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#I don want it to happen again
blitz0hno · 15 days
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So after our ermmmmm turbulent first relationship-turned-situationship of 2 years w our ex highschool best friend our longest lasting relationship is <24hrs total and still managed to end w the person saying I'm terrible???? Fuck.
Tough thing is, I did my damn best but every time I explain this shit it'll ALWAYS sound like I'm leaving something out that I did wrong; but I was always the one apologizing even growing up I always had to apologize, is there just something about me that makes my actions more severe? Why do I have to feel guilty over people who never cared to actually know me? Did I not work hard enough to be "known"? I only ever wanted to see them happy and I thought I expressed that.
Why do people think that it's ok to try and gaslight me just so they don't have to admit fault? I know she blocked me and I said I respected that, only for her to try to tell me that I didn't care. Well I admit fault when it's mine, but the minute I ask the same of the other person they just act like I want to be "right." Well am I wrong for wanting to be CONSIDERED? For wanting my perspective acknowledged the way I take theirs into account?
Plenty of people find others that care for them like that. Why do people stop caring about what I need just because I act independent? I don't even ask for much. I had to stop myself from asking for "basic kindness" when she asked me what I wanted in a partner at the risk of sounding pathetic, but I guess I don't even get that. I just upset motherfuckers one way or another, I don't even have to do anything but be myself.
Is it something you really do earn? Something I have yet to lower myself to deserve? I want someone to be fucking honest with me, allow me to be honest as well, and not abandon me for it. Someone needs to tell me what the fuck I'm doing wrong. Is everyone I'm close with just going to freak out and run the other way the SECOND I mess up, just because I normally don't? Because I try so hard not to, I'm just expected not to? Not an ounce or effort of forgiveness that makes me give people chance after chance even when they hurt me?
Don't lie about me.
It's ok for everyone else but not for me.
Why? Hey,
why can't I just get it right?
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kasumingo · 8 months
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my favorite donnie trait how he tries to act like nothing affects him at times and then sometimes he blurts out in tears that you never loved him, respected him and doesn't want him around if he's not useful
While the characters look like they've been slapped
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oohbuggypie · 2 months
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hai Punch Out!! buddies 🩷 ive had this little series idea in my head for over a month now; i would like to call it "HOME" !! and though it would take a lot of time, patience, thinking etc., id rlly love to try my best and execute it ! but i genuinely need help to make it happen !! so first things first:
second:: i have a series of questions !! if u can, pls answer in RBs or replies section 🩷
1. what would King Hippo's island look like more in depth ? since Hippo Island is fictional, i think some unrealistic / fun elements could be added: would the sand be a unique color? would the water have unique properties? would there be specific kinds of plants that grow there? anybody that has any deeper and/or fun headcanons about what his island would look like, go wild !! realism does not matter for this one !
2. what kind of car would Macho Man drive ?? i personally have an affinity for old cars so im probably gonna lean more towards those, but more basic questions would be better: what color do you think he'd have the exterior painted? any fun ideas for his special license plate ? any headcanons for special details on the tires, steering wheel, interior, etc.? what color would the interior be?
3. if anybody has some personal experiences or insight into comfort places / restaurants in Berlin, Moscow, Paris, Istanbul, Dublin, Philly, Tokyo, etc., id love to hear abt it so i can get a more immersive gauge into what im working with ! just hearing abt the atmosphere, dishes served, special features, attitudes of people there (if it isn't an isolated spot), etc. would be more than enough help 🩷 this is one of the most important questions i have for this entire idea, so if u would like to ignore any of the questions, don't let it b this one !!
4. what are some general headcanons you have about ANY OF the character's personalities outside the ring ? this is not exclusive to the characters listed in the poll!! do you have any headcanons about their lives back at home ? what do u think they enjoy doing besides boxing ? outside of those questions, literally ANY headcanons regardless of whether u think they're relevant or not is super fun and helpful !!
if i have more questions ill either edit this post or make separate ones ! i don't usually ask specifically for more reach but i would def appreciate reblogs so that the poll can get some votes and i can start compiling ideas from u guys 🩷 this will def take some time and research if i can make it happen but i wanna do this so bad !! thank u 2 anybody who helps w this genuinely < 3
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youredreamingofroo · 4 months
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♡ Happy Valentine's Day ♡
prev / next Transcript under cut ♡
Cataleya: Don't you want to start with cake? Or champagne first??
Alexander: I want to start with you Cataleya: Ouh....
Cataleya: I have something to show you ;)
Alexander: God I could just devour you. Cataleya: Then devour me.
Flirty +1 Ovulation It's that day of the cycle! Cataleya is ovulating!
[I love you-]
[Even if it's wrong]
Happy Valentine's Day
Alexander: Cataleya? Are you okay in there?
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hirokiyuu · 1 year
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Nem/Tangent, 19
19. drunk, at the end of your rope
Tangent's hair's grown out since the last time Anemone saw her, still all uneven with the longest bits hitting nearly her shoulders; there's a bottle half-drank in her hand as Tangent swings her legs where she sits with them sticking out of the railing on the walls. "You're not supposed to be up here," says Anemone, and if she were a better person her voice were be gentle but as it is she knows it just comes out wary.
Tangent laughs at that, long and loud, and then flings the bottle from her hand over into the wilderness. "Who cares," she says, and despite the redness of her face, Tang's talking slow enough that all her words still come up perfectly crisp. "Who even fucking cares."
"Uh, me?"
Again Tangent laughs, flopping backwards to look up at Anemone, and Anemone can't help but stare in return. She's pretty sure she's never seen Tangent flop before. "Don't lie." The smile on Tangent's face is brilliant and cold as ice. "When was the last time you even bothered to speak to me, Nem?"
Against her will Anemone flinches. "I'm not... Don't call me that."
"Why not?"
"It's not...." There's no point arguing with a drunk woman. She shakes her head, kneels down, tries to get Tangent to sit back up. "Come on, let's get you back in."
"I don't want to." Each word is sung out crisply, Tangent a dead weight against her, that awful smile still on her face. "Maybe my mother had a point, do you think I should just throw myself off the wall?"
Bloody hell. Good thing she threw away the fucking bottle already, or else Anemone'd wrench it out of her grasp herself. "You need to sober up," she says, managing to at least tug Tangent back so her legs aren't tangled in the fence anymore. "Come on. Let's go inside."
"Or maybe I should take a leaf from my brother's book and go get a bomb," Tangent continues, deadweight in Anemone's hold. "Blow a hole in the wall, or maybe I'll just hit the statue, that might be fun. Let Sol die twice instead of just--fuck!"
She scowls up at Anemone but Anemone can't even feel bad for dropping her, her hands fuzzy and her breathing suddenly shuddering out of her. "Don't you ever say that again," she manages. "Don't you ever say anything like that ever again, Tangent, do you hear me?"
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ambreiiigns · 1 year
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finally coming out as someone who got way too passionate about jackass (the mtv show and movies)
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curlycries · 2 years
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just realized stede ran back to his old life because his old life was familiar, and after that traumatic death he witnessed (which he absolutely blamed himself for), his mind decided it would rather him feel nothing in a place that made sense than have to face what happened.
he would rather be numb than in pain, which is the very same thing edward chose.
#ofmd#stede my beloved#babygirl ed#emmagination#no one touch me i’m dying on the floor crying sobbing#but yeah. after that shit there is no way stedes mind would ever have let him go to some place where everything is new.#mary? the kids? this aching numbness? THIS he KNOWS- he can handle it#china? a new life with ed? that would mean having to face the fact that things have changed and the events of that night actually happened#and his mind just went straight up ‘nope’ and blocked it all out#this would also explain why he was so upset that mary had moved on without him && had donned the title of the widow bonnet#it was a sort of proof that it had all happened exactly as the memory that his mind was trying SO HARD to suppress#and at the moment he needed something to ground him. he needed something that was the same as he remembered#and he wasn’t getting that so he lashed out#which was a bitchy move i’ll admit#:\#so when stede finally says ‘i don’t fit here anymore do i?’#that’s only after the shock of almost being killed AGAIN by someone he thought he knew AGAIN breaks him out of his stupor#and he can finally admit that things HAVE changed and there’s no going back to what it used to be. he will no longer find numbness here.#only more pain.#and this parallels with the way that ed threw out all of stedes things EXCEPT WHAT WAS HIDDEN because he wanted to forget stede ever existed#or that he ever felt the way he did about him.#he chose numbness as well#and lucius#who was the only person on that ship who could have ever broken him out of that#he killed#as for the auxiliary wardrobe- that’s hidden.#just like stede he wasn’t able to completely forget the way he wanted to#so instead. he’ll keep it and his feelings for stede HIDDEN in the hopes that they will eventually be forgotten#i love my blorbos#:((( my baby boy omg
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tinycatstars · 9 months
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sumtimes regressign is being in that inbetween space and watching a charlie slimecicle stream while eating watermelon. n thats ok
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zephyrchama · 2 months
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Mammon stares down at his youngest brother snoozing away on your lap. Belphegor has made himself at home with your thigh as a makeshift pillow. It’s far from the first time this has happened, and very unlikely to be the last. Any more, he just walks over and does it, falling asleep within moments without even asking. He’ll wake up if you try to stand. As long as you can still study, read, or scroll your D.D.D., it’s usually not too bothersome and easier to let Belphegor do what he wants.
The scowl on Mammon’s face says otherwise. “Ya really gonna let him walk, err, sleep all over you like that? How many time’s he done that this week?” He tisks and stomps his foot, looming over you with crossed arms. “Belphie, wake your ass up! Yer big bro has a bone to pick with you!”
You feel a warm exhalation on your leg. Belphegor seems to be sighing, but doesn’t bother opening his eyes or acknowledging Mammon in any other way, much to the elder’s chagrin.
“Push him off!” Mammon insists.
“I’m flattered you think I’m strong enough to push a full grown demon off of me,” you admit, lightly ruffling Belphegor’s hair. “But, no. I’m not.”
“Don’t encourage ‘im!” Mammon grabs Belphegor by the collar.
At this provocation, the youngest curls an arm under your thigh and nudges his nose into the fabric of your clothes. He refuses to budge. “They don’t mind it, so just leave us alone.” Belphegor’s muffled voice sounds tired and annoyed.
“Belphie, let go! Ugh, use your pact!” Mammon literally growls. “Don’t coddle this jerk, you spoil him too much!”
“Don’t yell at me about it! I’m just sitting here!” you pout. ”And Belphie, watch where you’re grabbing.” It’s not your fault these guys go crazy over you. “Pact orders are painful for you guys, yeah? I don’t want to go through all that trouble. I’m still learning how to control the magic and it’s not worth it right now.”
“Hah? You kiddin’ me?” Mammon taps his foot and gnashes his teeth as Belphegor gives him the cold shoulder. “Fine then. Be that way.”
He goes to walk away, but abruptly turns back and returns. It’s evident when Mammon gets a new idea into his head. You can practically see the light bulb pop up over his head as he dons a cheeky grin.
“Spread your legs for me,” he demands.
“What?” Now you’re staring at him, disbelief etched into your features. You knew Mammon had the occasional lewd thought but even for him this was brazen. Maybe his brothers are right and he’s finally lost it.
“Spread your legs for the Great Mammon! C’mon!”
Belphegor snorts and turns his head ever so slightly, just enough to give his dumb older brother the evil eye. Mammon is tired of waiting and seizes his chance to yank your knees apart. By your own admission, you can’t fight the strength of a full grown demon.
“You’ve got two legs, there’s plenty a room for two demons here.” There isn’t exactly much space, but Mammon lays his head back on your thigh and grins up at you, bumping his noggin against Belphegor in the process.
Ah. You realize this was his goal and Mammon was just being too stubborn to come out and say it.
Your face grew hot. It felt weird to manspread with two doting demons on your legs. “You really could have phrased that better.”
“Whatddya mean?”
You sigh. “Think about it.”
Belphegor exhales again, probably laughing under his breath this time as he re-adjusts his arm to a cozier position.
Mammon is content just to admire you from below until he connects the dots, and a deep red blush spreads across his face. He turns, winding his arms around your back to better hide his face in the folds of your shirt.
He closes his eyes against you, his nose brushing against your side. “I don’ wanna think ‘bout anything. I work too hard, just lemme rest here a while.”
You allow it, ruffling his hair knowing full well you coddle both of them too much.
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peachesofteal · 6 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbor fic - reader POV - cw: grief Simon Riley/female reader
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"Breathe, honey. Try to take a deep breath for me."
Simon is frantic, cradling your face in his hands, pulling away your own to try to look in your eyes, his own wide with horror, worry.
This isn't fair. This isn't right. This is confusing.
"I- I'm sorry." You sob, because it's the only thing you can say, the only thing he can think of, and he shakes his head like he disagrees with you.
"No, no. Sorry for what?" You can't make it make sense, to him, in your own head, and when you try to talk, nothing comes out but a broken cry. "Shhh. You're alright. Just breathe." He tries to soothe you, and it only makes you cry harder, sob welling in your chest. "Are you hurt?"
"No!" you protest. "No, you didn't... I'm not... I-"
"Okay, okay. Hey, look at me sweetheart. I'm right here, I've got you." He coos, still holding you, wiping your tears, keeping you close. "You're okay." You bury your face in his chest, letting him wrap you up, cuddle you close, all while your mind spins and spirals, heart aching like it's been broken all over again. This wasn't supposed to happen. You're not supposed to feel this way. You're supposed to be happy. Aren't you happy?
"I'm sorry." You whisper when you find your voice, and he hums a raspy rebuttal. "No, I... you don't deserve this, to be saddled with this, a-" A widow, and a baby. An emotional basket case. A burden.
"Stop." He looks down at you with sincerity, severe certainty in his eyes, and you gulp at the intensity, shuddering when his lips graze your skin gently. "I don't deserve you, sweetheart. I know that for sure, but not in the way you're thinking right now. I'm not being saddled with anything."
"You don't understand." You shake your head.
"Then tell me." He encourages. "Tell me. I'll listen." He caresses your cheek, touch gentle and caring, devoted, and you close your eyes.
"Okay."
Simon makes you a cup of tea. When he returns to press it into your hands, you're sitting up in bed, donning one of the t shirts you found on the floor.
"Is that my shirt?" He asks, cocking his head, and you nod bashfully, lip tucked between your teeth. "Looks good on you." You reach for the mug with shaking hands, trying to take a deep breath and collect your thoughts. "Take your time." He murmurs. "I'm here. We've got all night." He's not going to want you anymore, once he realizes. Once you tell him how you feel, what you're thinking. You shake the thoughts free, trying to banish them. He said you could tell him. You trust him. You can do this. Just be honest.
"Emmaline's dad died the week we found out we were pregnant." You whisper, unable to look at him. "It was a housing fire, big building. Like this one." You take a sip, watching the way his fingers sit lax in the bed, close enough to touch you, but giving you space. "There was a power surge, or something. Half the city lost electricity and he got called in. It wasn't unusual, he was a Lieutenant, and they're responsible for a crew, a truck. I thought... I thought I'd just go to bed, wake up in the morning, and he'd be there next to me. Like always, on big calls."
"But he wasn't."
"He wasn't. Instead, his Engineer, and his Captain, were at my door with his helmet in their hands." You bite down on your tongue, fruitlessly stalling the tears and the breakdown that's fighting it's way up your throat. "I loved him so much." As soon as you say it, your voice breaks, vision going blurry, and Simon reaches for you, holding your free hand, stroking a thumb across your knuckles. "I haven't been... I haven't been with anyone, since then."
"Oh, sweetheart." You set the tea down on the table next to the bed, pulling air in through your nose as much as you can, trying to regulate your heart rate, your breathing.
"I thought I knew what love was." You whisper, peeking up at him, soft brown eyes watching you patiently. "But this... feels different. It feels like... more. And that... that makes me feel like I'm betraying him. Like I'm dishonoring the love we shared. I feel guilty, and awful, like I'm doing something wrong." You close your eyes, losing your control, your battle, lower lip trembling with a sob. It tumbles out of you, hoarse and raw, everything falling away as you cry. There's a knife, in your chest, in your heart, twisting and sawing and stabbing, and it hurts, it hurts so badly, the sharp ache only soothed when Simon pulls you into his arms, cradling you against his chest, hand smoothing up and down your spine.
"Sh-shhh." He's settled you into his lap completely now, legs and hips and entire body, wrapped up tight, safe and secure. A small amount of tension sags away from your frame, relieved that he's not running, white hot guilt and grief and still burning in the pit of your stomach. "You're not doing anything, anything, wrong, sweetheart." He thumbs at a tear on your cheek. "It's natural to feel grief like this, it's normal. But you're not betraying him, or your marriage. He'll always be a part of you, and Emmaline." He's rocking you, murmuring softly above your ear, and you relax more, letting him calm you, put you back together piece by piece, your tears starting to slow, your chest rising and falling at a more regular pace. "I want to tell you something." He says after a while, once it's been quiet for a few minutes. You nod, trying to encourage him. "My mum is gone." You push off from him, looking up into his eyes. They're sad, and you see grief in them, despair, but also a deep depth of love. "She taught me how to cook, when I was a young lad. Always told me it would come in handy, when I fell in love." He takes a deep breath, burying his face in your neck for a second before coming back up for air. "She never got to see that, me with someone else. In love. And for years, I thought I disappointed her, let her down, even in death."
"Simon." You whisper, heart breaking apart all over again for the pain that's embedded across his face, the torment that bleeds from his expression.
"But, ever since I met you- I've thought, maybe she's lookin' out for me. That she's somewhere, out there, still bein' my mum. Sending me angels." He blinks, lashes wet, the tear that drips down your face mirroring his own. "Sending you, and Emma. And maybe your husband, is doing the same." You close your eyes, remembering the first time you ever saw Simon, on the roof, handsome in the morning light, even though he seemed so exhausted. You remember the way he held Emmaline, the first time he gave her a bottle, your little baby so at home in his giant arms, safe and cuddled against his chest like she just fit there. When he came to your rescue in the park, scary enough to make every scatter but all you felt was safety. The first time he kissed you, on his patio in the snow. And tonight, when he promised to give you everything, when he held you, made love to you, promised to take care of you. Your heart races in your chest, fingers clutching onto him, holding as tight as you can.
"Am I your angel, Simon Riley?" You wondered aloud with wide eyes, leaning into him, nose to nose. He kisses you, face wet with tears, voice hoarse when he answers.
"You're mine, as I'm yours, sweetheart."
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kenntolog · 28 days
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sukuna realizing your sad because a classmate was flirting with him and ur just all upset because you thought he dont want u anymore. IM SORR I NEED SOME FLUFF
𝝑𝝔 an: hope u enjoy thisssss!!! read more ab cool bf sukuna x loser reader here!!
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you’ve been avoiding sukuna and he knows it.
it’s not that hard to see when you’re walking around with a sad face, getting to the lecture hall later than him so he doesn’t find a way to sit by your side, not answering his messages properly, not going to his practice games with lame excuses. and honestly, sukuna is kind of hurt because you refuse to acknowledge that he cares and tell him what is bothering you.
but sukuna isn’t dumb. and it was fairly easy to realise that you were upset with him because you were jealous of yorozu from his group literally throwing herself at him at every chance she got. it wasn’t anything new since she has been bothering him from the first year of university, when they were introduced as classmates.
it seemed like yorozu’s sense of obsession with him got stronger with upcoming spring. she was not leaving his side in the hallways, trying to tag along with whatever he was doing even while he didn’t spare her a glance, she was calling him the nickname he only allowed you to use which pissed him off further and she clung to him like a vice, her grip not wavering even when her dumb friends called out to her.
and in these moments, while sukuna’s mind was filled with questions like ‘how to get away with murder’, your insecurities got the best of you, seeing how sukuna, though visibly annoyed, didn’t seem to push her away completely. so you stopped walking up to him in the hallways after classes to plant his favourite types of kisses on his cheeks and you avoided catching his eyes because it hurt.
yorozu is beautiful, her beauty is carnal and almost every guy in the university drools over her so it shouldn’t come off as a surprise that maybe… maybe you aren’t the best choice for sukuna?
it goes on like this for a couple of excruciating days; jin and yuuji don’t risk asking about why sukuna seemingly only busies himself with practice and why he dons a deep scowl. they suspect that it’s something related to you, but don’t interfere and sukuna is happy they don’t. his mind is constantly focused on trying to get to you and as much as he wants to go to your place and talk things out… he’s scared. and he gives you space, thinking that the situation won’t escalate further.
but it does, when he catches you in the empty hallway, trying to get to your class with the saddest expression he’s ever seen you have. sukuna calls out to you, speeding up his steps and you stop, something hopeful burning in your eyes as you wait for him patiently.
yet, of course, yorozu appears out of nowhere with her wide smile and catches up to him quickly. sukuna sees the hope in your eyes quickly switch to betrayal, your bottom lip trembling and eyes glistening with tears as you turn away and run towards the bathroom. something cracks inside of him. but this time he’s not going to let damned yorozu stop him.
he rips his arm away from her grip, stepping back instantly while she looks up at him as if nothing is happening, “piss off or i will get violent.”
“‘kunaa~ why you gotta be so rude?” she leans her head against his shoulder insistently, batting her eyelashes at him. his eyes only see red when he hears the nickname again and he decides that he’s gonna use a different method this time.
he slowly guides his hand up her arm, feeling her relax under his touch, and weaves his fingers through her hair gently before his grip tightens and he tugs her head back roughly.
finally her face displays something other than satisfaction and that ugly smirk, and he shakes her in his hold while his other hand covers her mouth to stop her from making any sounds.
“don’t ever fuckin’ call me that,” he leans closer to her face. “and if you come up to me anytime again i won’t stop at this.”
she whimpers and nods shakily, trying to pull away before he harshly lets go of her hair, causing her to fall down.
he runs to the bathroom quickly, entering without any care and looks under the cabins to see where you are, but you seem to have found another place to hide while he was busy with yorozu. sukuna runs around looking through empty classes until he finally finds you in the art class, sitting in the corner farthest from the door and sniffling quietly.
“baby?” you jolt in your spot and cover your face with your hands, hurriedly wiping away your tears. he approaches you slowly, his hands itching to touch you, but he understands that you might not want that. “you cryin’?”
“no?” you croak out, sobbing a little more and sukuna feels like getting punched in the face repeatedly. you finally look at him, and sukuna steps closer to stand between your legs.
“‘m sorry.”
“you don’t have to apologise, y’know? ‘s okay if you like her.”
now, that’s crazy. “the fuck? i hate that bitch.”
you give him an unsure look and he sinks onto his knees before you, tugging your hands down from your face before he cups your jaw like he loves to do. you pout at him, still sniffling and trying to avoid his gaze, but he doesn’t let you, gently shaking your head to make you focus on him.
“look at me, baby.”
“‘m looking, ‘kuna.”
“no, do it properly.”
you take a few deep breaths, wiping your nose with your sleeve messily. and lock gazes with him. sukuna leans down, slotting his lips against yours, his free hand resting on top of your head. the weight of it is familiar to you, making you relax into him, your hands wrapping around his arm.
he pulls away, stroking your hair as he looks down at you with a gentle look in his eyes.
“i don’t want her. i only want you and i want you to engrave it into your thick skull or i will do it myself.”
you give him an unsure smile, eyes a little bit brighter now.
“i’m sorry for makin’ you feel like this.”
“i’m sorry for not talking to you about it.”
sukuna nods at you, hugging you close to his chest and kissing the top of your head lovingly, before he tightens his hold on you so much you start punching his back.
“but if you ever decide to run from me again i will kill you.”
“‘kuna, can’t breathe—”
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certifiedyapperx · 2 months
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Captain John Price • broken.
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PAIRING: John Price x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: the result of my poll. in short, you tell your captain that the reason you’ve only dated one man is because your ex said you were broken due to your inability to orgasm; and price offers to show you that the only thing broken was your confidence.
WORD COUNT: 5.3k (got carried away.)
TAGS: 18+, PURE FILTHY SMUT MDNI, Slight Degradation, Praise, Multiple Orgasm, PIV, Semi-Public Sex, Dirty Talk, Absurd amount of swearing, Fingering, Price being daddy as fuck.
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"What about that ex girlfriend of yours, Gaz?"
As soon as those words left the Scottish lads lips, everyone in the room was giggling like a lot of fucking schoolgirls. You'd be lying if you said that didn't include yourself.
"You want to talk about ex girlfriends now, Soap?" Gaz sat forward in his chair, eyeing his grinning teammate from across the room, the grip on his glass so tight you were worried it'd shatter between his fingers. "What about that woman you boned in Prague? The one that wanted, oh--how do I say it...a little ride on train 141."
"Nuthin' little about that train." Ghost added through a choked chuckle, barely able to get the words out.
Your fucking abdomen was starting to get sore from the amount of laughing you'd done tonight. These men were absolutely ridiculous. You'd never heard more obscene sex stories in your damn life, and they've got a bloody abundance of them--the back and fourth taunting over who fucked who and who did what never seemed to end. It was almost three in the morning and they were still going strong.
"Aye," Soap leaned back in his chair, bringing his glass up to his lips and taking a slow sip, wide eyes gleaming as he reminisced. "Fuckn' wild one, that one. Had her nice and tamed for me by the end of that deployment.”
"Aye, the fucking woman whisperer, this one," Ghost chimed in again, his balaclava half pulled up, exposing his stubble-donned chin and grinning lips as he took a hefty swig of bourbon. Not even fazed. "Almost as smooth as Price."
Everyone in the room chuckled, nodding and muttering words of agreement, but you were stuck in place--still absentmindedly staring at Ghost while turning the words over in your mind, curiosity piqued.
"Price?" His name left your lips before you could even attempt to prevent it.
All eyes in the room shifted toward you, and Gaz cocked an eyebrow. "You've never heard any of his stories?"
Ghost shot him a look. "Clearly not."
"I mean, I've heard some..." you mumbled, awkwardly trying to fix the mess you've just made. Your gaze darted between the three men staring at you, each set of eyes glazed with confusion, clearly trying to figure out why you were so taken aback. "Captain is far more secretive than the rest of you."
You'd been on the team for a solid eight months. Since recruitment, you'd worked alongside Price every single fucking day, yet the man hardly ever spoke about his personal life.
Unlike the others, who seemed to never stop.
"Around you, yeah." Soap mumbled with a smirk, shooting a knowing glance toward Gaz who instantly returned it.
Your brows knit in confusion. "Around me?"
"Aye." Ghost replied for Soap, and you were practically sitting on the edge of your goddamn seat as you knew he wasn't finished. He shifted lower in his chair as his eyes traced up and down your form. "You're new. You're hot. You've never spoken a word about your own personal life. The man's a bloody nutcase, but he hides it well when he needs to--he probably doesn't want to scare you off."
"Scare me off?" You had to fight to keep your jaw off the floor. Trying to mask your confusion, you cleared your throat. "What's that supposed to mean?"
At your reaction, everyone chuckled again, and your face immediately flushed with blood--shading you the same crimson colour found on a ripe fucking tomato. If there was some joke happening here, it'd clearly flown way above your radar.
And yet, before you or anyone else could even consider speaking again, the man of the hour appeared in the doorway, and you nearly fell out of your chair.
"Valid question." He didn't even acknowledge you as he spoke, eyes fixed on Ghost as he took a step into the room.
Gods, he was fucking attractive—every molecule in your being screamed at the sight of him. You'd done everything you could to ignore that fact for the entirety of your time here, ensuring your focus was trained on keeping things professional--but after two glasses of whiskey and the current topic of conversation, the flood gates were wide fucking open.
"Go on, Ghost," his voice was low, deep as the depths of your desire as his ocean eyes slowly danced around the room. "...I'd like to know the answer as well."
Price took a seat across from you, slouching slightly and nodding toward Soap who promptly poured him a glass of burning brown liquid and slid it across the table. Ghost pulled down his balaclava in attempt to hide his cheeky fucking grin, shrugging as though he had no idea what his Captain was on about. 
"Not sure what you mean, Cap." Ghost quipped, and you could practically hear the beaming delight in his words. "We're just talking."
"Hm," Price side-eyed him, humoured. "You always talk about me?"
"Only when you're not around." Soap chimed in, snuffing a groan in his throat as he'd downed the rest of his drink and stood up, shooting an inebriated nod to each of you. "Well, would you look at the time--I'm gonna' hit the sack. Duty calls, y'know."
Your stomach churned with confusion, your eyes glued to the Scottish bloke who decided it was convenient to make his exit the exact moment Price entered the room. You almost wanted to reach over and yank him back into his seat.
"Keep it classy ya filthy bastards."
He shot you a cheeky wink from beyond the door frame before disappearing into the abyss, only for Gaz and Ghost to rise from their seats as well, seemingly following Soap's lead, muttering excuses about how late it was and how exhausted they were.
Your mind raced at lightning speed, trying to make sense of the sudden exodus. You were going to kill those fuckers in the morning.
Price broke the silence before it had the chance to linger for too long. "It's not personal, you know."
Your heart slammed your sternum. You sucked in a breath and trapped it there. You needed to calm the fuck down--though that seemed like a goddamn impossible task at the moment. Prices' voice was the hypnotizing depth of a black hole. It stirred every last atom within you.
Avoiding his eyes, you straightened in your seat, clearing your throat. "I know."
"Do you?" He cocked an eyebrow, two fingertips tracing the rim of his glass. "I'm not so sure."
You looked up now--almost immediately regretting it as your eyes caught his. You forced words out of your mouth before you could acknowledge how the way he was looking at you made you feel.
"It's because I haven’t opened up to you..." you murmured. "Yeah?"
Price nodded, choosing to remain silent, his gaze anchoring you to the floor—every muscle stiff as stone.
You cleared your throat again. "Well. What do you want to know? My family? Where I grew up-"
"No." He cut you off, leaning forward, elbows resting on the table as his stare intensified. "...I already know all that. You're my recruit, I know everything about your past..." his head tilted, his eyes narrowed, and he pushed his glass to the side, clasping his hands together infront of him. "What I don't know, is why a woman as skilled, as smart, and as undeniably attractive as you, has only ever been with one man."
Blood crystallized in your veins, every ounce of your skin vibrating with an emotion you couldn't identify. He was so close—closer than you'd initially gauged—and that closeness ignited dormant desperation, one you'd nearly forgotten existed.
Your throat was thick. Saliva lodged inside it. "I..."
There was a reason. There was a very good reason as to why you've only been with one man, why you promised to never put yourself through that shit again. But you couldn't bring yourself to say it, you couldn't bring yourself to speak the words aloud. That would mean being vulnerable, humiliatingly vulnerable--one of the many things soldiers were trained not to be.
Captain Price hummed, leaning back slightly, and a swarm of unpreventable desire roared alive in your chest. His attention flicked over you. Like he'd felt it.
He remained silent. He was waiting for an answer.
"It's...um..."
Your brain filtered through pages of plausible excuses until it landed on one. Inhaling a breath, you forced the fibbing syllables past your teeth, shrugging in an attempt to make it believable.
"I just...never found anyone I jived with.”
Price paused, his scrutiny skinning you raw. It was like he knew what was waiting on the edge of your tongue, like he could smell the smoke swirling off the fire below your waist. He wasn't buying it.
"You can't lie to me." His words only confirmed your thoughts. "I mean, theoretically you could, though I'd advise against it."
You swallowed, forcing your eyes to your hands. "I'm not lying."
"Perhaps not," he replied, voice cool as ice. "But you're certainly omitting."
Fuck, he was good. And of course he was--there was a reason he was Captain. He was fucking bred for this. You were certain he could detect a lie from light years away.
"It's embarrassing," you replied, ignoring the thrilled leap your heart made that he'd read you so well. "You'll think less of me."
John Price leaned further across the small table, nibbling the distance between you. The intensity of his focus made your insides tangle, something was undoubtedly churning within his mind. A breath caught in your throat as his eyes held yours.
"I don't care," he stole another inch, and you could now comfortably say that he was well within your personal space. "If this is going to work, there has to be trust. Because you should trust me—as your Captain, and as your friend..." in a single abrupt movement, he stood up, towering over you, eyes boring into the top of your head until he shifted toward the door. "...when you're ready to open up to me, I’ll open up to you."
Ice braced your veins. This was the most conversation you'd had with your Captain since you joined the team, and you were about to blow it with your inability to talk to him. To just telling him the fucking truth. He took a step back from the table, began moving toward the door, and you panicked.
You let him get two steps from reaching it before you jumped up, out of your seat. "Wait!"
Time was a relative concept. But as your Captain spun, and as you linked eyes with him, it slowed. Stopped.
You cleared your throat for the millionth time. "It's because...it's because I'm broken."
Price's eyes widened, only momentarily, before they narrowed--out of curiosity or skepticism, you couldn't tell.
"You’re broken." He said, drawing the words out on his tongue while taking a slow, lengthy step toward you. "Elaborate."
You dropped your eyes to the floor again, catching sight of his brown, rugged combat boots as they stepped into your line of sight. Heat flashed your face, and you shifted on your feet.
"My...my ex...um," your voice was barely above a whisper. Something felt gut-wrenchingly humiliating about having this conversation with your fucking Captain. "He, he kinda fucked with my head, I guess. Made me never want to date again."
You heard an exhale, a huff of enticed breath leaving lungs.
"I think," Price eased closer, and you caught whiff of his cologne--the scent engulfing your senses, sending hunger snarling and snapping for relief. "...you're omitting again."
"Why?..." you blurted, trailing your gaze past the vast expanse of his strong chest and up to his gleaming eyes peering down at you. You blinked. "...do you think that?"
Price raised a brow. "Am I wrong?"
"No, it’s just…” you closed your eyes, took a breath. Let it out. No point in lying. Just rip off the fucking bandaid. "He broke up with me because I couldn't orgasm. He said I was broken because of it. It’s dumb, but it hurt.”
Gods, it felt so fucking stupid that you had to smile, had to damn near laugh at yourself. As much as it sounded so foolish, you'd always just considered that maybe something was actually wrong with you. After all, he was your first, and your only—and the fact that you could never orgasm bothered you, too.
However, when you finally reopened your eyes, swallowing whatever ounces of pride you had left, you found a depth to your Captain's ocean irises that was not there before.
There was something floating inside them, now--something primal, something depraved.
"Interesting." His hand raised from his side, grazing over your cheek and coming to a slow on your neck, the tips of his fingers skimming over your racing pulse. "Broken."
Any blood that had been left in your head was now plummeting to your core.
"Broken." You whispered.
Price exhaled, his breath caressing your face, and you bit your lip to stifle the whimper that wanted to thrust itself past your teeth. Never once would you have considered the thought of actually fucking your Captain--but right here, right now, with the way he was touching you, analyzing you, palpably tempting you--it was becoming more difficult to deny the physical need steaming from your pores.
"This,” his voice was so deep it made your blood sweat, his thumb stroking your pulse. "Doesn't feel broken at all."
Adrenaline surged you, ambushing your lungs with rapid breath, flares of lust sparking over your skin. You leaned into his touch, and he let out a sound that was somewhere between a hum and a straight up growl.
Your pulse soared, your hand finding his wrist. “Captain…”
It would be lying to say you thought this was a good decision. But you couldn't find a fuck within you. After years of denying yourself any sort of physical touch due to the shame that consumed you, Price had perceived it without effort and ordered you strip yourself of pretense in his presence.
"Let me show you...." Price wedged a boot between your feet, his hips brushing yours, other hand finding your hip. "...that the only thing broken is your confidence."
You nearly whimpered. "Please."
Without further contemplation, your eyes darted to his lips the same millisecond his darted to yours, and you both moved at once. Price groaned, one hand shooting into your hair, the other supporting the small of your back, tugging you close. His hungry mouth captured yours, teeth nipping your lower lip as he spun you around and pushed you back against the table.
You groaned into his mouth, your ass hitting the cool metal with abrupt force. His lips attacked your jawline, moved down to your neck, and another groan escaped you, this time in bliss.
"Fuck," you cursed under your breath, throwing your hips into his, allowing desperation to guide you. "Captain..."
A low, menacing noise reverberated in his throat and he seized your neck again, bringing his mouth to your ear.
"My name," he took the lobe between his teeth, earning a squeak. "Say it."
"John—" You gasped, clawing at his back. "Shit."
"Mm. Good girl. So obedient..." he purred, tracing his mouth along the curve of your ear. "So responsive."
"Fuck." Every new beat of your heart brought a desperate pulse to your cunt. His fingers found your hair again, curling into a fist. "John...please..."
Your Captain hummed, just as his lips moved back to your pulse and attacked it, sucking rough rabid marks to the surface, his hips grinding against yours. Your eyelids fluttered shut, and he moved lower, releasing your head to work on removing your clothes.
Before your belt even hit the floor, he was tearing off your shirt and tugging off your bra--exposing your breasts to the cool air of the dimly lit room, surging goosebumps to life that he was quick to cover with his hands, taking the fresh tissue between them and kneading it.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, to himself you presumed. "You're fucking perfect."
There was one brief second of thought surrounding the notion that any one of your teammates could walk in and find the two of you here—but that thought was quickly lost as Price leant down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. You squealed, squeaking in pleasure, and his grip possessed your hips.
"So sensitive..." he said with a grunt. Your Captain wasn't just hungry—he was starved, more voracious by the second, spurred on by your reactions. "Fucking hell."
He leaned back, hooked his fingers under the waist of your pants and pulled, unconcerned for the ripping seams as he forced them down the curve of your thighs. Your head rung, entire body tingling. Paralyzed, you watched your Captain tear off your boots and rip your pants free, tossing them all to the side.
"Fuck me." He muttered again, returning his sights to your figure. "Look at you."
Price examined you like a meal, gaze traveling from your collarbone to your breasts, down past the curve of your belly to the swell of your hips, coming to a slow between your quivering thighs.
Adrenaline had got you this far. Reality was setting in. "Captain..."
"Shh," calloused hands found your hips, urging you back against the desk, spreading your legs further apart as he inserted himself between them. "I already told you what to call me."
You shuddered, twitching from his touch, and the corner of his lip quirked. Smouldering blue eyes searing into your skin. "John, I—"
His thumbs slid close to your heat, dipping into the crease and teasing close to the edge of your thong. Reality was a plummeting star, crashing down into your mind without regard. Nerves were consuming you, fingers digging into his biceps in attempt to stop them from shaking.
"You...what?" His voice was practically a lullaby. How something so deep could be so soothing was beyond your comprehension. "Go on, pretty thing..."
"I just..." you shifted your hips, trying to balance fear with desire. "I'm just...I don't want to disappoint you..."
Price assessed you, only for a moment, gracing your thigh with a stern yet gentle smack before trailing upward.
"Enough." It was an order. "I want you out of that beautiful mind."
He brushed his finger across your cunt, grazing over your swollen clit, and you choked, hips snapping toward him.
"Don't think..." the power in his words was intoxicating, a command given with the confidence of knowing you'd obey. He teased your clit again and you whinged, gripping him harder. "...just feel."
Before a coherent thought could enter your head, he pulled your panties to the side with two thick fingers, not giving you a second to brace for it before he used those same fingers and sank them into your tight, aching cunt.
"Oh—fuck-"
You groaned, head tossed back, walls tightening around the delicious stretch as he pried you open with slippery ease. The intensity, the fullness from just his fingers stole your breath, dizzied your mind, and you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the growling breath escaping his lungs, trying to ground yourself as much as you could.
"Christ...tight little cunts just soaked..." he was right, you were dripping. You couldn't ever remember being this wet. In truth, you couldn't ever remember being this turned on, this desperate for touch. "Tell me how that feels."
"G-oh, fuck—" any additional words you had planned on using instantly died on your tongue as Price curled inside of you, pushing deep, every coherent thought fleeing your mind with a moan. Your entire body pulsed for him, like he'd shaken every cell awake and enthralled it under his possession. "John—oh, Gods!"
It wasn't like you'd never been fingered. It'd just never felt like this.
Something about the trained motion of his hand, the skilled curl of his wrist, the attunement to your body was consuming you--the need for more only increasing as he found a perfect rhythm, fucking slow, reaching to your belly while his thumb circled your sensitive clit. Your cunt throbbed, squeezed around him, as if to coax him deeper inside of you.
"Needy little thing," an amused huff at the corner of your consciousness. You forced yourself to look at him—he was smirking. "Tell me how it feels."
Desperation was throbbing at your temples, growling and coiling in your belly—unfathomable, incredible desperation stalling your lungs. Unfamiliar, but entirely absentmindedly as Price stroked your walls, stroked your clit, and you were gasping, you were—
"So fucking good—" you were practically screaming, brain a mangled mess of aimless words. "Cap—John, I—I'm-"
His free hand seized your jaw, forcing you to look up into his eyes, his fingers still keeping their pace, your vision blurring to bliss. "You're?"
You gasped. "I’m-"
"You’re close." Fire flooded your flesh, and you mewled like a nervous, helpless animal. His grip tightened. Intensity and power radiating off him in waves. "S’ that what you want, little slut? Hm? You wanna’ fuckin’ cum for your Captain, don’t you?”
“Yes!” No thought required. “Pleasepleaseplease-“
“Mhm. That’s right, that’s right—“ he was just as gone as you were. Air rattled in your lungs like rocks. Your vision blurring as you held onto him like your life depended on it. “Cum on my fingers, darling, let me feel you.”
A scream shredded your throat, submerged in a storm of euphoria, sight whiter than the gates of heaven themselves. Convulsions wracked you, quaked to your bones, and you heaved, hunting for air while he worked you through the receding tide of your release.
“Good fuckin’ girl.” He growled, the arrogance in his tone palpable. “Look how easy that was, hm?”
Your Captian pulled his fingers from cunt and yanked you off the table by the hold on your jaw—you stumbled into him, wetness seeping down your thighs, brain given less than two seconds to process the slew of events before his slick covered fingers were at your lips and pushing past your teeth.
"The way I see it, soldier—there are two possible explanations here." He shoved his fingers deeper, reaching for the back of your throat. "Either you somehow managed to lie to me..." he pressed against you, his desire evident in the way it was jabbing against your stomach. "Or this tight little cunt has never been properly sated."
Your heart was in your feet, your lips sealed around his fingers as you held his eyes, a shade of blue so deep you'd almost thought you were staring into the depths of the ocean. His pupils were blown wide with lust, it was clear what he was getting at—and judging by the way your cunt clenched in response to his words, it was clear that you felt the same.
He pulled his fingers from your mouth, looking for a response. You gave the only words you could think of. "I didn’t lie…I’ve had sex, Captain...I’ve just never done—that.”
"Well I think I've just proven that it wasn’t due to any fault of your own." His words were backing you into a corner, an explanation that was challenging to draw yet completely impossible to now ignore. "I got you there in seconds."
Your face grew hot. “So..what are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” he assessed you, eyes looking past you, through you. “Your ex didn’t know what he was doing.” he leaned in closer, plush lips curling into a mischievous grin. “All you needed was someone who knew how to handle you.”
"Hm." The arrogance was stifling, setting you ablaze. It only made you want him more. "Cocky bastard."
"Cocky," he repeated with a raised brow. "You have no idea, princess.”
"You know what, Captain," you teased with a smirk of your own, unable to tear your sights off him. His eyes. His lips. "I think you just got lucky."
“Luck.” He chuckled—a deep, growling thing. "I don’t do luck, soldier. I do facts.” Price shifted a hand to his crotch, palming his erection through his pants as he pressed against you. “Fact one, I just gave you your first orgasm.” He was possessed, hungry, borderline rabid. “Fact two, I could do it again on my cock. If you’d like.”
And you, you were his eager, willing prey.
"Shit," you muttered, the words shooting straight to your cunt. You didn’t need any further discussion. You wanted him, and nothing could stop the next words from leaving your lips. "Please...please fuck me..."
Your Captain growled. The sweet desperation of your pleas sending him past the point of salvation. He sucked in a breath. Trapped it there—internally clutching whatever ounces of restraint he had left.
"You sure you want this?" His voice was so fucking low you almost missed it. His fingers moved to his belt, and his lips moved to your ear. "I'm not so sure you can take it."
"I'm built for combat, Captain..." you murmured with a grin, spurred on by the evidence of his throbbing desire, fingers trailing toward his belt to help him along. "I'm sure I'll be fine."
Price huffed against your jawline. Amused.
"You’re built for combat, undoubtedly..." you watched as he pulled free his thick, heavy cock. Your jaw slackened, your mouth watered. "But by the time I'm done with you, darling..." he seethed in relief as he guided his hand back and forth along his length, other one directing you back against the table. "You'll be built for me."
A sharp intake of breath found your lungs and then you were lying flat against the table, cool metal biting your backside and ripping goosebumps to the surface of your skin. You shuddered, seething in discomfort, but two strong hands made quick work to soothe them, coasting up your thighs until they found your hips, and then he stepped forward.
"Christ..." you whimpered as he loomed over you, the warm head of his cock rolling over your clit, teasing you with false thrusts, making sure you were well aware of just how long and fucking thick he was. "John..."
"Quiet." He purred, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. "Just let me break you open."
His heavy, smooth tip pressed against your entrance and then pushed in, head just barely spearing you yet somehow still splitting your cunt with a girth that stole your breath and forced a cry from your throat. With a breathless groan he pulled out, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing.
He smacked your thigh again. “Look at me.” He hissed, teeth sinking into the plush of his bottom lip as you instantly obeyed. “That’s it. Eyes on me.”
There was a mere second of silence before he sank in again, entirely this time—and though you were fucking sopped and pliant and voracious, he tore you wide with a sting.
"Oh—fuck-"
You fought for air, your body trembling, fingers clawing at anything that might steady you. He’d stuffed you full with ease, lungs heaving upon impact. Both big hands tightened around you, and he slid out, driving into you again with a hidden hiss of air, earning a loud, shameless groan from your lips.
"Fucking hell.” A dark, low voice rumbled from his throat. "Tight little whore. So fucking tight—"
"You're—oh, fuck—" words died on your tongue as he pulled out, pushed in again, sucking in air through his teeth, working you wider with each plunge into your pussy. You clenched around him, and he snuffed a moan, snapping his hips. "You're fucking huge."
"Mhm, yeah," it was a shameless admission. He placed a palm on your pelvis, pressing down, feeling himself fucking into you. He leaned back slightly, drawing long, slow strokes, forcing you to quake around every inch of his length. "That's how fucking deep I'm in you."
And deep he fucking was. Every centimeter banishing the ability to do anything other than exist as a stammering sheath for his cock. It wasn't penetration—it was pervasion, it was domination. Sex had never felt this intense. Sex had never felt this fucking tranquilizing.
"Christ—Cap-John—fuck—"
Price slid out and rocked in, driving to your stomach with a stab of blissful pain. Eyes snapping shut, you gripped his arms, seething when he thrusted again, and again. Each stroke shoved a cry from your chest, tightened your walls, and this only seemed to entice him, his cock splitting you apart. You scratched at his shoulders, fighting to find yourself in the bewildering delirium.
"There we go." His voice was distant in the sea of pleasure. "Look at you. Brainless on my fucking cock."
Your response was a moan, loud and shameless, gripping onto his arms and matching his rhythm, forcing your hips to his, a plea—faster, harder, more, more. Your Captain hissed in satisfaction, and his hand snaked between you, rolling and teasing your clit.
Your vision blurred for the hundredth time. "Oh, fuck—"
Delirium ascended into ecstasy, pleasure amplified by the stretch of his dick. He fucked into you, his skin smacking yours, his breath heaving in feral huffs.
"Fucking perfect pussy," he growled through his teeth, shifting your legs together and directing both ankles over his left shoulder, his thrusts slowly slightly as you gasped and whimpered, clawing at his hips, the new position causing the head of his cock to kiss your cervix with each thrust. "Mm, fuck...this is what you needed, darling. You needed a proper fucking."
"Fuck," you replied, brain numbed by bliss. Words didn't even make sense. "Deep. So fuck—deep—"
"Fuck—take it, take it little slut." His thumb was back on your clit, swirling it in tight, fast circles, his cock fucking deep into you. "I warned you."
"John—" You needed to scream, fingers clawing at anything they could find. If you weren't broken before, you’d certainly be broken when he was done with you. "Fuck—"
Bliss burned to burst, stars swarmed your sight entirely, and you knew it, knew it was happening, knew that you were about to break. The feeling was so intense you didn't know what to do with yourself, you weren't sure if you could even get the words out to warn him.
Your eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck—I'm—I-I'm..."
"Yeah, that's right." He hissed, teeth barred, hips snapping. He already knew. "Cum for me. Cum on my fucking cock."
Lightning euphoria ripped up your spine with a shameless shriek, your climax shattering you. Your cunt milked his dick, your thighs spasming, your back reached for the ceiling, pleasure possessing your nerves.
"There we go—good little fucking slut—squeezing me so good," it seemed an eternity--he was still fucking you through it, breaking you deep, until he edged his climax. "Fucking hell."
He sputtered, pummelling your cunt with sloppy final thrusts, pouring his cum inside you, grip gouging your flesh until he descended, meeting you in the receding tides of your peaks. Both of you twitched with aftershocks, both of you seeking air.
Once he stalled, you sucked in a long inhale and peeled your eyes open, taking in your surroundings for the first time in however many minutes it had been. The room was still as dim and dreary as it was prior to your mind shattering, the only thing now different was your Captain—who remained looming over the table, cock still buried inside you, precipitation lining his forehead and chest still heaving for breath, piercing gaze perceiving you like a sated predator.
With a glance at your lips, he finally moved, pulling back and out of you, tucking himself away. It was then that reality struck you hard—you'd just fucked your Captain. And he'd just shattered the preconceived notions of everything you thought you knew.
You were not broken. You were perfectly fucking fine.
Price cleared his throat as you pulled yourself off of the table and stood. "Y'alright?"
You nodded, grabbing your pants off the floor. "Yes, Sir."
Shame engulfed you, for reasons you couldn't explain. Embarrassment threatened to swallow you whole.
"Hey." Sensing this, Price stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your arm. "Don't do that."
Your eyes fixed on his. Outlining his perfectly tamed facial hair, his striking blue eyes. "Do what?"
"Avoid me." He simply stated, his voice hardly above a whisper. "All this was, was me proving to you that you're not broken. You're the furthest from. It doesn't have to be any more than that."
"I know…just feel stupid, I guess.” Your face was in flames. You swallowed your pride until it was digested. There was no room for that here, not after what’d just happened. “I, uh, I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry.”
Price regarded you with eyes warm as the summer sun, shaking his head ever-so-slightly. “I wanted you to open up to me. Willingly. I never pry.”
You cracked a smile, slipping on your shoes. “You got your wish, then. Emotionally and physically.”
“Aye.” Your captain chuckled, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and plopping himself into a seat, sliding a glass across the table toward you. “My turn, yeah?”
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strobe-fluid · 11 months
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help a latino nonbinary sibling recovering from a s/attempt with rent and their credit 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🇻🇪
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Hi everyone I'm sorry for doing this again I've been spending all this time healing and it's been a bumpy ride, if you don't know my story feel free to message me, the short version of the story is that i suffered from a benzo withdrawal at the beginning of this year and i try to attempt towards my own life, I'm still going to therapy and we've been trying new meds because I've been very depressed, my doctor and therapist still tell me I am not able to work even tho I'm looking for one because i need financial stability
i need help paying next month rent that's due for next week and also paying my credit that i use to pay for my therapy appointments, house bills and my own groceries because my sister gets very mad when i ask her for food so if i want to eat i need to buy my own food
please if you want any proofs or have any questions talk to me, i got lots of friends who can back up what's happening to me
Any help is appreciated thank you 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈❤️
p*yp*l
k*fi
0$/650$
(please don't tag has don*ti*ns! also i can't receive personal payments because I'm from Latin America and that option is not available for us)
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hollyoongs · 2 months
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NUMBER ONE ✦ S.JY
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pairing scuderia ferrari racer!jake x scuderia ferrari race engineer!fem reader
summary The Australian Grand Prix was something Jake has been looking forward to winning since he entered the F1 races, so when he wins, he also wins a big victory celebration on your part.
genre smut
warnings thigh humping, orgasm denial, fingering, 69, squirting (two times), use of sexual toy (vibrator), dirty talk, pet names (good girl, baby and princesse), spanking, sub!reader, dom!jake (he's so pussy drunk)
a/n this is my first gift from me to my lovely friend @cmoundiamante since it's her birthday and because I couldn't decide which of my gifts to post, but both of this deserve to be out here. Also, this happens in an alternative universe where en- and bynextdoor are actually F1 racers, only the teams that actually play in F1 remains the same and I've the permission of my friend to actually use her format since it's her present, in case you didn't know.
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As you walked into the bustling Australian Grand Prix track alongside the rest of the Scuderia Ferrari team, the air was charged with excitement. The fans' euphoric screams reverberated throughout the circuit, a cacophony of support for their favorite teams. It was a special Grand Prix, especially for one person in particular, Jake Shim.
For Jake, racing in Australia held significance beyond the adrenaline of competition. It was a melding of his upbringing, shaped both by the country that practically raised him and the Korean customs instilled by his parents. As he donned his racing suit, the blend of cultures felt palpable, driving him to perform at his best on the track.
Amidst the buzz of the paddock, you caught sight of Jake preparing himself. As you made your way over to him, you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride in his determination and skill. "Hey, Jake," you greeted him with a warm smile, "ready to show them what you're made of out there?"
Jake returned your smile, his eyes alight with determination. "You know it," he replied, his voice tinged with excitement. "This one's special, not just for me but for us."
"Don't lie to yourself."
"It's actually true. I'm in my hometown with the girl of my dreams on the team that I've worked so hard to get into."
"Ah, so I'm just the girl of your dreams now?" You teased, raising an eyebrow playfully as you adjusted the lanyard around your neck, indicating your role as a Scuderia Ferrari steward.
Jake chuckled, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "Of course not; you're more than that. You're the reality of my dreams," he said, his tone sincere as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your cheek.
"Smooth talker," you remarked with a grin, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "But seriously, Jake, I have a good feeling about today. You've been putting in the work, and it's going to pay off."
His smile widened, mirroring the confidence that radiated from him. "Thanks, babe. I'm going to give it my all out there and take that trophy home." He said, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering determination.
"I'm actually looking forward to it because…" You went near him, your lips at the same height as his "I don't want to waste your victory present."
"What do you mean?"
"Want a clue? You know what they say about a nice outfit…" You leaned in, kissing him and making him sigh when you went back again to his ear. "It's what's underneath that counts."
"Jake! It's time to be in position for the practice race." You backed away with an angelic smile for the boss after he called out your boyfriend. He was pushing your boyfriend backwards to his car as Jake was eyeing you up and down with his characteristic flirty smile.
The engines roared to life, filling the air with a symphony of power as the cars lined up on the grid, ready to tear through the track at breakneck speeds. Jake sat in his Ferrari, his focus razor-sharp as he visualized every turn and every maneuver he would need to make to clinch victory on his home turf. Behind him was his friend, Mingi, who was also adjusting to the car and communicating with the staff.
Beside him, the Red Bull of Sunghoon sat poised, his friend exuding confidence as he eyed the competition ahead. Mercedes' Nishimura Ri-Ki, ever the formidable opponent, sat further down the grid, his steely gaze betraying his determination to reclaim the top spot.
McLaren's Kim Sunoo exchanged a grin with Yang Jungwon, his teammate, as they prepared to make their mark on the race. Aston Martin Aramco, with Lee Heeseung and Park Jongseong at the helm, were determined to prove their worth on the track.
Alpine's Han Dongmin, the youngest of all the F1 drivers, shared a nod with his teammate Kim Donghyun, their eyes reflecting the fire of competition burning within. Williams, RB, Kick Sauber, and Haas completed the grid, each team eager to showcase their talents amidst the throngs of fans cheering from the stands.
As the lights above the track blinked to life, signaling the imminent start of the race and the end of the one and only, the tension reached a fever pitch. The air crackled with anticipation, the fans holding their breaths in anticipation of the spectacle about to unfold.
And then, with a deafening roar, the race began.
The cars surged forward, a blur of colors streaking past as they jostled for position in the opening corners. Jake navigated the chaos with precision, his Ferrari darting through the pack as he chased the elusive lead.
Beside him, Sunghoon fought tooth and nail to maintain his position, his Red Bull dancing on the edge of control as he pushed it to its limits. Ri-Ki, ever the strategist, bided his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
As the race unfolded, the crackle of the radio cut through the roar of the engines, a lifeline connecting Jake and his team to navigate the twists and turns of the track. Amidst the chaos, your voice broke through, a beacon of calm in the storm.
"Jake, you're doing great out there," you said, your tone laced with encouragement. "Just keep your focus, and remember to breathe. You've got this."
Jake's grin was audible through the radio as he replied, his voice brimming with determination. "Thanks, darling. I'm feeling good; I just need to stay sharp."
"Just remember to control the curves in Sector 3 and let me know if there's a problem."
"Yes, ma'am." You let out a small smile with the nickname and started getting nervous for him.
As the laps ticked by, the race intensified, with each corner a battle for supremacy as the drivers pushed themselves and their machines to the absolute limit. Jake only went to the box two times, which made him pass from 4th to 6th, but he was so willing to take the win home, which made him give his all. Jake, fueled by the cheers of the crowd and the support of his team, refused to relent, inching ever closer to the front of the pack.
And then, as the checkered flag loomed on the horizon, Jake made his move. With a daring maneuver, he seized the lead, his Ferrari passing all the cars in front of him, and taking the opportunity of Ri-Ki's and Heeseung's hitting the box, Jake just went for it, his mind going blank for a second.
"And what a story this is for Jake Shim. What a performance! What a comeback! A Ferrari one-two headed by Jake Shim, who wins the Australian Grand Prix"
"Wait… did I hear that correctly?"
"Fuck yeah, you did P1!" You just won!" He clapped fast a few times, and before he sreamed of joy, he just couldn't believe it. He gave the last victory lap to the fans and went straight to his team.
As he climbed from his car, he took off his helmet with a triumphant smile on his face, the staff jumping to him in excitement. He caught sight of you in the crow, your eyes shining with pride. Crossing the paddock, he swept you up in his arms, the taste of victory sweet on his lips as he held you close and tasted your lips in a fond kiss, right before he ran to the podium and received not only the champagne that the three top drivers of the GP opened in a celebratory manner, but when Jake held high and proud the trophy, hearing all the cheers.
As all the events ended and all the staff got together in a happy mood, the head of the team made his way to the center of a circle, a joyful aura shining in him.
"I want to say congratulations to Jake and Mingi; today's performance was amazing, and because of that, we're going to have a celebration!" The boss announced it, his voice booming over the cheers of the team. "And since Ferrari came out on top, we will have a celebration later! So have a good rest, and we will let everyone know where it is after we prepare it. Great job everyone!"
After the exhilarating celebrations and festivities, the adrenaline began to wane, leaving in its wake a pleasant exhaustion that seemed to seep into every muscle and bone. Jake glanced at you, a contented smile gracing his lips as he realized just how much he was looking forward to some quiet time alone with you.
"Hey," he murmured, his voice low and husky as he leaned in close. "Are you ready to head back to my place? I could use some rest and relaxation after today's excitement."
You nodded, a playful glint in your eyes as you replied, "Lead the way, champion. I'll be right behind you."
As you made your way through the bustling paddock and out into the cool evening air, the adrenaline of the race slowly began to ebb away, replaced by a quiet anticipation of the intimate moments to come.
Once you arrived at Jake's house, the soft glow of the lights illuminated the room, casting a warm, inviting aura over everything.
"I'm going to the bathroom." You said, Jake saw your way, and his side smile popped out. You rolled your eyes. "No."
"Come on, you said—"
"I know what I said. Come to the bedroom in twenty." After you said that, you turned around and went to the shared bedroom, feeling his gaze on your ass as you walked out, swaying your hips slightly.
You showered quickly enough to get yourself ready, looking in the mirror every time you did something. You saw yourself, and you were proud of what you saw: the burgundy lingerie covering your body, a 4-piece lingerie set that featured a bra, a g-string pant, and a thigh garter, the floral lace soft underwire bra with garter leg straps highlighting your legs line, the light makeup in contrast to the color of your lips that matched your whole outfit, and of course, the color of your boyfriend team. You were fixing your hair when you heard the door of the bedroom open up. You looked at the time on your phone, and he actually waited twenty minutes.
“Babe? What are you doing?” You opened the door to reveal yourself to Jake, his eyes widening at the image.
Jake stood in the doorway, his breath catching in his throat as he took in the sight before him. The soft glow of the bedroom lights played over your figure, accentuating every curve and contour of your body clad in the enticing burgundy lingerie set. His eyes lingered on the delicate lace and the way it hugged your curves in all the right places, igniting a fire of desire within him.
"You… you look incredible," he breathed, his voice husky with desire as he stepped closer, unable to tear his gaze away from you.
A blush crept onto your cheeks at his words, a smile tugging at your lips as you met his intense gaze. "I'm glad you think so," you murmured, feeling a surge of confidence at his reaction.
Jake closed the distance between you in a few swift strides, his hands reaching out to trace the lines of the lace along your skin. His touch sent shivers racing down your spine, igniting a fire of longing deep within you.
"You know," he murmured, his voice low and seductive as he leaned in close, his breath ghosting over your ear. "Seeing you like this… It's almost too much to handle."
A soft gasp escaped your lips as his lips trailed along your jawline, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His hands moved with purpose, caressing every inch of your exposed skin, leaving you trembling with anticipation.
"You're the winner today," you whispered, your voice barely above a breathless sigh as you melted into his touch, your hands going straight to the buttons of his jeans, opening them up as you moved your hands to remove his shirt. The tattoo on his ribs is on full display, and his necklaces are shining in his neck. "I will do anything that you want. Congratulations, winner."
With a hunger that matched your own, Jake captured your lips in a searing kiss, his desire evident in every movement and every touch. In that moment, all thoughts of the race and of the celebrations faded into the background, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable passion that burned between you.
The kisses followed their level; all the passion could be seen in those kisses, as Jake would not take his hand off your neck and the other one off your figure while making his hair a mess that he could care very little about. They went a little further into bed. You sat Jake down with a gentle push, and you opened his legs with your hands as you kneeled down to him, taking off his pants once and for all.
The moment you stood up, Jake started playing with a thread from your thong, stopping almost immediately when you positioned your entry on his right thigh and stuck your lips to his sensitive neck.
His breath hitched as your lips trailed along his neck, sending shivers down his spine. His fingers tightened around the delicate lace of your lingerie, pulling you closer to him as he let out a low groan of pleasure. Every touch and every whisper of your lips against his skin fueled the fire burning between you, igniting a passion that threatened to consume you both.
As you continued to explore each other's bodies with feverish intensity, time seemed to slow to a standstill, the world outside disappearing as you lost yourselves in each other. With every kiss and every caress, the connection between you deepened, transcending the physical realm and delving into something far more profound.
In that moment, there were no barriers, no inhibitions, just the raw, unbridled passion that bound you together. And as you surrendered yourself completely to the intoxicating rhythm of desire, you knew that this was just the beginning of a night filled with endless pleasure and exploration.
You could feel how your pants started getting wet with Jake's caresses, especially on occasional taps on your breasts and buttocks. You started with a gentle movement that let out a sigh from your side. You looked for some sign of dissatisfaction in your partner, meeting Jake biting your lower lip while watching your action. Jake dropped the palms of his hands at every slap of your ass, making you pant in combination with a little surprise.
"You're too much for me, baby." Jake threw his head back and raised his hands to your hips, the top of his thigh being soaked by your natural lubricant. You hid your face in the hole connecting his neck and shoulder, his ear receiving your ecstatic jades, making known the wave of pleasure you were feeling. He stopped your movements for a second and handled your hips so that you jumped on his thigh. The vibration they caused went straight to your clitoris, making you moan a little higher than usual.
Jake took his hands out of his place and removed your bra. Delighted with the movements of your breasts with the leaps he made, he took his hands behind him and smiled with a little malice. Jake knew when you were at the edge, repeating his name amidst loud moans and whining so he could fuck you like they both knew they liked.
"You're close, princess?" You gave a loud moan in response, and he took your jaw and made you look at him. "Tell me, baby. Are you going to cum for me?"
"Yeah, I'm gonna cum so bad." You started speeding up, feeling the knot of pleasure about to explode until they were stopped by Jake, who held you as he took out his legs, causing you to shake by the sudden stop.
He once again attracted your lips, holding you as close as he could to calm yourself down and shut the whines from your mouth. His hands snaked to your back thighs and made you jump, your legs wrapping his hips and getting your dripping entrance in touch with his clothed erect member, making him moan in your lips.
Jake left you in bed for a moment, opening the closet in pairs until he found his favorite object. You couldn't hold your breath knowing what was in his hand. He stood in front of the bed with it in his hand, still with that smile you loved, but right now, it made you tremble.
"You told me I could do what I wanted, right?" You nodded without taking your eyes off him as he scanned your body again with desire; you could feel it for miles. "You know how I like to see you."
Without waiting any longer, you sat in bed, making a space for him. Jake took off his annoying boxers, and he was next to you in no time. With a little sign, you put your covered entrance on his face, his lips kissing your inner thighs, which made you sigh with pleasure, still delighted with what you did earlier. You licked your lips when you saw his dick, completely erect and red, desperate to be cared for. Jake's hands completely lowered your last complicated garment, opening your vagina with his two fingers and blowing a little to get a moan out of you that reached his dick, getting him to move a little.
You spat on his dick, feeling his legs shake because of the sudden action. Your right hand caught him, creating a delicious swing that made Jake moan. You could feel your fluids falling into Jake's face because of Jake's stimulation of your clitoris; something he loved too much was seeing your entrance palpitating in anticipation.
"Baby, do you want my fingers first or my tongue?" You liked that thought of it, which makes you close around nothing, and now it was Jake turning to lick his lips. He slapped your ass one more time, making your entrance touch his mouth, the sensation making you stay there. "My good girl wants to be eat out? Making you more wet than you are so my dick can enter your pretty and tight cunt?"
"Fuck yeah, Jake, please eat me out." Your voice sounded so pretty to him that he just forced you down to stay there with his arms in your legs.
"Good fucking girl," for a second, you forgot to continue your movements, the pleasure being too much with his tongue creating circles in your clitoral area and traveling all across your entrance. You starred at your movements on his dick at a faster pace, getting in response to him squeezeing your ass in delight.
Now, your mouth was on his tip, kitten licks being delivered and causing him to twitch. You kept that for more minutes until you felt his two fingers ipening your entrance, your back arching up.
"No matter how many times I fuck you numb, you're still fucking thight. My girl is so thight for me as usual. Fuck, baby." He stopped his words and movements when you entered his dick into your mouth. His deep grunts and moans motivated you, loosing your throat so all of his length went inside. You hollowed your cheeks and controlled your gag reflexes.
"Baby, don't stop; you're such a good girl for me." The pace of his fingers continued faster, distracting you a few times, his cock blocking your loud moans and only the sounds of your wet entrace and his dick having the blowjobs of his life surrounding the room. You felt his dick getting swollen in your mouth, and his grunts just got louder.
You sucked everything out of him until you felt his fingers disappearing from your entrance and the vibration of the vibrator he pulled out on your clitoris. Your mouth was opened for that, and Jake's first drop of sperm stopped right at the back of your throat. Jake's hand took his dick, moving it fast, and let all its essence fall on your face and part of your clavicles, some of it landing inside your mouth. His other hand had stuck the vibrator on you, your body shaking endlessly and your moaning finally being free.
Jake settled in where his head was before; now there was his dick, his fingers going back in, and you felt like any minute you were going to collapse.
"I know you're going to cum, but you have to wait one minute. Can my good girl do that?"
"Yes, Jake. I can do that." Jake turned up the speed of it, and you just shoved your head into the pillow, hearing him count so slowly that you were staring to get a tear in your eye. One minute passed, and he smiled proudly.
"Cum all over my dick, baby," as you did it. His fingers made more obvious the amount of squirt coming down to his dick and legs, wetting your lower bodies for another minute, and he did not stop his fingers until you had nothing. You got on all fours after a few seconds of watching him move his dick up and down again., him puching you like you were before. Your ass up and your face planted on the mattress. "Stay like that."
"For fuck sakes, Jake. Let me—oh shit." His dick opened up your entrance suddenly after he put the condom in, your moans matching as you felt your mind going cloudy. Jake threw his head back as he slowly pushed himself to touch your sweet spot. You screamed in pleasure when he did it, being silenced by the pillow you were biting.
He couldn't wait, and his movements were fast, your ass moving like waves every time he thrust himself into you. Jake got as much noise as you, your thightness making him touch the sky, and your moans getting messier and louder once again.
"Jake, I'm cumming again."
"You're not. Not until I come first so that you can cum in my mouth." He felt how you clenched, and he slapped your ass. He took your hair in a messy ponytail and arched your back. "You want to cum? Then wait." The sound of your bodies colliding got faster, and he captured your lips when he felt like cumming completely. Once he left you, he grabbed the vibrator, reaching it to the tenth level. You held his arms, finally letting out the screams you were holding while that toy was inside you and your fingers in your clitoral area.
He laid down to face your cunt again. "Good job, baby. Make a mess all over me." His tongue got out of his mouth, and the view was enough to make you squirt bigger than the last one. Jake was so pussy drunk that he just went up a few seconds to have it all.
The heavy breathing of both of you was loud. Jake gently massaged your legs as you fell on the bed again, right next to him as he kissed you gently. The tiredness was invading both of you, but even with how tired you were, you smiled at him.
"How was your celebration?"
"Better than the trophy, for sure. You were perfect; you're perfect. I don't deserve you."
"Congratulations, my number one."
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plaguedocboi · 1 year
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We all love the beach, right? I sure do. Where the sea meets the land is a magical place. It is the overlap of two very different worlds; our sunny, sandy, beautiful home and the alien waves that beckon you into the inhospitable wilderness of the ocean. When crossing that foam-fringed boundary, one must remember that you are no longer in your world. You are entering the sea, and the sea is vast and dark and dangerous. It is more untamed than the wildest jungle and full of creatures that can kill you in a hundred different gruesome ways. Every wave whispers to you that you do not belong here, you may only visit for a brief time if you want to leave with your life. Hold tight to the warm sunlit sand that fringes the barrier of this place, or you may never see it again. Welcome to the beach. Enter at your own risk.
1. Tamarama beach, Australia
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This is know as both the smallest and the most dangerous beach in NSW. There is a permanent rip current that runs along the rocky northern shore, but at any given time there could be more hidden in the surf. Large waves break just a little ways offshore, posing a hazard to swimmers but an attraction for surfers. Although there are rarely deaths here, lifeguards have to rescue multiple people a day. Interestingly, this beach is only around sometimes! Occasionally all the sand will wash away and all that’s left is a rocky outcrop. There’s no way to be certain when the beach will come back or how big it will be or what it might look like. I guess it never gets boring to visit.
2. Isle of Ré, France
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This island is not the only place you can go to see square waves, but it is one of the places most famous for this strange phenomenon. This is called a cross sea, and occurs when two opposing wave patterns intersect. Although this is certainly a tourist attraction, it is best to observe from a distance, as cross seas can be very dangerous to both ships and swimmers. Cross seas can cause powerful rip currents and walls of water up to 10 feet high, rolling ships and dragging people underwater. (As a side note, my mother thought I had made up cross seas as a freaky supernatural event in my book. Unfortunately, I did not.)
3. Dumas Beach, India
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This is supposedly one of the most haunted places in India. Although this beach is full of tourists during the daytime, no one remains after dark, for fear that they will become the next ghost to wander the sand. Apparently, this beach was once used as a burial ground, and said to be black due to the human ashes mixed in. At night, people report hearing voices and seeing apparitions, and even dogs behave strangely once the sun goes down. There have also been multiple unexplained disappearances and at least one recorded death. Whether you believe in ghosts or not, there definitely seems to be something eerie happening on this beach.
4. Morecambe Bay, UK
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This is an interesting one, as it’s not technically the water that’s dangerous. The ground is. This estuary features extreme tides, with the water level dropping and rising up to 32 feet twice a day. This exposes an expanse of mud flats and channels which are composed of loose, wet material that can absolutely suck you in and trap you. If this happens when the tide is coming in, it can quickly turn deadly. This has happened many times going back through history, including one incident in 2004 where 23 people died. Yes, all at the same time. No, I don’t want to delve into that incident too deeply in this list as it’s extremely horrifying and tragic. Feel free to research it yourself.
5. Monastery Beach, Oregon
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This has earned its nickname “mortuary beach” by being extremely dangerous. Over 30 people have died here, including people who weren’t even in the water. In 2015, a woman walking along the beach was dragged in by a wave and drowned. The beach has multiple factors that make it so deadly, including a steep drop off, unpredictable waves, and strong undertows. This beach isn’t even safe to walk on. I um. Don’t like that.
6. Hanakapiai Beach, Hawaii
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Despite its beauty, this Hawaiian beach is not recommended for swimming except for expert surfers. During the summer, this beach is a popular place for hiking, sunbathing and sightseeing, but during the winter the sand is washed away and the waves crash against the cliffs directly. Even in the relatively safe summer months, this beach has no barrier reef to break up the strong waves and powerful currents, which leads to a dangerous situation where swimmers can quickly be swept out into the open ocean and drown. At least 30 people have died here, and 15 of the bodies have never been recovered.
7. Lake Michigan. Just, all of it.
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Despite all the Great Lakes being somewhat terrifying, Michigan takes the title of the most dangerous lake in the country. Yearly, Lake Michigan has more drownings than all four other Great Lakes combined. The reason that Michigan is especially hazardous is that, well, it’s kind of weirdly shaped. Thanks to its 300+ miles of uninterrupted parallel shorelines running north-south, it forms huge waves and strong riptides and long shore currents. It is also a question of numbers; Lake Michigan has more public beaches and large population centers than the other Great Lakes. All in all, a recipe for disaster.
8. Playa Zipolite, Mexico
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This is also called the “beach of the dead”, so it’s inclusion on this list seems pretty self-explanatory. These waters have strong undercurrents that rotate in a circular pattern, either pushing you into shore or pulling you out to sea. There is a pervasive rumor that 50 people drown at this beach a year, although this is… somewhat exaggerated. In fact, very few people drown at this beach these days, as it has actually gotten less dangerous over the years. There used to be a steep drop-off that would catch people by surprise, but due to several severe storms in the early 2000s, the beach has eroded back and now gently slopes down instead. Although very few people die at this beach nowadays, multiple rescues are performed every day due to the dangerous currents.
9. Cyclops, Australia
This is a particular type of wave that forms off the coast of Esperance, Australia, as the sea floor rapidly goes from deep, open water to a very very shallow reef. It is… unsettling. The longer I look at it, the weirder it gets. It’s like an ai generated image. I couldn’t even pick one picture of it so I made you a collage.
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It is considered one of the most dangerous surf spots in the world, and can only be accessed by boat. To quote pacific surf dot com, “the reason the wave is dangerous is because it does not act like any other wave in the world. It engulfs itself due to the massive change in the ocean floor when the wave rolls up.”
10. Nazare, Portugal
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This area of Portugal is home to some of the biggest waves in the world. Just offshore is an underwater canyon, plunging down to 16,000 ft deep. This allows large, fast deep-water waves to move into shore unimpeded, and when they hit the shallows close to shore all the water gets suddenly pushed up, resulting in waves up to 80 ft tall. I think the picture speaks for itself in this case. Probably best to not get in the water if you see that shit.
That was fun, wasn’t it? Before I go, let me end this on a different note than the rest of my lists; some actual advice for if you should you ever decide to visit these beaches (or any beach, really). Rip currents are incredibly strong (believe me, I know) but very narrow currents that run perpendicular to shore. To get out of a rip current, swim parallel to shore. Trying to fight the current will just tire you out and eventually leave you exhausted and way the fuck out in the ocean, which is typically when you die. Swimming parallel to shore will get you out of the current, and once you’re free you can swim back in at your leisure. And, just in general, never fight the sea. The sea will win.
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soaps-mohawk · 4 months
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 8: The Thing About Ghost
Summary: You should have expected something bad would happen. You just didn't expect this. Perhaps something good could come of it after all.
Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, slight Gaz x Soap
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, angst, panic, PTSD, nightmares, violence, medical stuff
A/N: I started this chapter this morning. It just came spilling forth and thus you're getting a bonus update this week. I'm honestly so glad to have this one done. Now I can finally say something more than "you'll see" when you ask about Ghost.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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You reach a hand out from under the mountain of blankets, fumbling blindly across your nightstand until you reach your vibrating phone. You pull it under the blankets, blinking blearily at the name on the screen. 
Kyle. 
“Hello?” You mumble sleepily, your eyes already drooping again. 
“Oh, so you can hear your phone vibrating but not me knocking at your door for fifteen minutes?” 
You let out a quiet groan, burrowing back under the covers. “Comfy.” 
“I’m sure you are, but it’s breakfast time, love.” 
You let out a quiet groan, still not moving. “Not hungry.” 
“You need to eat, love. You’ll be grumpy all morning if you don’t.” 
He’s right. If you skip breakfast, you’ll get snippy and hangry. Yet, the comfort of your bed is calling, threatening to lull you back to sleep again. 
“Don’t go falling asleep on me again.”
You startle back awake, groaning. “I wasn’t.” 
“Come on, love. I don’t want to have to get Soap to kick in your door.” 
You let out a loud, dramatic groan before grumbling acquiescence. You slide out from under your covers until you’re sitting on the floor, rubbing your eyes. You don’t bother hanging up as you set your phone on the nightstand before crawling over to the door, just close enough that you can reach up and unlock it. 
You sit back on the floor, hair mussed and still in your pajamas. The door slowly swings open, Gaz leaning against the doorframe. He smiles softly down at you as you yawn, blinking up at him sleepily. 
“That’s cute, but if we don’t get to breakfast, Price might send the cavalry searching.” He says. 
You grumble, pushing yourself up to stand before you grab a sweatshirt and shoes, running your fingers through your hair to make it at least semi-presentable. 
You lean against Gaz as you walk to the mess, resting your head against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him. It’s quieter in the mess than normal, Gaz leading you through the line to get food, making your tray for you before you shuffle over to the table where the others are. You sit down next to Price, letting out a yawn as you stare sleepily down at your tray. 
“Was starting tae get worried about ye.” Soap grins at you. 
“Yeah, heard her phone vibrating but not me knocking for fifteen minutes.” Gaz says, taking the seat next to you. 
“I was comfy.” You shrug, picking up your fork. 
“Guess I don’t have to bother asking how you slept.” Price says, grinning fondly down at you. 
“Like a rock.” You say, before taking a bite of sausage. 
“Good.” He says, almost beaming with pride that your little shopping spree yesterday worked, and that the added comfort in your room helped. 
Your face warms under his gaze, practically able to feel him preening with pride. It makes something twist in your stomach, knowing that you made him feel that way. 
The moment is broken as Ghost sighs, standing from the table to dump his tray and leave the mess. 
Soap shakes his head as you watch him go, a frown pulling at your brows. “Don’ mind him. He could do with some soft blankets and more pillows of his own.” 
The image of Ghost curled up with fluffy blankets and a stuffed strawberry of his own has you laughing loudly, not even bothered by the looks you get from the tables around you. 
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You lounge against Gaz’s chest, his arm wrapped around your chest. Your back vibrates every so often as he chuckles at something that happens on the TV. You’re focused on your book, content with a lazy Sunday afternoon. 
“Don’ you two look cozy,” Soap says entering the rec room. “Don’ mind me.” He kneels on the couch next to your feet before flattening himself out between your legs until his head lands in your lap. 
Your cheeks warm as he sighs out a breath, making himself comfortable. You set your book aside, electing to run your fingers through his mohawk. You wonder if you can put him to sleep that way like you almost achieved with Gaz. He lets out a content hum as your nails scratch at his scalp, running your fingers over the short cropped sides of his head. 
You let yourself relax further against Gaz, absentmindedly massaging Soap’s scalp. Your gaze is on the TV but you’re not really watching, too caught up in the bliss of the moment to really care. 
The moment is ruined as Soap’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He lets out a groan, shuffling around to fish it out, lifting his head to stare at the screen. 
“Have to take this.” He murmurs, pushing himself up off of your lap.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips before leaning over your shoulder, kissing Gaz. Your eyes widen as he leaves the room, your heart starting to race. Of course they kiss each other. It’s probably the most natural thing in the world to them. You’ve just never seen it. 
Much less be stuck in the middle of it. 
The images begin to flood your mind, your face getting warmer and warmer. The mental imagine of being sandwiched between them while they kiss over your shoulder, hands everywhere, skin against skin. 
“Enjoyed that, did you?” Gaz’s voice is husky in your ear, his lips brushing the delicate skin. 
Of course he can smell the hike of sweetness in your scent. His hand drops from where it had been wrapped across your chest, his hand trailing down until it rests against your stomach. His lips press against the sensitive skin beneath your ear, tongue darting out to taste. 
“Soon.” He murmurs, before leaning back, resting against the couch once more. 
Your face is burning hot, heart thumping in your chest. A shiver runs down your spine at the idea, your body relaxing further back against Gaz’s, your stomach fluttering as the warmth of his hand seeps through your shirt. 
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You’re ready when he knocks, standing in front of your door again. You open it before he’s finished knocking, his hand falling back to his side. He stares at you for a breath before he turns on his heel, making his way from the barracks. 
You scramble after him as usual, following him into the gym and into the private room. You follow his lead of removing your shoes and jacket, falling into what’s become a routine for the two of you. 
“We’ll work on combos again.” He says, wrapping your hands for you, before his own. 
You go back through what you had done last time, all the combos you’d learned. Well, he told you. You’ve forgotten most of them after the exhaustion and a couple days off. You can tell he’s agitated already as he walks you through the combos, correcting your punches and stance. 
“Move your feet when you punch.” He says, kicking your back leg out from under you, dropping you onto your knee. “Otherwise you’ll hurt yourself.” 
“You’re going to hurt me doing shit like that.” You murmur, fixing your stance again. 
He grabs punch mitts, moving to stand in front of you. He calls out numbers, working through combos and punches. You miss a lot, still trying to memorize which punch belongs to which number and which order to swing your fists in. Part of you wants to drive your fist straight up the middle and into his face. 
A sudden hit to your shoulder sends you sprawling to the mat. You lay there for a second before looking up at him in shock.
“What was that?” You say, getting back to your feet. 
“Dodge or block, just like I taught you.” He says, swinging at you again with the mitt, forcing you back a step. “Your opponent won’t be standing still. You have to know how to throw punches and avoid the ones coming at you.” 
You huff out a breath, trying to stay aware and throw the right punch. You don’t manage to block or dodge every one, your shoulders getting sore as he hits you. He’s not pulling his punches by much, and you can imagine the bruises you’ll sport later. You’re getting tired fast, the combination of the physical effort and the brain power growing to be too much at this intensity so soon. 
A solid hit to the center of your chest as you sprawling out on the mat on your back, the air leaving your lungs with a horrible wheezing sound. For a moment you think he might have actually injured you, fear in your eyes as he looms over you. 
“Get up.” He says, shoulders squared like he’s the one in a fight. 
“Give me a second.” You say, still trying to catch your breath. “I need a break.” 
“There are no breaks in a fight.” He says. 
“Yeah, well, I’m starting to think maybe I should just give up and die if I ever get in a fight.” You snap. 
Something flashes through his gaze, the mitts hitting the floor with a thud. He grabs the front of your tank top, lifting you to your feet. He holds you in front of him, leaning down until you’re eye to eye. 
“You think it’s that easy to die? When the time comes you can just lay down and let it happen?” He growls, emotions flickering like flames in his eyes. 
“If this is what it’s going to take to live, then yeah.” You say, not backing down despite the prickling feeling at the back of your neck. 
“You have no idea what it’s like, when death is looming over you. The fear, the regret, the overwhelming push to fight to survive.” He’s close enough that if he wasn’t wearing a mask, you could have felt his breath on your face. 
“I don’t know because I’m not like you. I’m not a fighter, I’m not trained like you. When I asked you to teach me to defend myself, this is not what I meant.” You say, shoving against his chest. 
It takes him by surprise enough that he stumbles back a step. He catches himself easily, hands closing into fists at his sides. He’s ready to fight, you can see it. You’ve unlocked the alpha, angered the beast within him. 
His scent bowls over you, sending you scrambling back out of instinct. The prickling at the back of your neck intensifies and you try to clear your head, preparing you for this fight. You don’t stand a chance, you know that. Going off instinct alone, he could overpower you easily. 
Despite everything in your brain telling you to run away, you do the opposite, racing towards him. He catches you before you can hit him, your feet leaving the ground as he slams you into the mat. You kick and claw at him, catching him in the ribs but it doesn’t even seem to phase him. 
“What was your plan?” He growls, pressing harder against your chest as he keeps you pinned. “Try to take me off my feet? I’m bigger and stronger than you. That’s never going to work.” 
“Then stop being such a dick!” You yell, landing a kick against his hip. “You’re just a bully. A big bully. You’re just like my dad!” 
Both of you freeze at your words, your eyes wide as you stare up at him. His hand closes around the neck of your tanktop and for half a moment you’re scared he might sink his hand in and pull your spine right out through your chest. Instead he releases you, pushing himself up with a growl and making for his shoes. 
You push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he slips them on, grabbing his things before leaving out the door. 
You stare at the door wide eyed as it slams closed. You’re still laying there, chest heaving. You stare at it, half expecting it to open back up, for him to come back. He wouldn’t leave you alone, would he? He’s not supposed to. You’re supposed to have one of them with you at all times. 
You push yourself up onto shaky legs, slowly approaching the door, half expecting it to fly back open. Maybe he’s just standing right outside, maybe he’s just taking a breath and clearing his head. The handle is cold against your heated skin as you pull it open, sticking your head out. 
The hallway is empty. 
You quickly duck back inside, closing the door. He wouldn’t leave you. He wouldn’t leave you. Maybe he went to the bathroom. Maybe he just needed a moment to clear his head. Maybe he’s coming back. 
You sink onto the bench, trying to control your breathing as it starts to get heavy. You can feel that buzzing sensation in your head, your fingers and toes starting to go numb with panic. The one time you leave your phone behind, it’s the one time you need it. Maybe he’s coming back. 
You continue to sit there, waiting, fingers trembling as you put your shoes back on. Someone has to notice your absence eventually. Someone will notice you’re not in your room and you’re not answering your phone. Someone will come looking. 
Or is this a test? 
You’re panicking now, breaths coming in short gasps. You can’t just walk out of here using the front door. There’s alphas and betas crawling all over the gym and there could be a hundred between you and the barracks now. Someone will stop you. Someone will make a scene. 
You can’t reach the windows. Even then, they don’t open and it would be a straight drop to the ground on the other side. You can’t go out the front, but there’s an emergency exit just a few feet down the hallway the other direction. The medical center is the closest building to the gym. Even if Dr. Keller isn’t in her office this early, any of them would be the most likely to help you, to alert Price to your abandoned state. 
You have to get out of the gym. Your scent will reach the others in the building eventually, and someone will take notice. Someone will be bold enough to come after the lone omega. You’re panicking, your entire body trembling. Just out the door to the left and through the emergency exit. Then it’s just a few hundred yards to the medical center and then down the hall to Dr. Keller’s office. 
You can make it. You spent three months running with the CIA. Speed has always been your strength. Get out the door before anyone notices. You have to get out before someone notices and blocks your exit. 
Your mind goes blank as you throw open the door, feet slipping as you race around the corner and down to the emergency door. You don’t even feel the ache in your shoulder as you jam yourself against the door, not caring if it sets off an alarm as you shove your way out to the cool morning air. Your feet move without your brain needing to tell you as you sprint towards the medical building. There’s no one outside, no one milling in the area. No one sees you as you race through the doors, the automatic sliding doors almost catching you as you speed through them and down the hall. Your shoes squeak on the laminate floor, squealing as you slide to a stop in front of Dr. Keller’s office. 
You don’t even check if the light is on before you’re frantically knocking. Your breaths are coming in shallow gasps, black dots dancing in your vision as you fight to get air into your lungs. You need to be somewhere safe, you need somewhere safe before you pass out. You can’t pass out in the hallway. It’s not safe. 
You nearly fall as the door swings open, stumbling into the office. Dr. Keller says your name but you barely hear it, your legs giving out. She catches you before you fall, easing you into a chair. You sink into the plushness, shaking violently as you stare at her with wide, panicked eyes. 
“What is it?” She asks. “What happened?” 
“He...he left me!” You sob, your body starting to curl in on itself. “He...he just left me!” 
Dr. Keller’s voice sounds far away as she speaks, your vision starting to tunnel. You barely register the blanket being draped around your shoulders, the soft fabric tickling your cheeks. 
You don’t hear Dr. Keller on the phone, far too gone in your distress to hear the urgency in her normally calm and composed tone. 
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Dr. Keller opens the door almost as soon as the knock sounds. Price is slightly out of breath, having reached the office faster than she had expected him to. 
“She’s in distress.” Dr. Keller explains as she lets Price into the office, shutting and locking the door behind him. “I need you to be clear headed.” She tells the alpha. “We can worry about why later, right now we need to get her calmed down, understood?” 
“Yes, Doctor” He nods, fighting the urge to recoil at the sharp bitter tang of omega distress heavy in the air. 
He’s angry, beyond angry but he knows he can’t let that take over right now. 
“You’ll need to hold her.” Dr. Keller says, approaching where you’re sitting on the chair. You’re hunched over, arms clutched to your chest as you gasp and wheeze, almost hyperventilating.  “It might be easiest on the floor.” 
It’s like moving a stone statue as he takes you into his arms, muscles tense and joints locked as your body attempts to protect itself. He sinks to the floor with you in his lap, wrapping his arms around you to support you.
“Slow deep breaths.” Dr. Keller pushes your head against his chest. “Get her to copy you. If her blood pressure gets too high, or she passes out we might risk losing her to her omega, and that will be dangerous for all of us.” 
“I know.” Price says as he puts a hand on your head, keeping you against his chest. “I’ve seen it happen.” He presses his cheek against the top of your head, taking slow, even breaths. “Come on, sweetheart. Alpha’s got you. Need you to breathe for me.” 
Dr. Keller slips a blood pressure monitor around your arm, fighting the stiffness of your limbs as she sticks a pulse monitor to your chest. Price continues to speak to you, trying to get you to relax.
Slowly as the minutes pass, your breathing begins to slow. Dr. Keller monitors your blood pressure and heart rate, watching it slowly begin to come down as the presence of your alpha soothes your distressing omega. 
“There we go.” Dr. Keller says, squeezing your arm gently. 
Your breathing slows, but your breaths are still heavy and shaky as you slowly begin to sink into Price’s hold, your muscles slowly relaxing from their tense state. You let out a high-pitched whine as the discomfort begins to set in, tears leaking from your eyes. 
“I know.” Dr. Keller says gently. “You’re doing so good.” 
You begin to shake uncontrollably again, Price tightening his hold around you. His hand moves to the back of your neck instinctively, gently massaging the tense muscles. 
“It’s just the adrenaline.” Dr. Keller explains, moving to the closet and pulling out a stuffed bear. She kneels back down, working your arms away from your chest just enough that she can slip the bear into your arms. “Squeeze that for me.” She says, pushing on your arms until you take over, squeezing the bear to your chest. 
You’re still crying as the shaking slowly begins to subside, another whine leaving your lips. You continue to squeeze the bear to your chest, brows pulling into a frown. 
“Don’ feel good.” You slur, taking a deep breath in. 
“I know, honey, I know.” Dr. Keller says, squeezing your leg. “You did really good, coming down from that. Just keep breathing and relaxing for me.” 
You continue to follow Price’s breathing, trying to will your muscles to relax in your exhausted state. Price continues stroking the back of your neck, his heart thumping steadily beneath your ear. 
“One more squeeze on your arm and then I can take the monitor off.” Dr. Keller says, taking your blood pressure one more time. “It’s normal if she’s a bit achy and sore for a couple days.” She explains to Price. “She might be a bit disoriented later too. The best thing she can do is rest and someone should stay with her at all times just in case.” 
Price leans his chin against your head, fighting the anger building within him. Something happened to cause this, and he has an inkling as to what it was. He tightens his hold around you as you sink into him even more, the shaking starting to subside. 
“You don’t sedate for distress?” He asks as Dr. Keller removes the heart monitor and the blood pressure cuff from you. 
Dr. Keller shakes her head. “Sedation can make distress worse in some cases. It’s jarring and disorienting and in some cases the omega might wake up and continue distressing. It’s only useful in cases of an actual medical emergency, or if there’s no alpha to provide a sense of safety and the omega starts to take over. Then they become a danger to everyone around them and themselves.” 
“I know how devastating that can be.” He says, staring down at you. “The worst people in the world like to use omegas as shields and bait. Sometimes there’s no other way...they get caught in the middle of bullets flying and explosions. The scent of blood and fear around them.” He shakes his head. “Even if they survive that, even if you save them, it’s too much and you just lose them to the omega.” 
“It makes me sick.” Dr. Keller shakes her head. “They’re human beings just like you and me and they get treated like chattel. They’re seen as nothing but property and valued only by what they can be used for. Omegas are incredible beings. In ancient cultures they were revered, worshiped. Some cultures believed they were closest to the gods, and some thought they were gods sent to earth to bless those that deserved it. How far humanity has fallen.” 
“You have a lot of respect for omegas.” Price says. 
“Respect, love, care. Someone in this world has to. That’s why I became a specialist.” Dr. Keller smiles. “Didn’t think I’d end up here, but if I can help even just one omega, that’s more than enough for me.” She pushes herself up to stand. “Let’s get her back to the barracks. She’ll be more comfortable in a familiar atmosphere.” 
Price pushes himself to stand, keeping you close to his chest. Dr. Keller locks her office behind her before following Price as he carries you from the medical center. 
“She needs to eat.” Dr. Keller says. “She won’t feel like it, but she needs the calories after that. She might be emotional and resistant for a bit, but once she’s fully awake she’ll be alright. Well...that might be a bad way to describe it. If anything happens, or she starts getting worse. Call me.” 
“I will.” Price tightens his grip for a moment, pushing down the anger. He can’t let it take over yet. He still has you to take care of. He still has his omega to look after. 
Dr. Keller opens the door to the barracks for him, watching him walk down the hallway for a moment before turning and leaving. 
Price opens your door, carrying you into your room. He lays you on your bed, making sure you’re comfortable before he steps back out the door. The scent of distress is heavy on him still, as is his building anger. 
“MacTavish! Garrick!” He shouts, both of the beta’s doors opening almost immediately. “Have either of you seen Lieutenant Riley this morning?” 
Johnny frowns, both of them approaching the obviously agitated alpha. “Naw, I havenae seen him all mornin’.” 
“I thought he was training this morning.” Kyle says, a frown pulling at his brows too. “Did something happen?” 
He steps back into your room, the two betas following. Kyle sucks in a breath as he stares at you laying there, seemingly peacefully but the quickly suffocating scent tells him otherwise. He moves to your side, sinking down on the edge of the bed next to you. 
“Wha’ happened?” Johnny asks, a subtle tremble to his voice. 
“There was an incident this morning.” Price says, digging into the very depths of his training to keep his head on straight. “Sent her into distress.” 
“That bastard.” Johnny growls. “When I find him-” 
“Easy.” Price says, putting a hand on the beta’s chest to stop him from his rampage. “You and I are going to get some food and then come back here. Garrick, you stay with our girl. If anything starts to go wrong, you call Dr. Keller first, then me. Then, I’ve got ghost hunting to do.” 
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“Ye sure we’re alright, bein’ in her nest like this?” 
“It’s not much of a nest. Besides, our girl needs us.” 
“‘S cozy, that’s for sure.” 
“Could get used to it.” 
You have no control over the whine that’s pulled from your chest as you’re thrust into consciousness. You feel a bit like you’ve been hit by a truck, tossed from an airplane with no parachute, and like you just ran a marathon with no training, all at once. 
“Easy, love.” 
Hands smooth over your face, calluses rough on your burning skin. You feel hot, yet not warm enough at the same time. Your skin is prickling, needing freedom but to be held tighter than you already are. Someone is in front of you, their hand the one on your face. Someone else is behind you, wrapped around your back, arms keeping you held tightly against them. 
“Can ye open yer eyes for me, pretty girl?” 
Your eyelids feel like they’re made of lead. You don’t want to. You want to keep your eyes closed and sink back into oblivion where nothing hurts and you’re not confused. You let out another quiet whine before you force your eyes open, staring up at the blurry shape above you. 
“That’s it, lovely.” Soap says, his fingers still stroking your face. “That’s a good girl.” 
“Soap?” You whine, your voice cracking. 
He shushes you, tucking your face against his neck, letting you inhale his scent. “We've got ye, lamb.”
Another hand trails down your arm, gently squeezing. You're sore, even your breaths make your body ache. 
“You remember what happened, love?” Gaz says quietly, his hand the one gently stroking your arm. 
You inhale sharply, trying to clear the fog in your mind. “Ghost...” You breathe, the images coming to your mind but the words are lost. “Left me.” 
“Aye.” Soap says, sounding hurt and disappointed. “He was being a right bastard and left ye in the gym alone. Ye ran for the med center. Found the doctor.” 
“I...” You take a shaky breath, remembering the panic, the feeling of getting further and further from your body. “I was distressing.”
Gaz hums, wrapping his arms around you. “You distressed, love. Dr. Keller got Price in there in time, worked you through it.”
You let out a shaky breath, letting yourself go limp between them. It makes sense why you feel so awful, why your head is swimming. “What time is it?”
“Just after lunch.” Gaz says. 
“Gave us hell tryin’ tae feed ye.” Soap says. “Half fightin’ us, half out of it.” 
“Ghost?” You ask, almost afraid to find out the answer. 
“Got quite the verbal lashing from Cap'n Price.” Soap says. “Was gone for an hour yellin’ at him.”
It doesn't feel like enough, but you won't admit that out loud. You lean back against Gaz, letting both of their scents wash over you. 
“How do you feel, love?” Gaz asks. 
“Hurts.” You murmur, wrapping an arm around Soap. 
“I know. I'm sorry you had to go through this.” Gaz says pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “Just relax, love. We've got you.” 
You let your eyes slip closed again, relaxing between the two betas. You don't care that they're in your room, squished together in your bed with you. You need them and their support. 
You'd prefer having Price too, but you won’t dare say that out loud.
You fade in and out of sleep, letting them help you up a couple times as they move around, and move you around, helping you stretch to ease the ache in your joints and muscles. You wind up laying on Soap as Gaz goes to get dinner, his arms wrapped around your middle as you rest on his chest. 
“I am sorry about Simon.” He says quietly, lips brushing your forehead. 
“Don’t apologize for him.” You murmur. “It was partially my fault. I was egging him on.” 
“He shouldnae done tha’ though.” Soap says. “Leavin’ ye like that. ‘S dangerous, and not just for you.” 
“I did good. I got out without running into anyone.” You say, trying to reassure yourself before you lose it again. 
“You did perfectly.” A voice says, making you jump. 
Soap gently rubs your back as you blink up at Price. He’s standing in the doorway, holding two trays of food. You hadn’t even heard the door open. 
“Go on and eat in the mess, Johnny.” Price says, setting the trays on your desk. “I’ve got her for now.” 
Soap gently eases you off of him, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaving you alone with Price. He carries over a tray, setting it on your nightstand before kneeling down in front of you. He turns on your lamp, illuminating the room more than it was with your nightlight and the fading light outside. 
“How do you feel?” He asks, taking your hand in his. 
“Sore.” You say, squeezing his fingers. “But less than I was earlier. Moving around helped.” You sniffle, wiping the tear that escapes. “A bit weepy too.” 
Price smiles softly at you. “That’s expected. I’d be more worried if you weren’t.” He cups your face. “You did the right thing, taking the back exit and going for Dr. Keller’s office.” 
“Was closer.” You murmur. “Less risk of running into someone.” 
Price nods. “I doubt anyone would have stopped you, but that is still a risk.” He grabs the tray from the nightstand. “Eat up. I know you don’t feel like it, but you need it.” 
It’s almost like he read your mind. He moves to your desk, sitting in the chair. The food looks less appetizing than usual, but you know he’s right. Omegas expend a lot of energy while in distress. You’ll feel better if you eat. From the sounds of it, Gaz and Soap had attempted to feed you while you were still out of it, though you’re not sure how successful they were. 
You eat mostly in silence, but you don’t mind. You don’t have the brain power to think enough for a conversation, and you’re more than happy to just bask in Price’s calming presence. 
Gaz and Soap return after dinner, Price taking his leave again. You’re sure he’s busy, especially after this incident, but you can’t help but feel the sting of it just a bit. He had helped you through your distress, calming you down. You want him to lay next to you, to hold the back of your neck and remind you that he’s here, that he’s got you. 
That he’ll never leave you like that. 
Instead you curl up between Soap and Gaz, letting the calming present of betas relax you back to sleep. 
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You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up. Soap is gone, but Gaz is still pressed against your back, breathing evenly. You grab one of the phones off the nightstand, glancing at the time. It’s just past one a.m. You’re feeling thirsty again, and like you need to stretch your legs. Gaz is coiled around you, and you’re not sure how to get out without waking him up. You don’t want to disturb him, and you want a second to breathe and clear your head without the influence of his scent. 
You carefully roll away enough to grab the strawberry pillow off the floor from where it likely rolled after Soap left. You slowly ease it between your bodies until he’s wrapped around the pillow, settling with a sigh. You let out a quiet breath, rising from the bed slowly and padding quietly to the door. Your eyes are on him as you unlock it, slipping out quickly. You leave it cracked open before sneaking down the hallway towards the rec room. 
It’s quiet in the barracks, almost eerily so as you slip into the empty room, heading for the fridge. You stand there, half debating on a beer instead of water. Perhaps a little alcohol might numb at least some of the ache in your joins, or at least clear your mind a bit. You hate the taste of beer, though, and Gaz would know immediately. 
You sigh, grabbing a water, the back of your neck prickling as you stand up. You close the fridge door, whirling around, a scream caught in your throat. 
“Are you going to scream?” Ghost’s voice rumbles from behind his mask. He’s standing just inside the rec room, blocking the doorway. 
“Are you going to hurt me?” You ask, flattening yourself against the fridge. 
“Why would I do that?” He has the gaul to sound almost confused. 
“You seemed pretty eager to this morning.” You say, clutching the water bottle to your chest. “You abandoned me.” 
“I didn’t. I was right behind you the whole time, until you went into the med center.” He explains, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. 
“Well how was I supposed to know that?” You snap, getting agitated by the alpha and how he’s treated you thus far. “You just up and left me by myself in a vulnerable place. How was I supposed to know you were still there? For all I knew you were halfway back to the barracks. Was I just supposed to blindly trust that you would be there, that you would follow me if I decided to brave walking past a bunch of worked up alphas? I can’t trust that. I can’t trust you like that.” 
“Why not?” 
“Because you haven’t given me a reason to!” You almost shout it, just managing to keep control over your volume so you don’t accidentally wake the others. “You don’t like me, you keep treating me like shit. Just going off of that, I wouldn’t put it past you to just up and leave me to fend for myself.” 
“I wouldn’t.” 
“But you did! You did today! You put me in danger! I distressed because of you! I haven’t distressed since-” You cut yourself off, deflating a bit at your near slip of words. You’re not sure you want to open that can of worms, allow for that kind of vulnerability with the alpha that had nearly killed you earlier. But, maybe you do need that kind of vulnerability. Maybe he needs it. “Since I was taken to the institute.” You finish, feeling yourself deflating a bit. 
Tears prick at your eyes, his own figure visibly deflating a bit. That scent is back, the one from a couple nights ago when you had run into him in a similar situation. You want out of here, you want back to the safety of doors around you, doors that could be opened and Ghost pulled from you easily if needed. 
“Move.” You say, bravely squaring up to the alpha blocking you in. 
He says your name like a warning, not budging an inch. 
“Move!” You shout, going for his middle with your shoulder, but he’s faster, catching you before you can hit him. 
“Calm down.” He growls, trying to hold your squirming form. 
One scream. One scream and the others would be on you. How quickly could Ghost act, though? How quickly could his hand close around your throat and squeeze, or maybe even twist? 
“Calm down!” He growls again, forcing you backwards. 
Your feet slip on the tile, sending you back onto your back. You wince at the jolt to your already sore body, the air leaving your lungs in a harsh gasp. Ghost sinks down to the floor next to the couch, leaning against the side of it like he can’t bear to hold himself up anymore. 
“It was a long time ago.” He starts, the tiredness evident in his voice. His eyes are on the floor in front of you, not even looking up as you push yourself up onto your elbows. “Back when I was a newly made Sergeant. My first deployment, first mission. We were hunting a man, real scum of the earth, chasing him through the jungle.” 
You almost want to stop him, unsure if he can even be telling you this, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. 
“Things got complicated when he swept through a village, picked up all the local omegas. He was using them as human shields. We cornered him in some run down shack. Him, his men, and the poor omegas. The commanding officer in charge of the mission started hostage negotiations, tried to get him to let the omegas go. He knew he’d lost, he’d never get out of there without being captured or killed.” Ghost shakes his head, letting out a heavy breath. “So he agreed. The commanding officer had to have known. We all should have known.” 
He goes silent, the quiet of the barracks and the world outside almost eerie. You’re sitting up now, almost holding your breath in anticipation. You’re not sure he’s ever spoken this much to you at once before, much less something that’s obviously so vulnerable, and potentially confidential. 
“He sent the omegas out in all directions, running straight at us. We were ordered to stay where we were. We couldn’t run out there, we couldn’t help them.” His hands close into fists, his scent souring. “They started firing at the omegas. There was one running straight at me. I still remember her, the look on her face. The fear in her eyes as she raced towards me.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I remember how the blood felt splattering on my face. The bullet shot right past my ear. She fell close enough I could have reached out and touched her. Clean shot right through the back of her head.” 
He shakes his head, finally looking at you. Tears have gathered in your eyes as you stare at him. His scent is sour, tinged with the tanginess that you had smelled a couple nights ago when he ran into you coming back from the rec room.
Fear. 
That scent is fear. 
“I still think about it. What if I had disobeyed orders? What if I had just reached out to help her? Would she have made it? Could we have brought at least one omega back to that village? Would the bullet have hit me instead?” He lets out a long breath. “I still have nightmares about it. See it clear as day, that look on her face seconds before her life ended.” 
You’re moving, crawling closer to him. He doesn’t move, not even a blink or a flinch as you get closer and closer until you’re in front of him, close enough to see the light blonde color of his lashes. He still won’t look at you, his gaze on the floor as you sit in front of him. 
“You saw me.” You say softly, not needing him to explain further. “Instead of some omega, it was me in your dream. You’re afraid. That’s why you treat me the way you do. You’re scared if you get close to me, if you allow me into the pack, allow me into this life, that something like that will happen to me. That’s why you were afraid that night, when I went to the rec room to grab water. You woke up from a nightmare about me.” 
He doesn’t say anything, but you don’t need him to. You’re beginning to understand him now. One moment of vulnerability and the complex specter that is Ghost is beginning to become clearer and clearer to you. He’s beginning to take shape, forming out of the mists of confusion and aggression that have plagued you since your arrival in his life. 
“That doesn’t make what you did okay.” You say, breaking the eerie silence again. “It doesn’t make the way you treat me okay, but I guess...I guess I can understand why now. Why you’re so hard on me, why you resist my mere existence here. You don’t have to like me, I’d just like you to be nice to me a little bit. You’re never going to convince Soap not to pursue anything, so, you’re just going to have to get used to me being around.” 
The corners of his eyes crease. It’s a half a second of movement, but you manage to catch it. He finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, eyes emotionless as they usually are when they look at you. 
“I still don’t forgive you for what you did.” You say, staring up at him. “And I don’t trust you,” You pull your knees up to your chest. “But I suppose I was also a bit at fault, saying those things to you.” 
“I deserved it.” He says. “I was being a dick.” 
Your brows raise as you stare at him. “Are you...apologizing?” 
“Don’t rub it in.” He says, the warning clear in his tone. 
“Well, I guess it’s a start.” You say. “I should probably get back to bed before Gaz notices I’m gone.” 
Ghost lets out a huff. “I’m surprised you escaped without him noticing.” 
You shrug, pushing yourself up to stand slowly. “He’s snuggling a stuffed strawberry right now, so...that probably says a lot about one of us and I’m not sure which is worse.” 
“Come on.” Ghost motions with his head. “Last thing we need is another panic at 2 am.” 
“Another panic?” You ask, dropping your voice to a whisper as you leave the rec room. 
Ghost chuckles. “You’ll have to ask Johnny about that one.” 
You stare at him for a moment as you stand in front of your cracked door. “Goodnight, Ghost.” 
He nods to you before you slip in, closing and locking the door. He stands there, listening to the bed shift as you crawl back into Kyle’s hold. He can picture the way the beta’s limbs coil around you like a snake. Would you lie facing him and cling to him like a koala? Or would you prefer facing away from him, letting him envelop you in a feeling of security and protection? 
Ghost shakes his head, inhaling the faint whiff of your scent still in the air before he turns, staring at his door for a moment before moving back down the hall, slipping into Johnny’s room instead. 
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