours straight?” Gaz asks.
You huff out a laugh. “Yeah. There was one day...it was a couple years ago. I don’t know what caused it but there was something in the air. We were all on edge and worked up. The director got tired of us and made us all kneel in the mess hall during our two hour afternoon break. No cushions, no pillows. Just all forty of us, kneeling on the marble floor for two hours. Not everyone could do it. Quite a few got too fidgety, couldn’t handle the pain. Three even passed out.”
“How did you manage it?” Gaz asks.
Price wasn’t a fan of using instinctual habits as punishment. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and he can only imagine what else you could say they forced you to do with such nonchalance.
“To be honest, I don’t remember most of it. I just let my mind go somewhere else and before I knew it the time was up.” You shrug.
“We won’t make you kneel for two hours.” Price says. “And definitely not without a pillow.”
You smile softly. “Thank you, sir.”
Price watches you, the way your eyes dart around the room again, the sour edge of your scent gone, but the tang of anxiety remains. You’ve relaxed some, though, your shoulders are not quite so tense and you’ve stopped picking at your nails.
Ghost has remained silent the entire time you’ve spoken, eyes glued on you. You’ve tried not to look at him, finding your words get stuck in your throat whenever you meet his gaze.
He’s going to be a problem.
“There’s some rules we need to go over before anything else.” Price says. “You have freedom to roam this building as you please, but one of us will escort you if you need to go elsewhere at least until you’ve been marked. There’s other alphas on this base and I don’t want them getting any ideas.”
You knew well enough omegas frequented the barracks on bases often. You don’t want to be mistaken as one. Even with their scents on you, you know that won’t stop some. You’re not even sure a mark will stop them either.
“I want full transparency. If something happens you come to me, or you call Kate if we’re gone. If you need anything too, the same order stands.” You’re beginning to detect the edge to his voice, The Captain slipping through his more casual demeanor. “We have some downtime to adjust for now, but sometimes we may leave for weeks at a time. It will be rough, I won’t lie to you, but Kate pulled some strings and there’s an Omega Specialist that’s been brought in for you. You’ll meet her later, I’m sure she wants to do a full workup.”
You’ve met many Omega Specialists in your time. The beta medical professionals that go through specialized training so they can assist and treat omegas better than regular doctors and medics. Most of them go through a residency at Institutes, studying and practicing on young omegas. The thought of having at least someone who might understand you on a deeper level is comforting.
“I’m starving, let’s get the scenting over with.” Soap nearly whines, rubbing his stomach.
His words strike a chord of nervous energy in you again. You had been prepared many times for the scenting. You’d seen instructional videos and done mock practices with your fellow omegas. Yet you feel like it’s not going to be enough. These were real alphas and betas, your pack. What if you don’t like the way they smell?
What if they don’t like the way you smell?
“If you’re alright with it?” Price says, looking at you.
You’re taken aback by the offer for consent. You weren’t expecting it, as this was something you have to do. What would happen if you said no? Would they respect your boundaries? The fact you had been asked at all is shocking to you. You won’t say no, because you’ll have to do it eventually, and at least this way you’ll be walking around smelling like them. If nothing else, it might make this transition a bit easier.
“Yeah.” You nod, swallowing down your nerves. “I’m okay with it.”
All five of you stand from the table, your stomach churning with nervous energy. You try to clear your head, try to calm yourself so you don’t stink them out with your anxiety. You need your scent to be clear, to be as tantalizing as possible.
“Don’t look so worried, lass.” Soap says as they gather around you. “We won’t bite.” He winks at you playfully.
Your cheeks warm as Price steps up to you. He is right, that would come later. Likely during your first heat when Price would give you his mark and claim you as his. It wasn’t unusual for packs with multiple alphas to let more than one claim an omega, but judging from what you’ve seen of Ghost, you’re not sure that’s going to happen.
He had a right to claim you too, but from the look of it, he was the least excited about your joining their pack.
You tense as Price’s hands settle on your waist, lifting you up so you’re seated on the edge of the table, putting you closer to being eye-to-eye with them. They’re all so big, the natural consequence of genetics and their jobs.
“Ready?”
You turn to look up at Price, close enough you can see the freckles on his nose and the grey in his blue eyes. You nod, pressing your hands into the table as you bare your neck for him. Your heart is fluttering in your chest as he leans in closer, pressing his face against your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he rubs his face against your scent gland, warm breaths fanning against your skin.
He pulls away just slightly, baring his own neck to you. You press forward, gripping the edge of the table as you press your face against his throat. You catch the scents you had picked up on his shirt in your room, the surface level scents that were environmental. You close your eyes, inhaling deeper. Woody. Pine? Spruce? It reminds you of a candle your mother used to burn. There’s another scent, the one that lingers. Petrichor, you think, rubbing your face against his scent gland.
His hand on your side pulls you back from your scent-induced haze, and you force yourself back from him. You take deep breaths of the sterile air in the meeting room, picking up his scent more clearly now as it mixes with the others.
“Good girl.” He says, squeezing your side gently. Something flutters in your stomach at his praise, some deep primal part of your brain preening at the thought of making your alpha proud. “Ghost.” He says, stepping back from you.
You’re snapped back into reality as the hulking alpha steps up towards you, moving almost silently. You try to keep yourself calm as he stalks towards you, his sharp gaze burning into yours.
He’s testing you.
You won’t satisfy him, holding his gaze as he reaches you, his thighs pressing against your knees. One hand comes to rest next to your hip on the table, his body leaning in towards you. You’re enveloped by the black fabric of his sweatshirt as his other hand reaches up to tug his balaclava up. Stubble tickles your skin as he presses his face against your throat, breathing in deeply. He lets out a quiet sound as he scents you, almost akin to a growl.
He shifts his weight, pressing his uncovered scent gland against your face. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply. Gunpowder and metal stings your nose again, along with the scent of his body wash. You press deeper into his throat, seeking out his natural scent. Something deep and musky washes over you, like suede or leather. There’s something fresh in there too, almost like eucalyptus. You press your face closer, inhaling it deeply. Your head spins, and you’re sure your knees would have given out if you hadn’t been sitting.
Something rumbles in Ghost's chest as you scent him in a daze. While all alphas’ scents carried a natural musk, Ghosts seems to shoot directly to some deep part of your brain even Price’s scent hadn’t reached.
You let out a quiet whine as he’s pulled from you, his mask back in place by the time you pry your eyes open. Ghost is leaning back against the wall, eyes back to their icy stare as he watches you. Your head is still spinning as someone steps up next to you, taking Ghost’s place.
“How ya doing?” Gaz asks, eyes assessing you. “Hanging in there?”
You nod, taking a couple deep breaths to try and clear your head.
“You’re halfway there.” He says, leaning in closer. “Got through the hard part.”
His breath fans your neck as he leans in, the familiar scent of beta flooding your senses. He was likely doing it on purpose, trying to calm you after the intensity of being scented by two alphas. You breathe in the almondy scent, relaxing into him as he scents you. Your hands raise, gripping his shoulders as he presses his neck close to your face. You seek out the source of the calming scent, pressing your nose into his scent gland.
You’re drawn from the room and to the time your family took a trip to the beach when your father was stationed in North Carolina. Salty sea air, briney and clean, and something else, something soft. Like the clean linen scented spray your mother used on the laundry. You’re clinging to him, his arms around you as you relax into his scent. The tingling energy that had begun to build up at the proximity to the alphas fades as you melt into the calming energy of the beta in front of you.
“Easy.” He says, his hand on the back of your head as he pulls you away from him. You take a deep breath, trying to clear your head. “Still with us?” He asks, meeting your gaze.
“Yeah.” You say, sounding breathless. You knew scenting could be intense, but you hadn’t expected it to feel quite like this.
“Almost done, hen.” Soap says, taking Gaz’s place in front of you. “Lucky there’s only four of us.”
He’s right, you think as you bear your throat for him. You’re not sure you could have handled it had there been more of them. You already feel like you’re floating, enveloped in so many scents you’re not sure what to do. That tingling has begun at the back of your neck as Soap scents you, your eyes meeting Ghost’s. The look in them has changed, his body poised like he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
Soap pulls back, blocking your view of him as he bears his throat to you. You press your face into his neck, pushing past the scents you knew, and that beta scent, looking for him.
You inhale deeply, the scent of warm spices invading your nose. It smells like the holidays, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger enveloping you. You can almost taste the apple pie, see the gingerbread houses. You cling to his shirt, holding him against you as you rub your face against his throat.
You’re trembling just slightly as Soap withdraws from your hold. It’s subtle, but to them, highly aware soldiers, it’s likely clear as day. Your skin is buzzing, like the fluorescent lights above you. You can hear it now, the buzz of electricity. Your pupils are blown, the room suddenly clearer and sharper.
“There she is.” The low grumble of Price’s voice begins to pull you from your heightened state, your eyes turning to him as his hand cups your cheek.
You press into the rough palm of his hand, eyes picking up the grey in his beard and hair as he stands in front of you. He’s older than you, they’re all older than you. Older than you, bigger than you, stronger than you. A small tickle of fear begins to itch in the back of your mind, drawing you from your daze.
You’re vulnerable, entirely vulnerable and incapable of defending yourself against them. Forgetting second genders, they’re all much stronger than you, not to mention trained fighters. You’d be fucked if they decided to try anything, if they wanted to do anything. You’d be entirely helpless against them.
They could if they wanted to.
It would be well within their rights. Even though you had just met, even though you bore no claiming mark, there was nothing stopping them. You couldn’t stop them, and no one would help you.
“You hungry, pup?”
Price’s voice cuts through your fearful daze. There’s a slight furrow to his brow, likely picking up the sharp edge seeping into your scent. Omega fear and distress was the one defense nature gave to your kind, aside from the omega itself. It’s a putrid scent meant to ward off alphas and betas. You’ve heard it described as smelling like sulfur, burning coals, gasoline, melting plastic, and sometimes even the ozonic scent that accompanied alphas in a true rage. It was a warning, but it doesn't always work.
Pup. Price called you Pup.
You haven’t been called “pup” since you were a pup. It’s a commonly used nickname for any status. You remember your father calling your older brothers pup, even after they presented. It could be derogatory, but it’s more commonly used affectionately. He’s trying to ease your discomfort, the fear welling up inside you.
The door is open, the fresh air of the hallway watering down the heavy mix of scents that had become trapped in the room. Soap and Gaz have already stepped out, Ghosts hulking figure blocking the doorway for a moment as he follows them, leaving you alone with Price for a moment.
“Alright?” Price asks as your gaze meets his again.
You nod, still leaning into his touch. “Yeah, ‘s a lot.”
“I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek, a knowing glint in his eyes. He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but Soap nearly passed out when we scented him.”
You cover your mouth to stifle your giggle. It wasn’t unusual for scentings to become so intense that the receiver passes out. You’re sure if there had been more than four in your new pack you would have passed out.
“Come on.” He says, wrapping an arm around your waist to lift you off the table and onto unsteady legs. He doesn’t even grunt with the effort, moving you easily. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s not entirely one of fear.
His hand is warm on your back as he leads you out of the room, the clean air in the hallway clearing your head further. Most bases have circulating air systems, constantly filtering out scents to keep things as neutral as possible. They’re less effective in smaller areas though, especially after scents were intentionally projected. Most military members wore scent blockers, at least while performing their duties. You remember your father coming home at the end of the day with the dull burn of scent blocker still on his clothes.
Your head is still spinning a bit as you follow them out of the barracks and towards the mess hall. They seem to almost walk in a formation, though you suppose with years of having it drilled in your head, it’s almost second nature. You’re sandwiched between Soap and Gaz in the middle, Price in front and Ghost bringing up the rear.
The other personnel on the base give your group a wide berth, and even in the mess you can feel the glances, but none of the stares linger. Price guides you next to him as you get your food, adding things to your tray for you. That tickling feeling starts again at the back of your neck as he makes your plate, your omega preening happily at the knowledge of what he’s doing.
He’s proving his ability as a provider.
In more primordial times he might have gone out and hunted for food to bring back to you to prove his capabilities. Even in more modern times, he might have hunted as some alphas still did, or he would have gone to the store to keep the fridge stocked full of food. Alphas are good at adapting to their surroundings and situations. He’s proving his capabilities in the way he can.
You’re also silently grateful to not have to think too hard about the choices in front of you. Even after a week, British food is still a bit unfamiliar to you. It’s not entirely indiscernible, though, and you’re sure you could pick out things that sounded good if you had to. At this moment, though, with your head still reeling a bit and the unsettling energy of a new place filled with unknown alphas and betas, you’re happy to let Price do it for you.
He carries your tray and his to a table, sitting you next to him. Gaz takes your other side, Soap and Ghost sitting across from you. The choices in their seating arrangement don’t feel quite so random to you, and you quickly realize the arrangement is similar to the room setup in the barracks.
A beta for each alpha, you think. Gaz and Price. Soap and Ghost.
Then there’s you, stuck somewhere in the middle of them. Somehow you’ll fit between them, squeezing into their perfect dynamic. Omegas are supposed to help balance packs, but as you sit with the four members of your new pack, you can’t help but feel like you’re only going to make things more difficult.
I'm willing to put together a taglist if people are interested...
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#141 x reader#task force 141#task force 141 x reader#cod x reader#captain price x reader#john price x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#soap x reader#soap mactavish x reader#john mactavish x reader#a/b/o
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141 gossiping about Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley for roughly 3,000 words idk titles are hard
Price was the first to notice. Priding himself on being incredibly observant, especially when it came to his boys.
He noticed that whenever they had a break from trainings or meetings, he’d somehow always find the two of you in a room together. Never close enough to give him reason to say anything. You scribbling notes on a patient report at one table, Ghost at another, his chair angled just enough so that he could watch you from the corner of his eye.
Noticed the way Ghost’s hand rested on the small of your back for a heartbeat when you entered a doorway before him. Just a brush of his massive hand on you, quick enough to be mistaken for an accidental touch.
Noticed how Ghost’s eyes seemed to always flick to you from across the mess hall. Not often, but enough for Price to casually turn his head and see that same nurse Ghost seemed to have a preference for.
At first, Price thought he could help by being a wingman of sorts. When Ghost took damage on a mission, Price would escort him to medbay and watch as he dismissed nurse after nurse until you were finally available to treat him. Price lingered as long as he could before you inevitably waved him away, cheekily reminding him you always took good care of his team and that you’d have ‘Lieutenant Riley’ back in no time. The only thing he could catch was the way Ghost’s shoulders relaxed by a hair’s breadth when you drew the curtain shut behind you.
He tried again during a meeting with his boys. Suggesting they bring a medic on a mission with them. Said something about how it would be better to have the option of a patch-up readily available. Keep his team fighting fit in real time instead of having to wait until they came back to base. Price saw the way Ghost tensed slightly in his seat, the muscles in his jaw twitching under his balaclava.
The notion was quickly vetoed. Ghost grumbling something about not wanting to babysit any more than he already does. How it’s ultimately more paperwork he doesn’t want to have to deal with.
He tried once more, going to Ghost’s office one evening. Almost turning tail once he realized how ridiculous it was to be this insistent on figuring out if his Lieutenant had some boyish crush on the sweet nurse he always seemed to be lingering around. But ultimately decided that it was good practice to know more about his team personally. Better bonding meant better interaction on the field, right?
He asked Ghost to redo some paperwork. Add a ‘next of kin’ to his file in the event that something happened and they needed to alert someone. Ghost looked a little suspicious, shrugging off the request.
“Left it off for a reason, Captain.”
He said gruffly, waving a hand. Barely looking up from his desk.
Price pursed his lips, shifting his weight slightly.
“You sure, Simon? Haven’t got anyone that’d be interested to know what happened to you?”
Ghost rubbed the bridge of his nose, like the conversation was more trouble than it was worth, before shrugging once more. Finally looking up from his desk and leaning back slightly in his chair.
“You planning on shipping me off somewhere and not picking me back up?”
A small chuckle from Price. A shake of his head.
“Can’t say I am.”
“Cheers, then. Leave it off.”
This quelled Price’s curiosity for a while, unable to dream up any other reason to try and force Ghost to indulge him. It no doubt hurt his ego a bit, thinking about how his Lieutenant and one of his closest friends was so dead set on keeping his personal life so closely guarded. He’d push the feelings aside, chalk it up to being jaded by his work. Over-involved in the lives of Soap and Gaz. It was probably good for Simon to have something sacred.
Soap wasn’t as easily deterred once he caught on. Not as immediately perceptive as the others, but he knew Ghost well enough to know his tells.
It was after a long mission. Months long. Grueling, shitty, exhausting work. They got back in the early evening, mercifully spared from a debrief until the following day. Soap somehow ended up dragging Ghost to a dive bar a few blocks from base. Trying to sound persuasive when he mentioned that it was a Friday night and they deserved a few drinks and some female attention after all this time going without.
And they did get attention. Two good looking military men sitting at the bar were bound to. Soap knew that Ghost wasn’t one to play the field, but this was a bit frigid even for him. Ignoring girls who came up and tried to strike conversation. Rolling his eyes, or huffing a sigh like it was a chore to even dismiss them, drumming his fingers on the wall of his glass like he’s bored. It was baffling.
What was even more baffling was the way that Ghost’s knee bounced slightly against the stool. An infinitesimally small movement, but the way it caught Johnny’s eye made it seem like Ghost was all but jumping up and down. He looked almost anxious. Itching to get up and leave.
“Fuck’s wrong with you?”
Ghost’s head jerked toward Johnny, cold eyes narrowing in a way that would have been terrifying years ago- before he’d gotten used to it.
“Come again?”
“Got somewhere to be, have you?”
He sounds almost indignant. Like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Ghost is stand-offish by nature, but this is a caliber he hasn’t yet encountered. Almost enough to be offensive. To make him question the quality of his company.
“Maybe I do. What’s it to you?”
Ghost grumbled, killing the contents of his glass with a final mouthful. Setting it back on the counter and moving to drum his fingers on the bar.
“Been out of the country for months and you expect me to believe you’ve got plans tonight?”
This earned a sigh, low enough to pass as a growl.
“You keeping my social calendar now, then?”
He stood, digging through his wallet for a moment before slapping some cash down on the table next to his empty glass. Not giving Johnny an opportunity to lodge any further complaints against him. Before he nodded his goodnight and slipped out of the bar. Mumbling something about needing to get back to his flat and check on some things.
Soap couldn’t get his mind around it. Ghost was elusive, sure, but again; something seemed off. He was calm, cool, and collected. Wouldn’t be caught dead manifesting his impatience physically. The fidgeting and twitching in his seat. The first place Soap’s mind went was maybe Ghost was dying? That’d be the only reasonable explanation for his behavior. But even then, it seemed a bit extreme.
The next day after the debrief, which was nearly as brutal as the deployment itself, Soap was still so in his head about Ghost’s behavior he almost didn’t notice the pretty nurse who seemed to be waiting for someone at the end of the hall. In fact, he was so stuck in his own mind, he only caught a fleeting glimpse of Ghost’s back rounding the corner with the nurse at his side. Hushed conversation disappearing with them. A softer, much more pleasant voice than Simon’s.
He debated whether or not to follow them, maybe answer the questions that’d been plaguing his mind. Ultimately, he decided in favor of it. Padding down the hall behind the duo who seemed to be headed back to Simon’s office. They weren’t walking closely enough to touch, but Soap immediately picked up on the tension between them. Like the distance was serving some sort of purpose.
Soap lingered in the hallway for a few minutes after the two disappeared into Ghost’s office, trying to sort the pieces of the puzzle he’d barely began collecting. He ultimately decided to go the route he was most comfortable with. Not one for sneaking about, he simply strode up to the office door and swung it open.
You were sat at one of the chairs in front of Simon’s desk, him standing with his arms folded over his chest next to you. Not compromising enough for Johnny’s taste, but he still put on a wide grin and nodded to you.
“Forget how to knock?”
Ghost’s voice was calm enough, but his eyes were shooting daggers straight through Johnny. You looked stiff as a board, chewing the inside of your lip through the tight smile you were giving him.
“Sorry, L.T. Needed to know if you’re still on for trainings this afternoon.”
He didn’t miss the way your eyes flicked to Ghost, communicating something that he couldn’t quite decipher wordlessly before you began studying your nails in your lap.
Ghost cleared his throat, rolling his tongue in his cheek. Growling something obscene under his breath. The agitation rolling off of him in waves.
“No. Got another assignment.”
And with that, Soap was all but thrown from the office. Querying about this ‘new assignment’ the whole way. Simon crowding him to the door until he finally snapped it shut on his nose.
He heard later that day Ghost was seen in medbay with a toolkit swearing at an X-Ray machine that had been giving you trouble for a month. After that, Soap was on the two of you like a fly on shit. Never missing an opportunity to bring you up to Ghost or vise versa. Mock-innocently saying something to Ghost in passing at dinner about you. Asking if he fancied you. When he said no, Johnny shrugged and nodded. Saying he was glad because he had plans to ask you out the next time he was injured.
That comment landed Soap in the bay sooner than expected. Escorting him to a different nurse’s exam area and standing guard the entire time his black eye was being iced. Berating him for not being able to block a few punches when they had sparred after dinner.
And Gaz, sweet boy that he is, was always more emotionally in-tune. Observant about the little things. Able to pick up on queues Soap and Price may have missed over the years. He was keen as he was quiet, keeping all his little discoveries to himself. Over the years, he’d created a small arsenal of moments he wasn’t sure were significant enough to bring up. Things he could have talked himself into imagining if he thought about them hard enough. Not wanting to jump to conclusions about anything.
But he noticed the incredibly subtle tan line on Ghost’s left hand. Noticed the way he tapped his foot impatiently when the debrief after a long deployment ran long. Noticed the way you always seemed to be around the yard when they touched down after a mission. The way your shoulders dropped when you saw all four of them had returned home. Like you had just been relieved the duty of holding up the sky.
He didn’t immediately connect the dots. Initially thinking that you’d just taken a special liking to the task force. They were some of your most frequent visitors, after all. Price had all but claimed you as their own. Specially requesting that you were the only one to patch their wounds, claiming the other nurses couldn’t hold a flame to your skill.
He didn’t mind. Came to enjoy the little chats the two of you had when the curtains around the cot were drawn. The little kikis you had where you chatted about anything and everything. Complaining about your jobs, irritating patients, botched missions, the morsels of gossip from around base.
One day, after a particularly nasty skirmish on a mission, all four of the men had gnarly wounds. You looked a bit more tired than usual. A bit more on-edge. Your answers were a bit more flat than they usually were. So the first part of the assessment was left mostly silent spare for a few soft “thank you’s” on his part.
It was only when you were bandaging a wound on his thigh did he notice the shape of a ring on your left hand under your glove. A thin band that wrapped neatly around your finger.
“Didn’t know you were married, doc.”
It was a passing comment, more just to spare him the agony of trying to hide his soft groans of pain in the thick silence.
You hummed your acknowledgment, focused more on working sutures through his skin neatly than anything else.
“Lucky bloke. Hope he’s good to you.”
It wasn’t flirty or predatory, like so many of the soldiers could be. A genuine thought. He’d always thought you were sweet. Easy to chat with, always offering him a smile and a chirped greeting when the two of you passed in the hall. Thought you deserved someone to share in your kindness.
You smiled, brow still furrowed slightly in your focus while tying off the stitches.
“He does alright.”
You chuckled softly, straightening on your stool and rolling back just slightly so you could meet his eye.
“All these years and you never mentioned. I’m hurt.”
He words came with a practiced ease, slipping back into your usual playful chatter without missing a beat. Flashing a coy grin as he carefully flexed and relaxed his leg. Getting a feel for the newly patched wound.
You rolled the gloves off your hands and tossed them into the bin. Standing from your stool to scribble a few notes on his chart.
“Not something that ever came up.”
“Now it has. He have a name? How long you been together?”
You chuckled once more, looking over your shoulder at him with an arched brow. A little skeptical of his curiosity.
“A good while.”
He noticed the way you evaded his former question, like you’d done it before. It only fueled his curiosity.
“You worried I’ll know him? Or are you embarrassed? Not much of a looker?”
This earned an amused snort from you, turning away from the chart you’d been working on.
“Nothing wrong with wanting to keep my personal life personal, is there?”
You winked at him, pushing open the curtain that divided the small exam area from the rest of the bay.
He made a small sound of protest, making no move to stand from the cot just yet.
“Alright, forget it. Didn’t even want to know anyway.”
He sounded like a child being denied a sweet. Even playing up the act with a small pout on his mouth.
You tutted softly, conjuring up the best mock-sympathetic look you could before motioning for him to stand.
“We’ll talk later. Captain’ll have my hide if I keep you away a moment longer than is necessary.”
Another sound of protest, followed by a throaty groan as he finally pushed up off the bed. Unsure if he was being dramatic or if the aftermath of the mission had truly gotten to him that bad. Always a flare for the dramatics, him.
He muttered his thanks, cupping your shoulder in his hand as he trudged out. Making you promise to have a proper chat with him later.
He lingered in the bay, allowing himself a few moments peace before getting back to work. Just as he finally turned to leave, he saw Ghost moving stiffly- like he was trying to downplay a limp- toward your little exam area. Though for some reason, the scene looked a bit strange to him. He couldn’t help but peek in.
He caught the way you watched him lumber over with big, worried eyes. The way your nails dug into your palms until he was finally within arms reach. The way you quickly glanced around to see if anyone was paying the two of you any attention before your hands flew to his neck, fingers slipping expertly under the hem of his mask and yanking it up over his nose. Not rough or angry, but with the kind of urgency that suggested you may die if you didn’t see a sliver of his skin. Make absolutely certain he was truly there with you.
The most jarring part- Ghost actually allowing you to touch the mask. Allowing your little hands to breach his personal space. Hands that would have easily been dwarfed by his own, swallowed up and twisted or shoved away like he had seen happen so many times in sparring matches with prospect soldiers. But Ghost just let it happen.
It was a flurry of movement, so fast that Gaz was certain he could have blinked and missed it. Frozen watching the two of you from just behind another exam area. Feeling like he was intruding without even meaning to.
And then he saw the way Ghost’s big arms snaked around your waist, drawing you flush to his front. You leaning up onto your toes to bring your face closer to the Lieutenant’s. A fervid kiss. You flinging your arms around his neck. The way your shoulders shook. A small, choked sob that Gaz was all but certain he imagined. Drowned out for everyone else by the sounds of the bay.
He was almost shocked that the world continued to move after that. Shocked that something that seemed so monumental could happen tucked away into your barely private exam area. Shocked that your reunion hadn’t halted time and space for everyone else like it had for the two of you.
He felt dirty. Like he should go up and apologize for lingering and seeing what he saw. But he stayed rooted to the spot, finding it impossible to move.
Truly the most damning part was when he caught the quickest glimpse of your badge just before the curtain was tugged shut. The badge you kept carefully pinned to your uniform face-down for a reason he couldn’t fathom until now. Twisted free for just a moment and finally connecting the snippets of information he’d collected over the years.
(Y/N Riley)
#call of duty#cod mw2#cod x reader#ghost cod#ghost mw2#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x you#tf 141#141 x reader#john price#captain john price#john soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#captain john price x reader#141 headcanons#task force 141#secret wife
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smut because somehow i always end up there.
yknow something that pushy ass cbf!johnny would do?
tell you that he'd get more benefits and/or pay if he had a spouse.
"Because you're in absolute poverty, Johnny."
He clicks his tongue. "Be serious, hen."
You are being serious. Johnny's not hurting for cash. His parents are still alive, so he has no need to buy a place of his own, and even then, he just swings by his family's home before coming back to stay with you until leave's over. Honestly, you should be charging him rent.
"Johnny. Unless you're planning on buying another ostentatious vehicle with tires too big for this tiny town, I'm not seeing what you're seeing."
He digs his thumb into the arch of your foot that's draped over his lap. "But think o' the possibilities! If say, you married me, ye wouldn't need to work anymore. Jus' worked on gettin' the job of yer dreams! An' besides, ah'd never realistically settle down anyway; too busy savin' the world an' all."
The extra income must be drastic if he's this insistent. "Why not marry the big brit with the skull for a face? You talk about him enough to sound like you've got a hard on for him."
He avoids your gaze when he informs you that Ghost is already married.
"And what about me? What if I find a boyfriend or something?" you playfully teased. Johnny's bright blue eyes turned to ice.
"Is there someone?" A muscle worked in his jaw.
Dread crawled up your spine. Abort. Abort. "Of course not." The tension melted from his face— gaze gentling and lips softening.
Christ, can he be intense sometimes.
You clear your throat. "Say I do marry you. What do you get out of this as my benefactor? Math isn't mathing, Johnny."
His lips curl upwards in amusement. "Nothin' between us would change. Jus' get a nice, shiny band on my hand tha' keeps unwanted advances off of me, and I wouldn't have to live on base anymore. Tired of eatin' tha' slop at dfac."
Johnny's long fingers curl around your ankle, thumb drawing gentle circles on the bone. "C'mon, hen. Think about your career! Marry me and ye won't even have t'change yer last name, swear."
Once again, fooled by the pretty face and dazzling smile.
You were a MacTavish by the end of the month, and he'd ended up in your bed that same night. Pushed your face into the soft mattress as he bullied his cock into you, telling you to feel how he splits his little wife's pussy open.
Mottled the delicate skin of your neck and collarbone with purple love bites when he hooked your knees over his shoulders, forcing you to take all of him in that devastating angle.
Made you look at yourself in the mirror in the bathroom, one hand gripping your neck, and the other on your swollen cunt, rubbing tight circles on your slippery clit. "Look at how beautiful y'are. How good yer takin' me." He tilts your head upwards, locking eyes with you. "This cunt was made f'me, wasn't it, wife?" he rumbles.
If he said anything else, it was promptly drowned out by a buzzing in your ears as your world went white. Warmth trickled down your legs as pleasure burst through you, spasm after gut-twisting spasm. Johnny blessedly slows down, working you through it tenderly, until you hiss in discomfort from oversensitivity.
"The way ye look in yer pleasure is somethin' i'll see behind my eyelids forever, bonnie."
Heat licks up the sides of your jaw. "Johnny, please—" you cut off, a moan tumbling out of your lips when he presses himself flush against your arse.
"Dinnae worry, ah'm not done with ye jus' yet." There's a hand in between your shoulder blades, pushing down gently. "Bend over, hands behind yer back, Mrs. MacTavish."
ghost is in fact, not married.
and the pay raise is mediocre.
#call of duty#johnny soap mactavish#cod mw2#cod mwii#john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish smut#john soap mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#john mactavish x reader
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Old man Bakugou (who isn’t even that old, but god I want him)
Warnings: 18+, retired!Pro-Hero Dynamight, Bakugou is 50, reader is like half his age or more or less idc but Bakugou is older.
Bakugou retires at fifty. It’s much younger than a lot of other heroes that have paved the way for him, and yet he’s accomplished so much that it’s time for him to step aside for the future Pros. The ones that still have so much drive and energy, and are ready to conquer their dreams just like he was.
It gives up a place in the top five rankings for another younger, keen Pro-Hero to take his place. But of course Dynamight is still popular, and he’s still got a loyal fan base that continue to adore him even into his retirement.
Bakugou is still recognised when he goes out to restaurants and coffee shops, full of people trying to grab his autograph or share stories of how they grew up with him and watched him reach number one.
And then there’s you— he meets you one night at a bar when he’s nursing a beer, trying to adjust to having a free schedule instead of protecting the city. And he can’t help but notice the way your eyes glisten when you notice him, leaning against the bar beside his stool as you tilt your head inquisitively.
“No way, you’re Dynamight? My mom used to love you.”
And once again Bakugou is reminded of just how old he is, his blond hair now mixed with wisps of silver, the thick stubble that frames his jaw well on its way to being a beard, his muscular chest now curved with soft pudge and blond hairs and his back aches as he sits on the barstool.
“She had the biggest crush on you when she was younger,” You take a seat beside him as you sip at your own drink, “Had posters and figures up of you and everything.”
Bakugou doesn’t know how it happened— or why a pretty young thing like you wants anything to do with him. He’s gotta be twice your age, maybe more— but the casual conversation continues and you’re practically leaning into him now, pretty eyes glazed over as you stare down at his lips.
“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck an old man,” You tease, but you should be careful what you wish for, “Can you even still get it up?”
Bakugou reckons he should have you over his knee for that comment alone, but that’s all it takes for him to have his beer bottle slamming down onto the bar as he grabs you by the wrist.
Barely ten minutes later Bakugou has your knees pushed up to your chest inside the dingy dive bar bathroom. Your knickers bunched around them to keep your thighs together as he rams his thick, hard cock inside your tight cunt. The ferocity of his thrusts unlike anything you’ve felt before and you’re certain you can feel him in your lungs. Your naive hole squelches around him, your essence leaking out of you and soaking his heavy balls as the only words that leave your lips now are incoherent babbles. Your hands cling to him for some semblance of reality, painted nails leaving crescent-shaped moons in his forearms. Your grip rough enough to break his skin and join the multiude of scars that already marr his body.
Your head knocks against the mirror with each cant of his hips but you could care less. The pleasure surging through your veins has your mind hazy, his hulking body practically folds you in two as he looms over you, burying his cock inside you to the hilt as you feel so full.
You’re positive you look debauched. Your pretty lipstick ruined as it’s smeared across your lips and cheeks, certain you’re drooling down your chin as he fucks you within an inch of your life. It’s nothing like the inept men around your own age you’d been with before. With age comes experience, and you’re certain you see heaven when a calloused thumb slips between your bodies to press against your puffy clit.
“Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart,” He groans, “This old man’s gonna have you gushin’ all over his cock.”
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In my dreams
Seungmin x reader. (fake) enemies to lovers. my interpretation of in my dreams by tearliner, love X stereo.
Seungmin has never liked you. You never understood why, but you were slowly coming to terms with it. However, you gradually come to learn that there is more to his feelings than what meets the eye.
skz song series
cw: reader has anxiety and deals with lots of self-doubt and insecurities.
a.n: the end of our skz song series!! and a pretty personal final fic, this one is based on my own experience with anxiety, so it might differ for everyone :) thank you for reading as always <3
You watch, a soft smile on your face as two little girls play with one another in the playground. It reminds you of simpler times, when you could just walk up to another human and become friends with them instantly.
But reality is much more challenging, especially for someone like you, constantly plagued by their anxious thoughts.
Anxiety didn't tiptoe into your life, one drop at a time so you'd get accustomed to its overwhelming presence. Instead, you woke up one day and it barged into you, through cracks and dents you didn't even know existed in your being, and then it made itself a permanent home within the confines of your heart.
You never truly learned how to live with this parasite feeding off your soul, draining you completely until you became a mere shell of who you once were. You never fully adjusted to the invisible hands choking you from within, to the voice nagging you in the back of your mind, telling you that something horrible was bound to happen.
Because nothing ever went wrong, day after day, nothing bad happened. And yet, the feeling of dread persisted and lingered until you started to believe that the problem was you.
And once you opened the door to self-doubt, you could never fully close it again.
You're too overwhelmed, too nervous, too much of everything bad. Your conversations are scrutinized, down to every syllable you uttered, to the way you smiled and how you laughed. The interactions might differ but the regret that haunts you after is the same.
So, you diluted your being, in an effort to be more acceptable, easier in the lives of the people around you. You believed that if you pleased everyone you ever encoutered then at the end you must satisfy yourself too.
You sigh softly, drumming your fingers along your knee. You’re starting a new year in college tomorrow. Your first one wasn't exceptional by any means. Aileen, the girl who sat beside you from time to time was nice, and you grabbed coffee sometimes as you prepared for your exams together. But she had other friends, ones she's much closer to, ones she invited to her birthday party, ones who she didn't simply fill her free time with.
You shake your head, putting a stop to the thoughts in your head before they get too much once again, pushing you over an edge you don't want to be in right now.
You'll try harder this year. You'll be okay, for once.
≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋
Your professor Lee is scribbling something on the large whiteboard, as he waits for the class to fill up. Someone sits next to you, and the smell of their cologne wafts to your nose- hints of vanilla and wood seemingly calming down your nerves. You quickly take a glance at them, to find a guy with long brown hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. He's taking out his notepad from his bag, and you smile at the chick keychain he has on it. He catches you looking and you quickly avert your gaze, heat creeping up your cheeks.
"Hi, I'm Felix," he greets enthusiastically, and you turn your head slowly to be met with his wide grin. It softens his features, making his eyes turn into moon crescents. You envy his ability to smile without overthinking how he looks.
"Yn," you introduce back, and he nods, the grin still etched on his face. "You were in my Economics class last year, no?" he asks and you tilt your head to the side, as you mull over his question.
"I was but I don't remember seeing you," you admit sheepishly and he waves a hand in the air, not bothered the least by your words.
"It's okay, I just remembered your presentation on Inflation. I finally understood why we can't just print more money," he admits with a chuckle, and you giggle against your will.
"I don't blame you, it sounds like an easy solution," you agree, and his eyes widen.
"Right! when I tell my friends they just stare at me in disappointment."
You laugh at his adorable pout, an unfamiliar warmth stirring within your chest. He's nice.
"I'm glad I helped you then, I was so nervous presenting it," you clear your throat as he smiles impressively at you. "Really? I couldn’t tell at all."
Mr. Lee calls for your attention and you both turn your heads back to the board. You couldn’t really focus, Felix’s words echoing in your head like a broken mantra- he couldn’t tell you were nervous. A sudden relief dawns on you at the possibility that, maybe, not everyone is aware of the neverending storm raging within you, threatening to drown you at any giving moment.
≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋
"Movie night at my dorm?" Felix proposes as he packs up his bag, your two hours long class finally done.
"Will Seungmin be there?" you ask, a slight edge to your voice and Felix pauses, shaking his head at you.
"Yn, you're overreacting. I promise he doesn't hate you."
"Have you ever seen him smiling at me?" you ask, arching your eyebrow expectantly at him. He stays silent and you wiggle your finger in the air. "Exactly! Please tell me he won't be there."
"About that... He's helping me bake the cookies," Felix smiles sheepishly and you groan, falling dramatically on your seat.
"I’m not coming."
"But the cookies," Felix pouts, and the promise of the chewy baked goods is so enticing it makes you second-guess your decision.
"The cookies...," you whine, and Felix giggles grabbing your hand to pull you up.
"I’ll see you at 5?"
"Yes," you concede, a small smile on your lips. You wait until Felix bids you goodbye for it to finally slip from your face.
Seungmin has never liked you, from the moment Felix introduced you to him. You still remember it clear as day, the way his eyes slightly widened when they fell on you, before narrowing down. How he didn't utter a single word when Felix left you both alone to get your drinks. Your panic grew as an uncomfortable silence reigned on the both of you, and you racked your brain for something to say to cut through that eerie quiet.
"Seungmin, right?" you asked, a bit too cheerfully, and you winced inwardly at your tone. He didn't reply, only humming back. It was so faint you wouldn't have caught it had you not been staring at him intently.
"What's your major?" Your voice cracked.
"Computer science." He replied curtly, and you waited patiently, expecting him to return the question. He didn't. And you shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. Maybe he just didn't do well with strangers. Maybe he wasn't a chatty person, to complement Felix's extroverted nature.
But you were wrong. You watched in complete astonishment as he teased Felix relentlessly, a wide smile on his face. It made his eyes soften, a newfound fondness itching itself on his expressions. He laughed and he joked and you felt yourself shrink more and more, this way he wouldn't notice you anymore, wouldn't glare at you as if you did something horribly wrong to him.
Felix tried to include you as best as he could in their conversation, but you tuned it out. It was hard to focus on their talk when there was a tumultuous one ongoing in your mind. Seungmin's behavior just further cemented every horrible idea you held about yourself. There is something wrong about you, and he can see it. You may have fooled Felix but you didn't fool Seungmin. If you were him you wouldn't talk to you either.
Every encounter with Seungmin since then left you feeling fifteen years old again, in a classroom full of unkind eyes zeroed on you. You tried to talk about his interests, to string along a normal conversation, one that would reassure that your first encounter was a wrongful impression.
But he did not like talking to you, only offering short replies in response. It’s as if his tongue was tied in your response, and in return it only magnified the knot in your stomach. You went through every conversation with him a million times in your head, trying to pinpoint what exactly went wrong. What warranted him to be so silent in your presence, and yours only, as if you weren’t worthy of a simple conversation. And the answer always tied back to you.
So, you’ve been avoiding him like the plague for the past month, sparing him the chore that is existing near you. It was particularly hard since Felix was his best friend and roommate, and surprisingly he actually enjoyed spending time with you. Still, you couldn’t help but think that it was only a matter of time before Felix started to hate you too.
≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋
"You're moving too much," Seungmin chastises and you freeze in your place at his words. You are sitting on the couch of Felix’s dorm later on that day, a horror movie playing in the small TV before you. Felix decided to lay on the floor, buried in a pool of yellow blankets, and a long pillow that weirdly had the picture of one of their friends printed on it. "It's my safety net," he explained and you didn't question him any further.
For some reason, Seungmin decided to sit next to you, instead of the opposing couch. Granted, he can see the TV more clearly from here, still this is the first time he willingly went somewhere near you, let alone talked to you.
You decide to ignore him, too focused on predicting the next jump scare, your feet tapping the floor furiously. But still, it happens so abruptly, eliciting a startled gasp from you, anf you clutch the edge of the couch even tighter.
"Close your eyes," Seungmin speaks suddenly and you raise an eyebrow at him, confused.
"There is a jump scare coming soon," he clears his throat, "just... close your eyes if you don't want to see it."
You comply without much thought and soon enough, you can hear a shrill scream coming from the screen. He was right.
"It passed," he says softly, and you tentatively open your eyes once again. There is a foreign expression on Seungmin's face, one you haven't seen before, but it passes as quickly as it came, like a dream slipping between your fingers as soon as you wake up.
"How did you know?" you ask, hugging your knees tightly to your chest.
"I already watched this movie."
"Really? Why are you watching it again?"
"Because. I had nothing better to do," he says, almost defensively, his hand now covering his mouth as if he had to physically stop the words from spilling out.
You don't reply, turning back to look at the screen. Seungmin doesn't tell you when a jump scare is coming next, he simply taps your arm, and you close your eyes on cue.
His hand brushing against your bare skin feels weird, not uncomfortable by any means, but it still is a foreign sensation. You didn't know he had such soft hands, and you always imagined them to be cold. But they are warm, and you wonder what other things about Seungmin you've been wrong about.
≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋
"I'm so tired," Felix groans, laying his head on your shoulder and you giggle, patting his head in mock sympathy. It's been three months since the start of your year, which means that the assignments are starting to pile up on you all.
"Me too," you sigh, and Seungmin stays silent next to you. Felix dragged you both to this coffeeshop, a little outing to recharge his spirit, as he texted you. You're slowly getting used to Seungmin's brooding presence. He talks to you a little more, even cracking a few jokes here and there. But you’re still wary of him. You keep your guard up just in case he forcefully brings a mirror to your face once again, reminding you of everything you despise about yourself.
"I'll go order, it's my treat. Pick a place for us?" Felix says and you nod, walking ahead of Seungmin towards a table near the back.
You sit down first, and Seungmin follows second, sitting right across from you. You quickly bring out your phone, scrolling mindlessly through the apps to distract yourself from the man in front of you.
"You have a presentation tomorrow, right?" Seungmin speaks up, startling you, and you slowly put your phone down.
"Yes, how did you know?"
"Felix told me that it makes up 25% of your grade. Are you nervous?"
"A little," you admit, even though ‘a little’ didn't even begin to cover it.
"Don't be. You'll do well," he says, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You almost feel as if you've imagined it before it dissipates.
"Thank you," you nod, as Felix brings the tray down your table.
"Is this for me?" you ask tentatively, pointing to the strawberry milkshake, a sore thumb sticking out between the iced americano, and the hazelnut Frappuccino, Seungmin’s and Felix’s respective go to orders.
"They got the order wrong. I got you an iced matcha," Felix pouts, double checking his receipt.
"It's okay," you smile slightly. There was nothing you despised more than having to change up your order.
"You don't want to drink this," Seungmin says, staring at you expectantly and you wave your hand in the air dismissively. "I don't mind."
Seungmin stands up, grabbing the drink from your hand before taking the receipt from the table. He goes to the counter and you watch in astonishment as he comes back, a green drink in hand this time.
"Here," he hands you your cup, before grabbing his own and sipping from it. Your drink is cold, but the warm tingles spreading through your being at his sweet gesture outweigh any other feeling.
≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋
Talking in front of 267 people never gets easier.
You memorized your presentation; you rehearsed it so much you could probably recite it with your eyes closed. Yet, the nerves still found a way to weave themselves inside you. Your hands were shaking, so much you couldn't even stare at the notes you prepared. Your palms were sweaty, blood rushing rapidly to your ears, tuning out your voice as you spoke.
You can’t even recall what you said exactly, it’s as if your body had a mind of its own, your mouth moving itself without you commanding it. You aren’t sure how it was, but someone smiled at you reassuringly from the first row, and the professor clapped, so you assume you did okay.
The class finally ends, your nerves slowly dissipating and leaving in their trail an excruciating exhaustion. You rub your eyes tiredly, as you slowly walk out of the door, before stopping in your tracks when you notice Seungmin leaning against the wall, hands buried in his varsity jacket.
His eyes are closed, a pair of earphones dangling across his chest. But then, as if he feels you looking at him, he opens his eyes, locking his gaze on you. You stay put in your place as he walks to you, his bag loosely hanging from his shoulder. He hooks his thumb underneath the strap, keeping it in place
"How was it?" he questions, and it takes you a few seconds to register what he was asking about. Your presentation. Was he waiting for you?
"I think I did well?" you reply, but it comes out more of a question to which he giggles softly.
"Are you asking me?" he teases and you roll your eyes playfully. "I did well," you repeat and he smiles, nodding a bit. "I’m sure you did. Here." He opens his bag, taking out your favorite chocolate bar from it- it had bits of caramelized pistachio and almonds in it. Seungmin doesn’t like it, he prefers plain milk chocolate, as Felix told you one day.
"Eat this, I ended up buying two by mistake, I still have an extra one at the dorm." You grab it from his hands, and he quickly leaves before you could properly thank him.
≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋
You always dread the days you'd wake up with a heavy weight crushing your chest.
You try to distract yourself, try to focus in class and take notes. You try to laugh at Felix's jokes and savor the brownies he just brought you. But you can't. It feels as if you're a cup filled to the brim, each passing second bringing you closer to when that fateful drop would finally make you overflow. And you could do nothing but watch yourself unravel.
Seungmin's eyes never leave you, and it only makes your anxiety spike. It feels as if he's peering inside your soul, witnessing how a cord ties itself around your throat, making it impossible for you to breathe. You can't speak anymore, every word you say threatening to make tears spill out of your eyes. You aren't sure you can make them stop if they ever start falling.
Nothing happened, nothing's happening, you try to remind yourself. But you are scratching your hand incessantly, and you feel an overwhelming need to flee. To run away, somewhere where only you would witness the display of your broken soul. So you sputter a meek excuse, and then you stand up and head to your dorm.
It's raining outside, and you don't have an umbrella. But you are grateful for it, since the rain mingles with your salty tears, shielding them from the curious eyes of the people passing by. You need to get home, you need to hide somewhere and you need to remember how to breathe-
"Yn," a hand grabs your forearm and you startle, instinctively taking two hurried steps back. It's Seungmin. He removed his blue hoodie and he's now placing it over both of your heads.
"What are you doing? You'll get sick," he sounds mad, and you can't take his disappointed tone anymore.
"I'm having a bad day and I don't need you to make it worse," you say, startling yourself with the raw emotion in your voice.
He physically recoils from your words, his arms faltering as he gazes at you, a wounded look in his eyes. "I make your days worse?" he asks quietly and his voice sounds so small, you can't help the regret that courses through you.
"Come on, Seungmin," you chuckle warily, "don't you hate me?"
"No?"
"Hate is a strong word, okay. You dislike me."
"I don't. Why would you think that?"
"Because you never wanted to talk to me, from the moment we met. And it wouldn't matter if you were this way with everyone, but it's only me. And you make me feel so small each time I'm around you," you ramble angrily, as Seungmin's eyes widen with each passing second.
"Yn, yn, I don't- I didn't know you felt this way, but I don't hate you. I truly don't, I promise you," he's panicking, voice growing higher with each word, and you feel a sudden embarrassment flood your being for lashing out at him.
You don't know what to say and he sighs, looking up at the cloudy sky before meeting your eyes once again.
"This is embarrassing, God, um..." he places his hoodie on top of your head before running a hand through his face. "I don't talk to you because you make me nervous."
"I do?"
"Yes. A lot," he chuckles, a pink hue tinting his cheeks. "I just... I find you very interesting, and funny, and I like watching you, not in a creepy way, my God what am I saying," he whines, hiding his face in his hands and you can't help the giggle that escapes your mouth.
"Don't laugh," he pouts and you nod, willing the smile to disappear from your face.
"I like watching you exist. Just laugh and smile and talk. You look very pretty doing it. I just don't know how to deal with it. That's on me."
This time the smile is effectively gone from your face. The weight of his confession distracting you from the turmoil of emotions that swirled within you.
"I'm sorry, for making you feel that way. I never meant to. For what it's worth, you make me feel like a small kid again, as if I'm having a crush for the first time."
A fresh wave of tears brims in your waterline, and Seungmin's eyes soften at the sight.
"Please don't cry," he says, gently wiping the rain droplets from your cheeks. "I don't hate you, I think I like you too much and that's the problem."
I'm sorry I misjudged you, until you wiped my tears off away
"Okay," you say quietly, your mind not yet registering what he said, too busy focusing on his hands on your face. You can't believe you've ever felt invisible because of Seungmin, when he's looking at you like you're the most precious being in the world.
"You had a bad day?" he asks, his knuckles brushing against your cheek tenderly, and you nod, silently.
"Would you like a hug?" he asks, and you nod again. A hug sounded nice.
He steps forward, wrapping his arms around you. His t-shirt is cold, clinging to his now wet skin. But a surprising warmth emanates from his chest, shielding you from the pouring rain- it travels from his body to yours, as if it's a familiar path, one it underwent a million times before. His hand finds your back, and he pats it gently, following a soothing rhythm, one you try to sync your breathing to. "You did well," he whispers, "you always do well," and his words feel like a patch of shade on a scorching day.
You exhale softly, tightening your arms around his waist. You think you can stay here, for a while. You could rest in Seungmin, now and tomorrow, and maybe for the following months. If he still likes you this much.
Bonus
"I'm ready," Seungmin says, his soft hair tickling your bare skin. He's laying on top of your stomach, black tie undone, a piece of crumpled paper in his hands. You can tell he's nervous, with the way he looks up at the ceiling, avoiding your gaze. You lean down, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his head. He closes his eyes, his hold on the yellowed paper slightly faltering.
"I'm all ears," you whisper, and he smiles softly at you, before looking at his written vows- the ones you decided to read to each other after your wedding ceremony, just the two of you, in your personal bubble. It feels much more intimate this way, they are words meant for you only to hear, after all.
"My love," he starts, and he can already feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He blinks repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to keep them at bay. "If I'm reading this it means I finally married you, which is probably the best thing I've ever done in my life." You giggle and he can't help but smile at the sound of your laugh.
"I am writing these vows one year into our relationship, I haven't proposed yet, but I just know you're the one I want to marry. And I suppose I don't want to forget everything I want to say to you, when that day comes." His words make your breath hitch in your throat as realization dawns on you- he wrote this three years ago, and he kept it safe, till this day.
"I still remember when I saw you for the first time. I couldn't talk because you looked so pretty, and you were smiling at Felix and I felt an overwhelming need to be the one you were smiling at. I think you cast a spell on me because I couldn't even ask you about your major back, I couldn't believe how awestruck I was. But you already know this, don't you?" He looks up at you, pressing a quick kiss to your stomach and you smile widely. You still remember when Seungmin recounted the first time you met, from his perspective. Rosy cheeks and fumbling words as he explained how much he felt for you in that instant, and how little he could express it.
"But there are still things I haven't told you," he clears his throat. "Like how Felix told me what horror movie he was planning to watch with you, and I looked it up the night before, to memorize all the jump scares just in case you were afraid. And you were, and I'm glad I did. I don't even like horror movies, but it was worth watching it three times in a row, just for you."
"Also, how I had to run out of my class to yours, so I'd catch you after the end of your presentation. I bought that chocolate only for you. I kept a stack of fifteen bars hidden in my desk, just in case you were feeling down, and you ended up needing it. I kept asking Felix about everything you liked, and disliked, and he was probably sick of me at that time," he chuckles, as memories of begging his roommate for any bit of information about you flooded his mind.
"I don't know how far into the future it'll be when I'll finally read this to you. I don't know how I'll be, or where I'll be, but as long as you're with me then I must be okay. I used to overthink everything, plan every part of my life so it'd run smoothly. That is until you came into my life, so suddenly, and you flipped it upside down. I didn't care to plan my life anymore, all that mattered is that it revolved around you," he pauses, sucking in a deep breath.
"I knew I wanted to marry you when you took me stargazing. You talked about the stars and galaxies so excitedly. And then you brought up Saturn; how it was unique among the planets, adorned with thousands of ringlets. And I remember thinking that you're my saturn, you're the dazzling planet that everyone admires and I'm the ring spinning around you, the one you're keeping afloat. And as long as you're here, I have a purpose and I'm okay. So please..." his voice wavers, as silent tears slip out of his eyes.
"Don't leave me. I know we're married now, but still, don't leave me. I love you. I feel like I've loved you in different lifetimes, in different earths and timelines. Everything can come crashing down around us, but one thing that'll forever remain the same is my love for you. I was made to love you, after all. My eyes were made to look at you, and my hands to graze your cheeks. And my heart... My heart was made to beat for you. And I love you. I feel like I don't say it enough but I truly love you. As long as I'm breathing then I'm yours."
#seungmin x reader#kim seungmin x reader#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#skz x you#stray kids x you#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#skz angst#stray kids angst#seungmin fluff#seungmin angst#kim seungmin imagines#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#skz fanfic#seungmin fanfic#seungmin fic#skz soft hours#skz au#skz x y/n#stray kids x y/n#skz song series#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#stray kids fanfic#stray kids fanfiction#skz soft thoughts#stray kids soft thoughts#stray kids soft hours
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sober me up
(what happens when the one piece boys are drunk?)
characters: portgas d. ace, trafalgar d. water law, sanji.
note: personally i've never been drunk enough to the point where i lose my mind or anything like that ... so this is just based off of my imagination and stuff i see in movies ;;
cw/ tags: gender neutral reader, mentions of alcohol, unestablished relationship, mutual pining.
portgas d. ace
"woah,” ace whispers, head tilted to one side as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes, saying your name in the same way he did when he met you for the first time.“is that really you?”
you're not sure if he’s putting up an act to flirt, or if he’s actually so drunk to the point where he can’t tell his imagination from reality. not knowing how to reply, you hand him a glass of water in a fluster in hopes that he’ll sober up, and he downs the entire thing in one go, mistaking it for liquor.
“wow,” ace says again, awestruck. it’s like his eyes are put in a spell to look at nothing else but you. his reaches for your face, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. nonsense runs off his tongue as he stumbles deep into your gaze in spirals. “you're so pretty i could kiss you.”
he pauses. “can i?”
fuck it, you think. he’s drunk out of his mind, you're tipsy enough to use it as an excuse. it won't hurt if you kissed your best friend who you’ve been pining for since the dawn of time when he won't even remember anything the day after, right?
so you agree to his request, and ace wastes no time with how quickly he slides his tongue into your mouth just after two seconds of his lips meeting yours— it’s like he doesn't want you to breathe.
when he finally lets go of you, you gasp like a fish out of water while he looks at you stupidly. his mind is filled with you, you, you. one kiss isn't enough to satisfy him— he’s been dreaming of this for months, afterall. with both hands on either side of your face, he makes a bold statement once again.
“let’s do that again.”
trafalgar d. water law
law doesn't drink much, but he can't say no to his crew when they offer. initially, he planned to stay sober for the rest of the night to look after all of you, but as shachi and penguin continue to pour him drink after drink, his head grows heavier with every sip of liquor.
he stays quiet even when he’s drunk. no bold confessions, no impulsive acts, nothing. he just watches his crew drink themselves stupid, the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.
with the loud hustle of the bar and the deafening laughter of your crewmates, it’s hard to notice how intoxicated law has become until you feel a foreign weight on your shoulder. a white fur hat lands on your lap, and you only realise your captain’s resting his head on you with his eyes closed then.
“captain?” you say. your heart’s beating out of your chest. “captain, you're drunk.”
“i know.” he mumbles in reply, looking silly with his cheek squished against your shoulder.
“let me get you some water.” you try to move out of your seat, but your body doesn't budge. law’s arm holds you down firmly, and you feel the skin under his touch tingle. “captain," you say again, weaker this time. you're not sure if your lungs are working properly with how he's rendered you breathless. "you've gotta let me go," you say, betraying your heart.
"no," law mumbles against you. his hold on you tightens, and you swear he's nuzzling into your neck.
at that point, you decide that he's had one too many and that he needs to be sobered up or else he'd be in a sour mood the morning after. you awkwardly prop his arm on your shoulders as you drag him back to the polar tang with the knowing gazes of your crewmates on your backs, your captain's hat in your hand as you strain to support his weight.
"ah, young love." penguin sighs.
sanji
being an absolute lightweight, sanji's already swaying with his tie off and a few buttons undone after two shots.
"oh, my love." he sing-songs. my love? you raise an eyebrow at the nickname. "the way you look at me makes my stomach flip. your eyes are brighter than the stars, and the way you say my name tugs at my heartstrings. would you make a poor man like me happy by just looking his way?" he rambles, freestyling a verbal love letter for you right then and there. you've heard him do the same for robin and nami, but never for you. (until now, of course.)
the crew's swordsman physically cringes in second-hand embarrassment. "curly, do all of us a favor and shut that mouth of yours."
miraculously, sanji doesn't retort like he usually does. instead, he takes your hand in his as he continues his weird love poem. "if only this wasn't a dream, and i had the courage to confess my love for you in the real world. alas!"
... and he starts crying. actual tears rolling down his cheeks and everything. "but i know you would never love a pathetic man like me!" he sobs into your lap, kneeling before you as your ship's navigator averts her gaze out of embarrassment, grumbling about how her efforts of keeping his secret are wasted.
though ridiculously stupid, his confession made your heart stop. after all this time, it turns out that he's equally as smitten as you are when you thought his heart belonged to someone else. (it's hard not to assume with the way he behaves around good-looking women.)
"why did nobody tell me...?" you ask, looking around as the strawhats look away with a supressed grin.
"because he said he'll kick our asses if any of us said anything. geez, both of you are so stupid. can't you see the way he makes those disgusting heart eyes at you every time you pass by?" the swordsman grumbles.
sanji's arms are still tightly wrapped around your waist after he's done with his improv love poem. "you're so warm, even in my dreams..." he mumbles. it seems like he still hasn't realized this isn't a dream.
the two of you are going to have a looooong talk when he sobers up, you're sure.
#one piece x reader#law x reader#portgas d ace#portgas d ace x reader#sanji x reader#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar d law x reader#trafalgar law#sanji#one piece fluff#one piece x reader fluff
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Give You Everything
Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Reader (Tav)
Summary: Halsin gives you some morning loving. No plot. Just fluffy smut. 💕
Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Oral (fem receiving), mentions of m receiving.
WC: ~1300
A/N: My hand slipped. Oops. 😏 I have no reason for this besides Halsin consuming my thoughts by being the big sexy romantic he is. This takes place years after the end of BG3, however you may imagine it. Maybe Tav and Halsin live in a cottage in the woods? Anyway, I hope you all enjoy. Let me know what you think!
You wake to Halsin’s lips on yours, tasting vaguely of honey and figs he must have snacked on before gently rousing you.
You stirred, eyes opening as you stretched under the animal furs you were tucked into.
“No need to rise, my love.” Halsin kissed your exposed shoulder. “I’m coming back to join you.”
Halsin often woke with the sun, greeting the day with a stroll in his bear form. You usually joined him, but he must have let you sleep this morning.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” You mumbled, turning toward him, realizing the sun had already risen based on the bright light speckling through the paned window.
“You looked so peaceful, I did not want to disturb your dreams.”
Halsin huddled his face into your neck, inhaling your scent, gently tracing his large hand up your arm.
“Not to mention, I wanted to keep you in bed.”
Halsin’s hand lazily trailed up your torso, reverently cupping your breast and giving it a light squeeze.
“Is that right, my bear?” You chuckled, a faint sigh departing your lips immediately after as Halsin brushed his thumb over your hardening nipple.
“Why, oh why, would you want to keep me in bed on such a lovely morning?” You hovered your lips close to his in a teasing manner, catching his eye that was tinted with a familiar hunger.
“It is best I show you, my heart.” Halsin rumbled as he maneuvered himself on top of you momentarily, pulling the furs off your body.
You were naked, as that is how you slept together. He was naked as well, shedding his clothing from his morning walkabout to join you once again in bed.
Halsin ran his hands down your thighs, taking worshipful handfuls of your supple skin.
He paused, gazing over you.
“Always so perfect. Nothing, nothing in all of nature could ever compare to you.”
Halsin brought his lips down to your inner thigh, maintaining eye contact as he kissed your flushed skin.
“As the sun rose, I was reminded of you.” He slowly made his way up toward your core, dampening with anticipation.
“A bright light to guide me to new beginnings. Through any hardship or affliction, I know you will always be my rising sun.”
You still blushed at his words, even after years together.
Halsin never held back on his feelings for you, constantly reminding you how deeply he loved you, and how thankful he was to have you by his side.
You reminded him as well, holding dear the bashful look that always crossed his face when doing so. He was a gentle soul at heart. All the more reason to remind him of your love, and let him care for you.
“Was that all you were thinking of this morning?” You whispered, a coy smile turning up your lips, watching him make his way to your center.
Halsin chuckled deeply against your skin, his breath now ghosting over your center, the smell of your arousal stirring the beast within him.
“Perhaps not…I was also reminiscing of the night before last…the sounds that left your lips that evening have not left my mind.”
Halsin brought a finger between your folds, gently circling and exploring.
“I would greatly enjoy hearing those sounds again. If you permit me…” Halsin kissed your clit, his tongue softly probing, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he felt your body squirm and legs tremble by his head.
“Yes, Halsin, always for you…”
You threaded your fingers in his hair as he went to work, slowly licking and sucking at your now thoroughly soaked pussy.
Halsin was in no rush, enjoying every gasp and soft mewl and twitch of your legs as he feasted.
He carefully moved your legs over his massive shoulders to gain better access, holding you in place.
At this point, Halsin knew your body even better than you did.
He knew exactly what made you squirm, what made you beg for more, what made you get intensely lost in pleasure.
You knew the same of his body, knowing his most sensitive parts, what pushed him to the limit of his control.
Halsin had never truly been as vulnerable with anyone else in his long life as he is with you.
You knew every part of him, his deepest fears, the darkest corners of his mind. You helped him through his anguish all that time ago, helped him see clearly for the first time in his life.
You held and protected his heart as delicately as one would a newly hatched bird.
He owed everything to you.
“Halsin…” your grip on his hair tightened, tugging in just the way he liked. “More, please…”
Halsin hummed into you in response, knowing he was teasing you by going slowly. He treasured tasting you like this, the sweetest nectar in nature could never compare.
It was a taste he craved daily.
He didn’t want to be too selfish, though. He knew you were desperate for release.
How could he ever deny you such ecstasy?
Halsin picked up his pace, switching between circling your clit with his tongue and fucking you as deep as he could go with his warm muscle.
You cried out, the fire in your belly growing. You knew Halsin was aching between his legs, his body begging for his release.
Sometimes, getting you off like this was enough, coming to his end without touch.
You hoped you could taste him, though, to give back what he so selflessly offers to you.
The sounds were obscene as he lost himself between your legs, mixing with your trembling moans and cries. He was wildly lapping and licking and stroking with his tongue, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs.
“H-Halsin I’m-I’m so close, don’t stop!” You managed to coherently string together one sentence, the molten coil in your belly threatening to explode with each pass of his tongue.
You were gripping his hair with both hands now, bucking up at him to get the most pressure possible as your climax was rushing toward you.
Halsin was growling against your pussy, his chin dripping with your slick, his hips instinctually bucking for any type of friction against his cock.
Your body was shaking and Halsin knew you were about to explode.
You came with a cry of his name, chanting it like a prayer to the Gods as you fell over the precipice of bliss. Halsin didn’t let up, keeping up his ministrations, drinking up your essence.
Halsin didn’t want to waste one drop of your pleasure.
Your body spasmed, toes curling as your mind went blank.
Soon, the flicks of his tongue were becoming too much, coming down from your heaven.
You gently pushed him away and Halsin lifted his head, his eyes flashing gold momentarily as his eyes locked on your body, licking his lips, savoring your taste.
“Beautiful, my heart. Perfection.”
You were trying to catch your breath, your body gelatinous. You motioned for him to come back on top of you.
Halsin crawled up your body, hovering over you. You lifted your head, capturing his lips to yours in a fervent kiss of thanks. Your tongues danced, Halsin immediately submitting to your passion. Your hands grasped at his back, pulling him down into you.
Halsin let out a deep groan as you rubbed your sensitive pussy on his throbbing cock.
“Take me, my love. Take your pleasure, too.” You nibbled at his bottom lip, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Believe me when I say I get my greatest pleasure from watching you come undone on my tongue.” He replied, breaking the kiss momentarily.
“Let me do the same, then.” You smiled against his lips, bringing a hand down to grasp his rigid, thick length. “Come undone on my tongue.”
Halsin shuddered and let out a low moan at your touch, your hand gliding over his hot, velvety skin.
Halsin nipped at your chin, flipping you both so you were on top of him, your legs barely able to straddle his wide body.
“You know I cannot deny you anything, my heart.”
You smiled sweetly, sliding down his body, watching his eyes glow gold at the anticipation of your touch, ready to return him the favor.
-ˏˋ⋆ Thanks for reading, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! ⋆ˊˎ-
#Halsin x reader#halsin x tav#halsin bg3#halsin#halsin silverbough#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate 3#halsin smut#x reader#owlwrites#bg3 halsin#Bg3 fanfiction#halsin x fem!reader#Halsin x fem!tav
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