#constructive criticism is welcomed; straight up criticism is not

[araekniarchive]

eve, the preceding

[itsphoenix0724]

Promises (Rhysand x Reader)

Summary: You don't argue with your husband often, and never anything as serious as this. However, some things may be too hard to come back from.

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of Rhys' trauma from under the mountain

Word Count: 1.7k

Part 2

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time writing for Rhys, but I apologize; this isn't the happiest thing! This takes place during ACOMAF, and I tried to keep it canon accurate. I may have diverged a little though! I really just needed to get some angst out from first week of school stress lol. If you ever want to interact with me my requests are open! As always constructive criticism is very welcome! I tried to makes this a realistic portrayl of real feelings and emotions. I hope you all enjoy even if it stamps on your heart a bit <3

You’re sitting at the dinner table in the Townhouse, nursing a glass of wine, when you feel your Husband’s power rumble into your bones. It normally feels comforting to you, but now all it does is further the knot of anxiety growing in your stomach.

It’s been a long week. 

It was the first time that Rhys had called in his bargain with Feyre. You’ll always be eternally grateful for what Feyre did for your family, for your court, and the entirety of Prythian. It still didn’t stop the ugly jealousy that clawed at your insides at Rhys spending the week away from you with her. Especially after you learned about the dancing. You knew why it had to happen, you really did. He had explained everything to you in the tearful reunion after he returned from under the mountain. 

You hope Amarantha burned in whatever hell she crawled out from. 

“How was your first week,” you take another gulp of wine, trying to drown the spiders crawling up your throat. 

“I think she’s making some progress. Tamlin isn’t even teaching her how to read! Can you believe that? Even after he saw it almost kill her and his supposedly beloved emissary.” He rubbed out the crease forming between his eyebrows, maneuvering around the kitchen as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. “She was paper thin and so so pale.” he shook his head as he knocked back the liquor. 

“You didn’t come home the whole time.” You tried your best to keep the venom tamped down in your voice, you weren’t even really angry just confused. Judging by the way the muscles in his back tensed your endeavor had not been successful. 

You knew he would have to call in this bargain eventually you just didn’t expect him to ignore you the entire time she was here. He could’ve taken you with him, you had even expressed interest in meeting Feyre. You had wanted to thank her personally for everything she did to you and extend an olive branch for her time in your court. Rhys had shut down the idea immediately because he thought she might have been overwhelmed. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” he turned around and looked at you from his spot leaning against the counter. You didn’t look at him, staring straight at the grooves on the table. You sensed the defensive tone immediately. Rhys almost looks like a cat with all the hair raised on its back. Feline eyes sizing you up like he’s about to pounce on you.

“I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have come home to even sleep. When I tried to reach you mind to mind your shields were up.” Your nails dig into the wood, leaving crescent marks in the pine. Rhys doesn’t have an answer for that when you meet his eyes. It almost looks like he’s looking through you instead of at you. 

“I didn’t want to leave her alone in case she tried to jump out a window.” He says the answer matter-of-factly. It’s the same tone you heard him use during the conferences he held with the citizens. He wasn’t exactly brushing you off, but it didn’t feel like he was listening to you either. 

“Why couldn’t you have just told me that?” Your voice cracked. You have been married to Rhys for almost one hundred years. You could tell when he was being shifty, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something from you. Judging from that regretful look in his eye you were correct. 

“I thought you would react poorly. Clearly, I was correct.” The clipped tone is enough to send a white-hot bolt of anger through your body. 

“Do not blame your poor communication skills on me Rhysand.” The glare you fixed him with could have brought the monster that lurks in the bottom of the library to its knees, but Rhys just met your eyes with a steeled look of his own. 

“She needed help. She was begging somebody to come rescue her. She was withering away in the Spring Court! You know how many times I’ve been pulled from bed because she’s vomiting during the night-” Rhys sounded exasperated. But you were tired, so tired. 

“You’ve barely come to bed since you’ve been back.” Your voice was hardly more than a whisper, but the deafening silence that followed your words made it sound like an explosion. You knew it was a low blow. Rhys sometimes couldn’t stomach sleeping in your bed after what Amarantha did to him. After he was startled awake one night a bolt of his power shot your sleeping form out of the bed because, in his nightmare-filled haze, he had mistaken you for her. He had felt awful, and now mostly slept in one of the guest rooms in fear that he would cause serious damage to you. You had tried to convince him, but he knew how powerful he could be, so you relented. 

“You don’t get to throw that in my face right now.” The growl that came from your husband sounded like cold black death. “She needs to be trained. She needs help-” all the pent-up emotion started to boil over inside you. Your airway got smaller, white noise was sounding through your head, and your eyes couldn’t focus on a spot infront of you. 

“I DO NOT CARE WHAT FEYRE NEEDS!” the boom in your voice surprised even you. Rhys took a step back, you rarely even raised your voice, let alone yelled at him. His eyes widened, but his flood of emotions quickly matched yours. 

“SHE SAVED ME! I PROMISED TO KEEP HER SAFE!” The way Rhy’s voice ricocheted off the walls made you flinch. The pure night-kissed power had stolen the warmth from the room and all the air from your lungs. 

“You made promises to me too. Do you remember that?” your voice echoed out with calm fury as you slipped your ring off your finger and held it up to the light. “Do you remember the promises you made to me when you put this ring on my finger?” You didn’t even know where the rage was coming from, You weren’t angry, but it grabbed ahold like cold unforgiving ocean waves and kept pulling you farther into the eye of the hurricane. “You pledged to me your undying loyalty, your faithfulness, your honesty.” That last word coated your tongue in acid. 

It burned you and Rhys as it left your mouth. 

“Do you truly believe I have been unfaithful to you?” his voice grated out like shards of glass. However, in your current state, it seemed more condescending than questioning. 

“I believe you are not being honest with me. I have been married to you for practically 100 years, and have known you even longer. Do you think I don’t know when you’re not telling me something?”  You shot up from your seat and slammed your wedding ring on the table. His violet shield slipped for just a moment to see the hurt flash in his eyes. You haven’t taken that ring off since he gave it to you. 

“You are being irrational.” Rhys tried to step towards you, but you only backed away from him, shaking your head as tears welled up in your eyes. 

“Why are you being so secretive about Feyre? She is engaged Rhys-you took her from her wedding. If she truly needed help why not bring her to Velaris? Why not let her meet me? Why not let her be happy with Tamlin?” The questions kept pouring out but the protective growl Rhysand made at your last statement had you recoiling. He had given himself away. He obviously knew it too, as he tried to step towards you. The tears kept pouring out as you shook your head. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Right now.” Rhys finally hung his head in defeat as he slumped into one of the chairs. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as he stared at your trembling figure from the other side of the table. 

“She is my mate.” Your eyes widened in horror. It felt like the dinner you made earlier tonight was going to make another appearance on your kitchen floor. “She is my mate and I don’t know what to do.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know what to do?” Your voice was shaking with scarcely contained fury as you stormed up to the table. “I am your wife. I am your people’s queen. What more is there to think about? I thought you loved me.” A new wave of tears washed over you, and you swear you could hear your heart breaking. It was so loud. You wonder if Rhys could hear it too. 

“Of course I love you!” he looked at you with desperation and pleading in his eyes. “It’s just more complicated.” You shook your head at him as your sobs finally flowed out of your body. 

“It shouldn’t be complicated,” you heaved out through the tears “You promised to choose me every day. If you can’t do that I can’t be here.” You turn from the table and march up the stairs. You distantly hear Rhys get up and follow you to your room as you shove clothes inside a bag. 

“What are you doing? You’re not leaving, are you?” His eyes widened in horror as he tried to grab the items out of your hands. “Darling-”

“Do not call me that right now.” You manage to sniff out the words behind the tears. “I just can’t be here if you cannot choose me. There shouldn’t even be a question.” 

“Where will you go?” He at least had it in him to sound concerned about your well-being. 

“I don’t know, anywhere but here.” You shoved the last thing in your suitcase and winnowed away without another word. You left Rhysand in your house, with your ring sitting on the table. He found himself sitting at the kitchen table for the rest of the night, nursing a bottle of whisky and running over the cool sapphire with the pad of his thumb. He didn’t know if you were ever coming back. He didn’t know where you went. 

What the fuck had he done?

[no1frogfan]

Haikyuu boys you meet while pet-sitting

Daichi, Matsukawa, Kuroo, Ushijima x afab reader Word count: ~1.6k Tags & warnings: Smut, smut, n more SMUT-MDNI, thigh riding, dom (teeny tiny), praise, p in v, creampie (implied), oral sex (m and f receiving), hair pulling, fingering, throat fucking, I love a man that smells good and has a sexy voice

Note: New year, same horny me. This got out of hand. Recently did a lot of pet-sitting and I wish any (all) of this happened. It’s my first time writing smut - thoughts & constructive criticism welcome

more boys | boys 3

You meet Daichi before you even start cat-sitting. Due to a last-minute itinerary change, your friend flew out a day early and left her extra key with a neighbor for you to pick up. He opens the door dressed in a t-shirt and shorts and you’re reduced to a stammering mess as you gape at his immense biceps and thighs, trying to explain that you’re the cat-sitter and sorry for disturbing him but could you please get your friend’s key?

Daichi is too polite to comment on your wandering eyes and nervous stuttering, but he’s smirking to himself after he closes his door. Unfortunately for your composure, he suddenly finds himself needing to borrow a lot of things. Could he get some sugar? One of his best friends is an elementary school teacher, you see, and he wants to bring some cookies for the kids when he goes for a class visit. Does your friend have a wrench he can use? You don’t know where it is? Well, why doesn’t he come in to help you find it? You get used to seeing him every day, although he makes you short circuit each time, your nerves constantly on edge because he’s always murmuring things in your ear (he doesn’t want to startle you by yelling) or accidentally brushing against you (he can’t help it, he’s just so broad).

He finally decides to stop teasing you and asks you out to dinner. He’s so sweet and funny, and you find that when you’re not too flustered to function, you really enjoy his company, so much so that you invite him in for a drink afterward. The alcohol must have gone to straight to your pussy though because you quickly find yourself straddling him, absolutely intoxicated by his deep voice and masculine scent. You’re drenched and you can feel him straining against his pants, but he doesn’t want to rush it with you. He exudes natural authority, which is why you don’t let out a peep of protest when he tells you to ride his thigh first. He sits back with his hands behind his head and drinks in your furrowed brow and desperate whimpers as you grind yourself against his rock-hard muscle, cooing, “You’re doing so good, baby. Be really good and cum for me and I’ll give you a big reward.”

You’re confused when you call for your friend’s cat to come inside one night only to see her climb out of the neighbor’s window. The neighbor in question, Matsukawa, steps out onto the shared balcony and is just as confused to see you. You tell him you’re cat-sitting and he explains that your friend’s cat likes to sit on his laptop while he works. It turns into a comfortable routine to talk with him in the evenings while you wait for the cat to return. He’s incredibly handsome, but more than that he’s magnetic, witty, and has an absolutely lewd sense of humor that he’s surprised you love.

What you don’t know is that he’s got a major problem with you. The problem being he’s confused - no, frustrated - by why you’ve suddenly started wearing a shirt so flimsy it leaves nothing to the imagination. Every night, he struggles to keep himself from fixating on the swell of your breasts and the outline of your nipples poking through the sheer fabric. When he retreats to his apartment after your chats, he’s so worked up he has to fuck his fist, picturing how you’d look underneath him, glassy-eyed and drooling with his cum all over those pretty tits and leaking out of your pussy.

After a solid week, he decides enough is enough and invites you over. The two of you barely make it more than 10 minutes. He’s pouring you a drink when you confess you’ve been wearing that shirt on purpose after seeing him out on a run. In a flash, Issei’s got you bent over his kitchen counter, pulling your panties to the side. He barely needs to prep you because you’ve been looking forward to this all day, cursing under his breath as his fingers slide in with little resistance. He pulls your head back by your hair and growls into your ear while he rails you from behind, “If you’re gonna tease me, you better be ready to show me what this tight little pussy can do.” You barely register what he’s saying because the only thing you can focus on is how full you feel with each delicious drag of his thick cock against your slick walls. His cum drips down your thighs as he reaches between your legs one more time. “Gonna cum on my cock again baby?”

You first see Kuroo one morning while walking your friend’s dog. He’s out on a run with his own dog and you’d have to be a statue to be impervious to how his shirt clings to his chest. He sees you checking him out and decides to give you a show by lifting up the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his neck. Except he accidentally uses the same hand that’s holding the leash, causing his dog to pull him forward flat onto his face. After you make sure they’re both ok, you let yourself laugh so hard you get a stomachache.

You wonder if you’ll run into him again after that fiasco. He must be shameless because he makes sure to leave the house at the same time the next morning to catch you. He’s more sheepish this time, though he still drops some cheesy jokes. You run into him every morning after that, and every evening too. He always stops to chat. You give him shit for how unfunny he is, but he lives to hear your groans when he comes up with an especially terrible line. You two fluster each other constantly. His stomach flutters on the rare instances he actually makes you laugh - loudly and genuinely - at something he says. Meanwhile, you’re speechless when he starts running without a shirt on (because it’s hot out and not for any other reason), eyes hungrily taking in every inch of corded muscle. He smirks when he catches you gawking at him yet again, “Want me to ask you over or something?” Let me tell you, that false bravado slips right off when you reply, “Yea, I’d like that,” and suddenly he’s the one that's a stuttering wreck.

You go over to watch a movie together that night, but don’t get far because it’s adorable how he fidgets with his hair and his cheeky grin is so charming and he smells so enticing that it’s impossible to keep your hands to yourself. He shoos his dog out of the bedroom when you get down to business because “I don’t want her to see this.” As ridiculous as this man is, he is an artiste when it comes to eating pussy. He’s got you cumming around his tongue and fingers for the fourth time and doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. You’re gasping for breath, barely able to form a coherent thought, cunt drenched and clenching and begging for him to fuck you already. “Cum for me one more time baby, then I’ll do whatever you want.” But he’s said that three times already.

You’re intimidated when Ushijima opens his door but not too intimidated to ogle him as drops of sweat glide down his naked torso. You’ve interrupted him in the middle of a workout, but how were you to know? You just wanted to hand over a package that had been misdelivered to your friend’s apartment next door. You watch the way his muscles ripple as he reaches for the box, and he watches you brazenly eyefuck him (to be fair, his pecs are right there, not to mention the shadow of something massive in his shorts).

After that, he always offers a polite hello in the hallway, but never initiates conversation and only gives you one-word responses, so you figure he’s not interested. It’s disappointing, but at least you can still fantasize about him, moaning his name while knuckle deep in your soaking cunt, desperately wishing it was his thick fingers instead. You hear a knock and hurriedly throw on a robe to find Ushijima at the door. He clears his throat. “Were you…calling for me?” SHIT. You forgot to close the windows. If only the ground would swallow you whole right now so you don’t have to stammer out an excuse, any excuse.

But then you notice the nervous bob of his adam’s apple and the bulge in his pants, and you find yourself asking if he came over to help. He nods, following you to the couch obediently like a huge puppy. He’s so timid at first, letting out sweet little whines when you wrap your lips around him, barely able to fit a few inches in your mouth. But now he’s grunting like a feral thing as he fists your hair, slamming his cock over and over again into the back of your throat, unable to hold back as he chases his own release. And after he pumps your throat full of cum, you’re going to count yourself the luckiest bitch in the world as you slowly sink your dripping pussy down onto his fat cock. “Are you sure I’ll fit?” he whispers in a haze, watching your eyes roll back as he disappears inside of you inch by inch.

Note 2: Pussydrunk Kuroo or bust. Ok but now I’m thinking about how hilarious (read: horny & amazing) reader’s life would be if this was all in the same apartment complex and happening at the same time

[virtualreader]

silver blade

deanwinchesterxfem!reader

summary: reader heroically kills a shapeshifter to save Dean, but not without getting hurt in the process. When the blood covering the reader's hands, nearly triggers a panic attack, Dean is quick to comfort her.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: gore, not natural creatures (if u know, u know), anxiety, panic attack, blood, grotesque killing, wounds, emotional shock. could be read as romantic or platonic.

a/n: i live for hurt/comfort fics. also, i thrive on feedback, so don't think twice and send me some! constructive criticism is also welcomed!

"Dammit, Dean," you cursed under your breath as you tried calling Dean, only to be sent straight to voicemail once again. To say you were exasperated was an understatement. You couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that was starting to creep up on you. “Where the hell are you, guys?”

As little as a single missed call was enough to seed concern within you. One—they had probably walked into a crowded bar. Two—Dean had most likely found a chick worth flirting with. Nine in the span of two hours? Nine voicemail messages and no sign neither of the brothers were still alive? Now that was downright worrisome.

You slid the combination 11-02-83 into the lock, and it opened immediately with a subdued click. You had been with the Winchesters long enough to have figured out the access code to the weapons compartment. Nonetheless, you were still finding your feet in the supernatural world, not having ever seen any of the creatures you read about.

With one hand, you scrambled to lift the bottom of the trunk, gaining access to the secret compartment John had built in the '67 Impala Dean insisted on nicknaming baby.

If there was anything you had a grasp of, it was lore beyond doubt. Therefore, you sifted meticulously through the vast array of weapons until you finally laid your eyes on the one you had been seeking—a glistening silver knife, ornately engraved. Legend has it both silver bullets and silver-bladed weapons were lethal to shapeshifters, the very creature Sam and Dean were after.

As you became aware of your scarce fighting skills, you hesitated for a moment and second-guessed your brash decision to defy the blunt order to stay in the motel the Winchesters had given you. Instead of backing down and following said instructions, you headed towards the nearest sewer cleanout driven and determined, and trawled the cover aside with great effort.

With the silver knife in hand, you descended into the sewers, climbing down the rank, rusty ladder, diligently making it to the bottom. You jumped off onto the ground, which you found to be swamped with turbid water. Or at least that was what you hoped the muddy puddles soaking your feet up to the socks were.

The air was humid, and the sewer halls were silent except for the rhythmic dripping of leak drops splashing on the concrete. You took a deep, shaky breath, wondering how Sam and Dean managed to remain level-headed during hunts, especially given the unforeseen aftermath.

You were undoubtedly scared—terrified even. You bore in mind all the plausible deadly outcomes facing a creature as powerful as a shapeshifter entailed. Yet, not even that did withhold you from sacrificing your own safety for the sake of the two boys who had become your family over the past year.

You were willing to pay your weight in blood if it was their lives at stake. Without them by your side, life would only be reduced to a meaningless solitary existence. So you might as well devote yourself to wrestling them from the peril you sensed they were in.

You crept through the dark, dank sewers, your grip on the silver knife tightening with each step, refraining it from slipping from your moist trembling hands. You couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was watching you, lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce at any moment.

The stench was overwhelming, and you had to cover your nose with your free hand to avoid gagging. But you knew that giving up was not an option. You had come too far to turn back at this point.

You dropped your gaze to the concrete beneath your feet, scrutinizing the ground in search of any signs indicating Sam and Dean’s whereabouts.

One, two, three blood droplets stained the cement and left behind a vague trail. It was a somewhat chilling sight, and your thoughts immediately went to the possibility of the guys being wounded.

Barely a few feet before you laid a mucilaginous shred of skin. Next to it was a clump of dark hair, matted and tangled, still attached to its corresponding patch of torn skin. You shuddered at the realization that those gruesome remnants irrefutably belonged to the shapeshifter.

Faint grunts died out in the distance. It sounded human, and you recognized them as Dean’s. You tensed up, gripping the small bladed weapon steady in your hand.

With an adrenaline rush pumping through your veins, you crept towards the direction of the sound. The grunts grew louder, and you could now hear the pained sounds of Dean's voice as clear as day. Your heart leaped into your throat, and you picked up the pace, sprinting through the dark corridors.

You skidded to a stop as you came upon the scene. Eyes narrowed and brows raised, you did your utmost to wrap your head around the commotion you witnessed before you.

Sam laid sprawled on the floor, his mouth stuffed with a smudge rag. There was sweat and blood coating his face and clothes and his chest inflated and deflated frantically as he struggled against the plastic flange restraining his wrists.

Your attention then turned to Dean, who was pressed against the wall with his body tense with pain and fear. There was another loud thud, the broad creature gripping Dean's jacket collar tossed him onto the ground, the sound echoing throughout the sewer's hallways. Dean gasped in pain, and your heart sank even further at the sight of his helplessness.

“Y/n…get outta...here...” he spoke falteringly in a hushed tone when he registered your presence.

You followed his gaze, and your eyes locked with the shapeshifter's dusky ones. The creature’s features were practically indistinguishable under the dim light seeping through the storm drains, yet the illumination was sufficient for you to discern its current shape.

It was not human, you acknowledged that fact in its entirety. But it sure resembled a person, and not just any person. The shapeshifter, whose eyes were currently fixated on your unnerved shaky figure, had taken on Sam's form with such accuracy it left you utterly bewildered, propelling your mind into an insurmountable surge of confusion.

Its gaze was intense, almost otherworldly, and it seemed to be studying you with a cold detachment that sent shivers down your spine. The shapeshifter seemed to be waiting for your next move, but you froze, clueless as to how to act in the face of his defiant demeanor. And with each passing moment, the pressure mounted, threatening to engulf you in a tidal and paralyzing wave of haze and dread.

You felt compelled to pin your hopes on your self-reliance in order to beat the creature down. After mustering all your courage, you leaped to Dean’s defense. Without hesitation, you charged forward, brandishing the silver knife that you had retrieved from the Impala's weapons compartment.

The smug laugh of the shapeshifter only fueled your determination to protect the brothers at any cost. You saw red. With a swift motion, you plunged the blade into the shapeshifter's chest, slicing and carving it wide open out of fury, and it let out a bloodcurdling screech as it fell to the ground, lifeless.

What seemed blatant moments ago became now an incertitude, as you saw what appeared to be Sam's inanimate body on the concrete. Even if the real Sam drew breath a stone's throw away from you, growing ever more relieved as Dean aided in freeing him from the restraints, the thought of having killed the younger Winchester brother eclipsed your brain.

“I’d never peg you as the stabbing type,” joked Dean trying to alleviate the tension in the atmosphere as he helped Sam to get up, earning a sheepish 'thank you' from the younger brother. He then turned his attention to you. “Jeez, y/n, white paint has more color than your face.”

You took a step backward staring down to your hands, absolutely unable to hear what Dean was saying, let alone fathom it out. Blood was all you saw, blood drenching your hands from the very fingertips all the way up to your elbow.

When your only response to his jokes was silence, Dean began to realize that something was off. In a desperate attempt to get you to snap out of your distressed paralysis, he grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you slightly.

You looked at him, trying to discern his worried features through your foggy vision. You felt trapped inside your own mind, unable to break free from the suffocating weight of your thoughts.

"Everything's spinning, De," you muttered as you managed to loosen the knot that had formed in your throat. "Please, make it stop.”

"I promise you—your head is the only thing spinning right now," he said with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. "You did good, y/n/n. You saved my ass back there."

Your usually regular and calmed breathing pattern developed into a shallow, rapid one. You could feel your heart hammering at great speed in your chest, which caused the veins in your neck to throb and made you feel rather light-headed.

"Hey, hey, hey. I've got you. I've got you," Dean whispered, pulling you into a tight embrace not willing to let you fall when he saw you swaying, and losing balance. "Just listen to my heartbeat, okay?"

You hummed in response, utterly unable to voice your distress. You could hear and feel the wallop of his heart, forcefully rapid yet steady and calming, along with the resounding sounds of his voice inside his chest. You clung to him for dear life, feeling his strong arms around you as you kept a white-knuckled grip on his plain flannel.

"That's it. Just focus on that," he reassured you, rubbing his hand up and down your back, your breathing gradually returning to its even pattern. "You're safe now. It's over."

As soon as you were out of the sewer, Dean ushered you to the Impala opening the door for you to enter the back passenger seat. As much as he loved baby, getting her bloodstained was not a problem as long as he got you safe and comfy.

The ride lasted hardly ten minutes, although to your clouded senses it felt everlasting. You made a futile attempt to divert your attention from the dry blood coating your hands to the sparse traffic outside, before your mind was dragged into the abysmal hole of anguish that the earlier incident had dug into your psyche one more time.

Throughout the ride, Sam kept asking if you were okay every now and then, displaying a genuine concern for your well-being. He knew how traumatic the experience must have been for you and wanted to make sure you were coping. His kind words and comforting presence helped soothe your frazzled nerves, even if only slightly.

Truth was you were far from okay. You were grappling with a multitude of emotions that were threatening to consume you, and the weight of your thoughts felt suffocating.

Meanwhile, Dean would occasionally shoot glances your way through the rear-view mirror, silently checking on you to make sure you were holding up. Despite his tough exterior and being kind of rough around the edges, he was quick to show his caring and nurturing side when it came to you.

The car rolled down the highway, the engine humming softly as Dean expertly downshifted gears, slowly bringing the vehicle to a smooth stop in the motel's parking lot.

You stumbled out of the car, feeling dizzy and disoriented. Dean rushed to your side, supporting you with a hand on your back.

"Easy there, champ," he said, concern lacing his voice. "Let's get you cleaned up and patched up, yeah?"

You nodded weakly, grateful for his support. It was then that you noticed the large gash on your forearm, which must have been incurred during the prior wrestling. How could you have missed it before?

The keys clattered as Sam unlocked the door to your assigned room, pushing it open gently. The three of you entered the motel's bedroom, steps heavy as your energy was depleted.

While Sam tended to his own injuries, Dean took you to the bathroom, where he turned on the tap and began to gently wash away the blood that coated your hands and arms. The touch of his fingers was soothing, and you closed your eyes, letting out a sigh of relief as the water washed away the evidence of the shapeshifter's blood.

In spite of his sarcastic jokes, you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Dean was mad. And he had every right to be.

You looked up at him, feeling guilty for disobeying orders and putting yourself in danger. The instructions were clear—stay safe and focus on research. They had let you take charge of the investigation duty reluctantly, let alone get fully involved in the hunting business. But you found it impossible to resist the urge, you couldn’t stay in the motel doing nothing knowing they could be in trouble.

Notwithstanding the potential fallout, Dean didn't scold you. Instead, he patiently led you to the toilet, he retrieved the newly restocked first aid kit and gently placed it on the countertop.

“I'm sorry,” you said in a whisper. "You weren't answering my calls. I got worried sick. I'm sorry."

Dean leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"No need to be, sweetheart," he said softly, tossing his resentment for your disobedient behaviour to the back of his mind. "As much as I hate to admit this, you did what had to be done. You saved us back there."

He proceeded to tend to your wound, his touch light and careful as he cleaned and bandaged the gash on your forearm. You couldn't help but feel grateful for his presence, for his unwavering support and understanding.

As he finished up, he looked up at you with a small empathetic smile.

"You wanna crash in my room tonight?" he asked. "I promise to keep the nightmares away."

You nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

The knowledge that he was there with you, ready to support you through thick and thin, was a comforting thought. With Dean by your side, you knew you could get through anything.

[apollyonsdarksecrets]

Alpha!Billy Hargrove X Omega!AFAB!Reader

Summary: It was hard to pretend that everything could just go back to normal once your best friend present as an Alpha and you knew you were doomed to become a Beta. But can one night change it all?

Warnings: SMUT MDNI 18 + Only. Language, talk of eating, bad mother figure, smoking depicted, friends to lovers, slight angst, crying, kissing. Omegaverse themes including: scent, heats, ruts, knotting, breeding, mating

A/N: I have never written anything like this before but I love to read Omegaverse (guilty pleasure) please don’t hate me but constructive criticism is always welcome. 🧡💜

Stranger Things Master list

*~*~*~*~*~*

Something about today as you woke up just felt wrong. The sun lit the room through your window, bathing everything in its golden rays. You blink wearily against the light, pulling your baby blue comforter around your shoulders, something deep in your gut is begging to stay, to avoid the day like it and everyone in it didn’t exist; but the yelling from down stairs won’t allow it. So with no other choice you throw the covers to the foot of your bed and shuffle to your closet.

“Well about damn time.” You amble into the kitchen, meet not only with the sour look on your mother’s face but the almost permanent ring of smoke circling her head. Ignoring her you head straight for the fridge. The hinges creak, the small bulb illuminating the nearly empty shelves as you snatch up the brown paper bag.

“Listen, Jerry is taking me out later so I’m not gonna be home, fend for yourself. ” Her scratchy voice irritates you further, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Who? Jerry? Have I met him?

“Okay.” You glance at her briefly, bright pink curlers standing out amongst her greying hair, her attention fixed on the newspaper and Virginia Slims in her hand. The hard lines around her lips have turned her face into a scowl, and you briefly wonder when the last time you saw her smile was.

A horn blares outside in a short pattern, giving you your cue to leave. You force yourself to hurry to the door flinging your pack over your shoulder and shoving your feet into your shoes.

The late summer sun has already started baking the little town, the dew on the grass chilling your ankles as you make your way to the blue Camaro. Music rattles the windows as the driver drums to the beat on the steering wheel. You can faintly make out his head bobbing, blond curls swaying with the movement.

You pull the door open and flop in ungraciously, letting your head fall back against the leather seat with a groan. “Well good morning to you too, sunshine.” Billy laughs from beside you as he starts to reverse out of your drive way, an unlit cigarette hanging from between his lips.

“Nothin’ good about it.” You mumble, only loud enough for him to hear over his music.

He glances at you fully, focusing on the bags under your eyes, how your skin is slightly paler than usual. You’re dressed simply in an old black shirt with your favorite jeans, the jeans you almost always wear because you’ve ‘broken them in just right’.

“You feeling okay?” Billy flicks off his music as he peels off down the backroad towards school, the long way.

You let your head lull to the side, managing a small smirk at the fact that you two had unknowingly coordinated your outfits, yet again. Though he fills his shirt out more, the arms tight on his biceps just how he likes, the bottom tucked into his jeans military style. “I don’t know. I just feel… weird.” You make a face, focusing back on the road watching the green trees zip by. The leaves are starting to brown, a result of being at the highest point of summer.

Billy pulls his own face, propping his elbow on the door, he pulls the cigarette from his mouth, twirling it between his fingers. “Weird how? Like sick weird, throw up weird, period weird-.”

You groan again cutting him off, rubbing a hand over your eyes. “Just weird. I just want to go back to bed.”

“Wanna play hooky?” It’s a genuine question and you like the idea of it, a lot, but you shake your head.

“No. It’s the day before break and if they find out you’re skipping again you’ll get a detention.” Billy rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue because he knows you’re right.

The rest of the ride is comfortably silent, letting you doze off for a few more precious moments before the engine dying startles you awake. You sit up straighter, running your fingers through your hair as you glance around, suddenly catching Billy’s unwavering stare.

“What’s that smell?”

A look of horror crosses your features, suddenly grabbing your shirt to bring to your nose. “What smell? I smell?”

“No, no, no. like… did you get a new perfume?” You shake your head slowly, watching him try to piece together in his head what it could be. “It smells good, like really good.” But he can’t put his finger on what exactly it is, so he leans closer, sniffing the air around you.

“God you’re weird.” You laugh, smushing his face with your palm as you push him away. You grab your bag as he mutters under his breath, reaching behind the seat for his own. You both step out onto the gravel parking lot, other student milling about making their way towards either the high school or the middle school next door. You start to walk off, expecting Billy to follow only to have your arm tugged back, stopping you in your tracks.

“Hey, wait.” Billy looms over you slightly, making you crane your neck to keep eye contact. You still weren’t entirely use to that new aspect. “Why don’t you come over tonight? We really haven’t hung out outside of school since…” He trails off, looking at you hopefully and you feel your muscles tighten, prepared to give an excuse.

It’s been months since Billy presented as an Alpha, months since everything between the two of you had suddenly shifted. On top of the ego and hot attitude he already possessed, people suddenly expected more of him, respected him like they hadn’t before. An Alpha in a town run by Betas.

Coming from a family of all Betas, watching your best friend become suddenly so… important made your insides tent with green jealousy. As happy as you wanted to be for him you felt yourself pull away, not wanting to stand in his shadow.

“I don’t-.”

“Look, it’s still me, Y/n. It’s still just Billy. We can grab dinner, watch movies, I’ll even do those stupid mud masks if you want just… just come over.” Please. Billy was never one to beg, but for you he made an exception. He had a soft side he kept behind mean words and cruel actions, and only you were privy to it.

Sighing you glance at the ground, analyzing the different sized rocks and tuffs of grass that managed to grow between them. The yellow dandelions turning their faces to the sky. “Okay… I’ll think about it.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

By lunch time you’ve progressively gotten worse, your body on autopilot as you move at a snails pace from class to class. Even most of your teachers have noticed, their honor student with her tired eyes, deciding to keep their questions for the rest of the class as you struggle to keep up. Currently you sit slumped over your food, your head in your hands, eyes closed and focusing on your breathing.

In your head you’re over thinking everything it could be, from the mild to the extreme. The flu to an aneurism, a common cold to a heart attack. Your paranoia latching on and prying deep. It’s only when you feel a presence creep up on you, no his presence, does something in your chest relax, letting your body shake off the unease.

“Hey, dolly.” Billy’s voice is warm and heavy when he drops into the seat beside yours, throwing an arm around your shoulders and dragging you into his side. The smell of his cologne is almost overwhelming, and it’s different, not the usual one he wears or the one you gifted him for his birthday. Pine, and leaves, and rain but something underneath that is entirely him.

“Hey.” You lean into his touch, your muscles relaxing and a soft sigh slipping past your lips. You don’t bother opening your eyes, just pressing your cheek into his chest, breathing him in.

Billy watches you, the soft lines in your face, the curve of your lips. Something in his brain demands to protect, the impulse so raw that it takes him by surprise. He tightens his grip on you, little to your notice.

“Still not feeling good?” You only shake your head in response. “Still thinking about coming over later?”

Yes.

It’s all you have been able to think about. It wasn’t like you had never spent the night with Billy before, either at his place or your own. That wasn’t what was bothering you.

You’d just never been alone with an Alpha. You’ve only meet three in Hawkins, the chief being one of them, and the other two married and mated. You’d heard the rumors that young Alphas were far more aggressive, unable to restrain themselves if their instincts took over, it was preached in every health class.

But what if he’s right? What if you’re just over reacting?

“Yeah, I’ll come over… but only if we go to Bennys tonight.”

Billy chuckles, and it’s a deep noise against your ear. “You drive a hard bargain.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Billy had made good on his promise.

He took you straight from school to the Family Video in town, letting you pick out whatever you wanted with the promise that it wasn’t going to be sad.

Then it was on to the little five and dine, Bennys, the one that has your favorite pancakes and fruit salad. He blared the mix tape you had made months ago, despite your groaning, feeling accomplished when he caught you nodding along.

The house is empty and dark, Billy explaining that Neil had taken Max and Susan off somewhere for the week, as the two of you bring in everything from the car. He flicks on the lights as you drop onto the couch, rubbing your clammy palms against the front of your jeans.

Billy hums softly as he walks around the small living room, setting down the movies and food on the low coffee table. He glances over at you, your face pinched, lip caught between your teeth, and leg bouncing a mile a minute.

“Dolly.” Your eyes snap to his, a little wide at the curt clip of his tone. Billy stops in front of you, holding out his hand, watching as you shakily take it, pulling yourself to your feet.

“I think I should go home, really I just feel-.”

“Weird. I know.” He ducks his head slightly, searching your face with sympathetic eyes, “But we’re gonna get it figured out. I want you to go grab a shirt from my closet, get on something comfortable and come back in here.”

His expression leaves no room for argument, so you do as you’re told. His room is lit only by the small desk lamp, but you know you could find your way around in total darkness. Billy always leaves your favorite shirt in the same place in the closet, the stained grey one that reaches the middle of your thighs and hangs loosely about your frame. Leaving your jeans and shoes pooled by the foot of his bed, you steal a look at yourself in his mirror and cringe. You look as tired as you feel, shoulders slumped, ghostly complexion like you’d never seen the sun before.

You turn away with a disgruntled grunt. When you come back out the living room is dark again, the tv and kitchen light your only guide as you pad across the burnt orange carpet. You step around the couch, avoiding the gym equipment laying against the wall so as to not stub your toes like you are prone to do when you are over.

Billy’s dumped fresh popcorn into a giant blue bowl, a snack he knows you can never resist, as he meets you in the arch way. He smiles down at you as he passes the dish over and turns you back towards the couch. Throw blankets are pulled out over the cushions and the tape is already playing through the advertisements. Your meals are set up on your respective ends of the table and you feel something in your heart tighten painfully.

“See, just like old times.”

And he was right.

The night crept away filled with laughter, food, and cheesy horror movies that had you groaning more than trembling. Half way through the first one you’re both complaining about the terrible quality and laughing at the others jokes. Half way through the second you’re throwing popcorn into the air to see who can catch the most while gossiping about the latest ‘Small Town Scandal’.

By the end of the third you’re curled into Billy’s side, his long legs stretched out in front of him as you struggle to keep your eyes open. He’s warm with his arm tucked around your shoulders, and his heart beat is steady against your ear. It lulls you in and out of sleep as the credits begin to roll.

“Billy…” You whisper, poking him in the side with your finger.

“Hmm?”

“Movie’s over.”

He groans and starts to sit up, helping you with a hand on your back. “Next time I pick the movies.” You both sluggishly move to his room, crawling under the grey covers of his full sized bed.

“Told you.” He mumbles, sleep making his voice deep and gravelly. “Right as rain.” You only give a small grunt though a smile pulls at your lips as you nestle under the covers, surrendering easily to the peaceful sleep that over comes you.

For a few hours at least.

*~*~*~*~*~*

You don’t know exactly how you ended up here, but here you are, curled in on yourself on the cold tile of Billy’s ugly green bathroom going into heat.

A heat you aren’t supposed to be having.

Tears steadily stream over your pink painted cheeks as you hug the side of the bathtub, another burning cramp sending a rush of pain through every nerve in your body.

It’s as if someone has doused you gasoline and struck a match. Your body burns from the inside out with an intensity you’d never felt before, the cramps in your lower stomach hurling you into the fetal position as the continue to seize your body. But above it all was the ache between your thighs. Your sex pulsed and squeezed, fogging your thoughts through the waves of arousal soaking your panties and dripping down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

Why is there so much?

You desperately try to think about anything you’ve learned over the years about Omegas and their heats, but all you can focus on is the ache in your body. What good are you as a straight A student if you can’t remember a simple health class?

You groan, pitchy and breathless, trying to muffle the noise by biting into your lip. Subconsciously, you’re praying that something, anything, anyone, would save you from this hell as you sob harder, another cramp slicing through your abdomen.

“Y/n?” Billy’s voice floats through the wooden door and you freeze, even the tremors in your muscles stop momentarily. You don’t dare make a sound, don’t even breath as you wait, hoping it’s your imagination until the white door rattles under his knuckles. “Sweetheart? I’m coming in…”

Your head snaps up, eyes landing on the unlocked brass handle and you nearly slip on the small rug in your efforts to get up. A fresh wave of pain seizes your body with a whine as the door swings open.

The low amber light illuminates him against the dark hallway, his curly hair tussled from sleep, pressed down on one side. He’s only wearing those annoyingly short gym shorts, his bronze skin and large frame on display. His chest is rising and falling quickly, like he’d just ran miles to get here.

Billy had woken to that same scent from earlier pelting his senses, stronger, and all fully feminine. Lavender and vanilla and lilac but earthy and natural and purely his. It covered his sheets and comforter and filled his room. He followed it straight to the bathroom, his wolf guiding him more than himself and now he’s entranced, bewitched even as he stares down at you.

Your cheeks are wet, hair teased like you’d been pulling on it. The shirt you are wearing is soaked with cold sweat, and he can smell your slick, making his mouth water.

A deep rumbling growl escapes from his chest before he can even register it’s happening, pulling a submissive whimper from you as you drop onto the edge of the tub, staring wide eyed like a lost puppy. He takes a step closer and you flinch involuntarily, embarrassed and horrified this was all happening right here, right in front of him as your wrap your arms around your center.

“I… I need to go home, Billy.” Your voice is uneven and octaves higher, your chest constricting with each painful breath as your watery eyes drop away from his smoldering gaze. Billy couches down in front of you on the shaggy bath mat, wrapping a large palm around the back of your calf. He gives the tense muscle a firm squeeze, trying to ground you in anyway he can as you whimper and squirm, his presence worsening the pain.

This is what Alphas do to Omegas, unknowingly spur this heat into overdrive.

Billy takes a steadying breath, licking his lips, and searches your tear streaked face. “You’re in heat, little Omega…” It’s like his words amplify everything by ten and your suddenly teetering on the edge of the tub, your hands flying out for support as a wave of pain makes you cry out.

Your palms land on his chest as you finally drag your gaze to his, his blue irises hooded with that animalistic need, mirroring your own. “I don’t… understand… why?” You pant, his scent intoxicating making you lean in, unable to get enough.

Billy only shakes his head, pressing in closer, spreading your knees around his waist as his hand travels up to your thigh. “You’re presenting, it’s going to be okay.” Billy’s other hand finds your hip, and it takes every last bit of concentration you have to focus on him as your sex pulses with need, demanding attention.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do… it hurts so bad…” Your voice breaks, shaking harshly as your hands slip up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer without a thought because he feels so good, so right against your skin as his width presses your thighs farther apart. Billy doesn’t stop you either, his eyes fluttering at the feeling of your fingers tangling into the hair at the back of his neck. Your scent is over powering at this proximity, his grip tightening on your body to control himself.

He coos lightly, his eyes dropping to your lips, specifically your plump lower one now darkening as a bruise forms in the shape of your teeth. “I know baby, I’m here, I’m going to help you.”

“How?” You croak, the uncertainty in your voice stabbing Billy in the chest.

“You trust me right?” He drops his voice to a whisper, his body flush with your own, hands slowly skimming up your body to rest against your neck. You swallow thickly, before nodding. Billy leans forward, closing off that last little bit of distance with a testing kiss.

Need shoots through you, stronger that ever and you respond hungrily. Your arms slip fully around his neck, sliding off of the tub with a desperate moan. Instinct takes over, your submissiveness showing as you open yourself to him, Billy’s tongue licking into your mouth as the kiss turns more wild.

Billy stands, holding you easily with two large hands cupping your ass, as he turns heading for the door. Your legs wrap around his waist, humming into the kiss as he bumps into a wall, his steps uneven as he makes his way into his bedroom.

You gasp for breath as he lowers you both onto the bed, his weight warm and welcoming. “Pretty Omega, my sweet girl.” His lips tickle your ear as he leans in, his hands fisting the blankets by your head as he starts to leave the bed. You whine loudly, your legs locking around his hips forcefully. Billy chuckles, a deep sound that makes your back bow up. “Gotta let go, let me up honey.”

“Please…” You beg, “Don’t leave me, Alpha.” It is the first time you have ever used his new title, his pounding heart going into double time. He shifts his weight, cupping your face with one hand, as your squirm. You desperately try to rut your hips against his, the feeling of having him so close but not close enough making your chest constrict and your head spin.

Somewhere in the back of your lust addled brain you knows you should be embarrassed, your desperation turning you into someone you’re not. But the new beast prowling under your skin refuses to let that happen. She knows just what she wants and will have it.

“I’m right here baby, but you’ve got to let me help you. You can do that, can’t you?” Billy’s words are laced with a calming purr, thumb swiping carefully over your lips, catching on the bottom one and pulling it down slightly. Only when you nod, your limbs relaxing around him, does he let it go with a soft plop. “Good girl.”

He doesn’t bother with formalities, instead gripping the collar of the old t-shirt in both hands and tugging. He rips the worn material down the center, making you yelp in surprise. He’s more forgiving with your panties, fingers dipping below the elastic as he tugs them down your legs. The pale purple cotton is drenched with your slick, turning the color a dark shade that makes him moan at the sight. Billy tosses them over his shoulder carelessly, fixing his attention on your trembling body laid out before him.

“You’re so wet, just fucking drenched.” You jump and moan as he swipes a finger through your puffy lips, watching as your cunt squeezes around air. He wasn’t lying when he said you were drenched, your slick glistening off of your thighs, slipping down the curve of your ass to his bedsheets. The sight alone is enough to have him throbbing painfully in the confines of his shorts.

He can’t help himself as he starts to play with your pussy, barely dipping his long fingers between your lips before dragging them up to your clit. He circles the bud slowly, watching in awe as you respond so eagerly, head thrown back loud moans filling the space around you. You cry an abundance of pleas, his name mixed with any other words you can manage to string together. Your hips rock to take his fingers deeper each time he circles your opening, face scrunched with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

Finally pulling himself away from your body, Billy nearly shreds his shorts in his haste to get rid of them. His cock springs free with a groan, his eyes squeezing shut momentarily as his head drops back. It’s pulsing and uncomfortably hard, beads of milky precum roll down his thick shaft, catching in the corse blond hair at the base.

“Look at me, Omega.” His demand washes over you, compelling you the only way and Alpha can, to do as your told. You lift your head, dazed eyes settling on his handsome face. His kiss swollen lips are parted slightly, eyes wild with need as his gaze consumes you. You never felt more exposed and yet safe at the same time.

Then your eyes flicker lower.

You let loss a wavering moan, fingers curling into the covers as you openly stare. Billy smiles, enjoying the way you follow his hand as he wraps it around himself, pumping his shaft slowly. He’s big, bigger than you would of imagined him to be. His fingers barely wrapping around his girth and if you want to be honest with yourself it’s intimidating.

“Billy… I’ve never…” He climbs onto the bed between your thighs, rough hands slipping down your skin, squeezing the supple fat under his fingertips.

“It’s okay, let me take care of you.” Billy leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, distracting kiss. Your eyes fall shut, arms slipping around his shoulders as he slowly aligned himself with your entrance. He presses forward and you gasp against his lips. The thick mushroom head squeezes in with a soft pop, breaching your walls and already making you feel so full and empty all at once.

Billy’s hand makes it’s way down to your thigh, lifting your leg and spreading you open as he drives his hips forward. He moans loudly, pressing his forehead against yours as he stills, a little under halfway inside you. “Takin’ me-fuck- you’re takin’ me so well.”

Your nails are digging into his skin, leaving big red lines in their wake as you try to hold onto something. You’d feel bad under normal circumstances if it didn’t seem like he was enjoying it so much. Billy’s lips find your neck, nuzzling the underside of your jaw, and trailing down to your shoulder. He’s breathing you in between sloppy kisses, your scent somehow sweeter than before.

“Please… please Billy.” Your leg hooks around his hips to encourage him to move and with one finally thrust he bottoms out into your spasming cunt. Your head presses back into the mattress, a low moan rattling out of your chest as the feeling of it all washes over you. You’re stuffed full, his weight bearing down on you, but for the first time in hours you feel a sense of calm settle into your bones. You were made for him, made just for this.

Billy lifts his head, your eyes catching in the dim light, and he gives you a lopsided smile. He pulls nearly completely out before filling you up again. You cry out his name, voice cracking on the syllables.

“That’s right baby, just like that.” Your walls flutter around his cock, his thrusts evening out as he finds his pace. Your hips rock to meet his, soft noises falling from your lips to accompany the harsh moans leaving him. The head of his cock is kissing your cervix, bringing in an entirely different kind of pain with the pleasure.

“Alpha… please… gonna cum!” Your fingers find his hair, tugging harshly as your body shakes harder. Billy slips his hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles against your throbbing clit. You scream as your orgasm washes over your body so quickly it leaves you dizzy, your release gushing and coating his cock.

“Fuuuuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut, teeth bared as he fucks you through it. Your cunt trying to milk his own from him as he picks up his pace. You sob loudly, tears rolling down your temples as your hands slip to his sides, urging him not to stop.

“Please… Alpha… I uhh-.”

He slams into you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “You’re so pretty on my cock, I just want to keep you here. Fuck your like this for the rest of my life.” His hand skims up to your abdomen, he presses down ever so slightly and you gasp, hips bucking at the sudden pressure. “This pussy was made just for that wasn’t it? Made just for me.”

Billy pulls out at a maddeningly slow drag, your cunt fighting to keep him in as he rubs along every right spot, making pleasure bloom at the base of your spine and radiate outwards. Only the tip of his cock rests between your folds, anticipation and excitement humming adding to the trembling of your limbs.

“Tell me baby.” Billy mumbles, cupping the back of your neck, squeezing and lifting you up from the mattress slightly. Your eyes lazily slide open, a languid smile spreading across your face that makes him falter. His heart suddenly beats impossibly faster, all of his thoughts flying from his brain except one.

This girl is mine.

“S-so good, ba-baby… d-don’t stop.” You stutter out between chattering teeth, hips rocking up taking him a few centimeters deeper.

Billy growls lowly pushing in all the way before pulling back out, he falls forward, bending you nearly in half as he cages you in. His mouth finds yours, sloppy and clashing teeth as his hips piston against yours, driving himself impossibly deeper as you cry and moan for him.

“You feel so fucking good,” He pants, lips skimming along your cheek, past your slack jaw and to your throat, nuzzling the delicate area where he can see your pulse pounding. “Always knew you’d feel this good.”

“B-Billy… Billy I’m gonna…” With each thrust your orgasm draws closer, pushing you to the limits of your pleasure, head tossed back and toes curling as you cling to him. Your cunt squeezes around him, pulsing rhythmically, letting him know you’re close.

“I’m gonna come Y/n, I’m gonna fuck you full of me and you’re going to take it all, are you? Gonna let me breed you, baby?” Billy isn’t graced with a reply, instead your body draws taught against his as you scream his name. Your orgasm rushes over you, washing any sense from your brain as your hips buck against his, and it’s his undoing.

Billy bottoms out, rope after rope of thick cum spilling into your spasming pussy, his knot swelling and locking you in place as he ruts into you. You can feel each pulse, and twitch, his spend filling you and sedating that insatiable need for the time being. Your body relaxes into his, that smile never leaving your lips.

“My Omega.” He whispers against your skin, teeth dragging and scratching your skin as he fights himself, his wolf demanding to lay its claim. “I need you.” He breaths, sinking his teeth into your flesh.

*~*~*~*~*~*

By the time morning seeps in through the blinds, neither of you have slept. Currently your laid out on his chest, the sheet draped over your backside as his seed fills your cunt. Billy’s hand is imbedded in your hair, the other on your hip, gripping you to him as he moans into the air.

It takes several minutes, and by the time his grip slackens there’s a small bulge in your abdomen. You’re blinking lazily, the haze of the night slowly clearing itself from your mind. “Billy?”

“Yes, baby?” His heart beat is evening out, the rhythmic thump seeping into your body.

You swallow, lifting your head and resting your chin on his chest. His eyes are closed, head tilted back relaxed against the pillows. His palm rubs up and down your side, gentle and calm.

Sometime during the night, between lust filled spurts of need, you had felt the mark. Your fingers had traced over the raised indents his teeth had left, several times. The realization that you were mated to your best friend hitting you like a crushing pile of bricks, and yet…

“We’re mated.” You whisper, feeling his chest stutter slightly. He clears his throat, the hand in your hair twitching slightly.

“I should of asked you. I’m sorry.” His voice holds a note of something you can’t place, his eyes are still closed, refusing to look at you. You sit up slowly, his knot still firmly in place, moaning a little at the feeling. That grabs his attention. Billy’s gaze snags on your face, where he finds your softly smile and gentle eyes.

“There are worse people to be mated with, I suppose.” Billy smiles, his hands resting on your hips, his grip firm and comforting.

“Definitely, could of been Danny.” You shudder at the thought of Billy’s little minion of a friend and he laughs loudly. “Come’er.” You happily oblige, kissing him slowly, pouring yourself into him as he does the same. Everything falling into the perfect rhythm.

There are definitely worse ways to find your forever.

[oleander-nin]

Horrortober Day 12- Stalker(Yandere Rise Donnie x Reader)

A/N, not important: Sorry it's short. I just... Couldn't. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: stalking, recording without permission, planned drugging, planned kidnapping, dark themes, yandere themes

Words: 718

Summary: It's time to take you home

Donnie's gaze flits over the many screens, a deep scowl on his face. He couldn't believe you were up this late again, despite his advice earlier. You promised you'd get sleep. He had the texts open, looking at them before looking back at you across the cameras he had planted in your room so long ago. You were up again, a pencil in your hand with the other knotted in your hair and homework on your desk. Why hadn’t you come to him if it was giving you this much trouble? He would have done it for you in mere moments. It was an insult to him to not let him help.

Donnie’s frown deepens as he leans back in his chair, trying to decide how to move forward. You clearly needed his support, needed a guiding hand to set you straight. He was completely willing to do that for you, to set you a schedule and hold you to it. He would do anything for you. Gosh, he would love to do everything for you.

He continues to watch the screen, analyzing every movement and burning it into his retinas. He could take you home. Your area in his lab was set up, the blankets and pillows in the corner to your liking. He knew this because it was an exact replica of the ‘nest’ you had in childhood, thanks to the pictures Donnie salvaged off of your old phone. He had gotten everything perfect for you. A cabinet in the kitchen was full of your favorite snacks, the fridge stocked with food that could be turned to meals of your taste, and Donnie’s own room was set to match the temperature of yours. Everything was ready, all he needed now was you.

Donnie wasn’t sure why he had held out for so long. Maybe it was because you seemed so happy the other day when he texted you, or when you hugged him for a few seconds longer than normal after he gave you your new phone. He knew the adjustment to your new life with him would be difficult, and he wasn’t fully ready to give up seeing you smile so brightly at him just yet.

But seeing you in your room, textbook open at three in the morning with tears in your eyes? It broke his heart in two. You’d never need to study like that again once he took you. Your life would be one of comfort and love. He’d dedicate every hour to you, making sure you were as happy as you could be. Sure, you wouldn’t have your freedom anymore. He couldn’t risk you going outside and getting hurt after all, but that is all a necessary sacrifice. You were too precious to be cast into the world, to hold a job and be harassed by life itself. You were something to be treasured, something to be spoiled and kept safe. He didn’t care he would be keeping you in a box that you would never leave, as long as you were safe and by his side.

He would die without you. He would wither up and collapse, his own heart breaking. Donnie knew he was being dramatic, but he felt his metaphor to be true. Without you, he would be nothing, just as you were nothing without him. Donnie looks back at the screen, watching your head loll forwards as you fight the sleep your body and mind so desperately needed. From the angle of the camera, he could just slightly see the bags under your eyes. They had grown since you last saw him, and his heart panged with worry. That wasn’t good.

Donnie scowls, standing up and leaving his desk for a moment. He crosses his lab and enters the room, searching his drawers for the small pill bottle of Ambien he kept in them. He needed to be prepared for when you arrived, just in case you were awake and still struggling. He counts the necessary pills for your weight and sets them on the desk, prepared to force you to take them if needed. Once the small gift he had for you was set up, Donnie returns to the heart of his lab, grabbing his tech bō and spider-shell.

It was time to bring you home.

[suugarbabe]

[chapter 6]

Warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of parental death, mentions of physical abuse with description, SMUT, 18+ content MDNI!!

Word count: 5.5k

An: sorry this chapter took so long to come out. There’s probably going to be a week between each chapter moving forward. Feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome. Also no Enzo this chapter sozz:(

Crawling on the floor you tried to gasp for breath only to start choking on the blood that kept filling your mouth from the split in your lip. You saw your wand in the corner of the room, trying to quicken your pace only to be flipped to your back by a heel kicked into your ribs, the little wind you had left knocked out of you.

You peered up at the looming figure above you. The smirk on Damiano’s face showing he was not anywhere near done with torturing you. “Godric you’re so bloody pathetic, Sunshine. I don’t know why I give you so many chances when all you do is disappoint and betray me. I really should just put you out of your misery shouldn’t I?”

He pointed his wand directly towards you. Your breaths were shallow, a sheen of sweat covering your skin from fighting and trying to defend yourself. You outstretched your hand toward the corner, Damiano’s gaze flicking towards where your vision strayed from him. “Oh sunshine, there’s no use, it’s out of reach. I’ve won.”

You mustered the deepest breath you could, mumbling a faint ‘accio Acacia wand’. Damiano went to laugh at your efforts until your wand started vibrating against the ground before shooting straight into your open palm. His eyes widened as you pointed your wand towards his feet, a small mumbled “bombarda” leaving your lips and causing him to launch into the air and into the wall behind him.

Damiano fell to the ground, body limp and seemingly knocked out, dead if you were lucky. You crawled to your feet. Doing your best to get out of the house as quickly as possible with the injuries you’d sustained. You tried to run, tried to get as far away as possible when you heard him calling your name. You tried to hide but he was faster it seemed, you couldn’t see him but you felt his grasp on your shoulders, shaking you, calling your name over and over.

“Uccellina! Wake up, love!” Your eyes shot open, grabbing hold of the person in front of you as your chest rose and fell, trying to slow down your pulse and gain your normal rhythm of breath back. “Gesù Christo, are you okay? You’re fucking drenched in sweat, c’mere.” You were pulled against his chest and immediately you held on, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. But the scent was not Mattheo’s, it was cigarette smoke and…patchouli?

You pulled back immediately, looking into the eyes of a raging ocean of concern. “Theo..?” His name came out as a question, you were genuinely confused by his presence, “W-what are you doing here?” Theo looked behind himself sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck, “I was told to, erm, keep an eye on you.” Following his gaze you saw a blanket on the floor next to the sitting chair in the corner.

Realization of what Theo was implying hit you & you shoved his chest harshly before scooting back toward your headboard, hugging your knees to your chest. “You were fucking watching me sleep?” Theo reached a hand out to you but decided to immediately retract it, letting out a long sigh. “Technically, no. I was also sleeping. But Mattheo told me you get nightmares and that it’d probably be better if I slept in here.”

“And where is Mattheo? If he’s so concerned why is he not the one ‘watching’ me?” Your mind was reeling, trying to understand each bit of information you were consuming. Theo stood up now, reaching his arms above his head to stretch, his voice straining slightly as he spoke, “Gone for a few days, gave me strict instructions to watch you and keep you out of trouble, so,” his mouth upturned to the most shit eating grin, “we’re attached at the hip until boss man comes back.”

You groaned, flopping down on your side and covering your head with your pillow. Theo only laughed at your reaction, “C’mon, uncellina, time to get up anyway. Gimball’s made us a fruit breakfast, thought we could eat by the garden.” You sat up on your elbows then, giving him a curious look, “Taking me on a breakfast date, Teddy?” Theo scrunched his nose up at the nickname you gave him, shaking his head, “Merlin, no. Mattheo would have my head if he thought I would even look at you with more intention than protection.”

Sitting up fully, you slid off your bed with a huff, “I’m getting tired of people acting like Mattheo has some sort of shield over me that no one else is allowed to penetrate.” You walked toward your closet, rummaging through your clothes. Theo made a noise behind you that sounded like a mix between a laugh and a grunt. You turned to him, slipping on a jumper as you walked towards your dresser drawers, “Something to say, Teddy?” Theo shoved his hands in his pockets, “If you can’t see it, love, I’m not enlightening you.” You held up your middle finger as you grabbed a pair of leggings from your drawer, Theo leaving the room so you could finish getting changed in peace.

The sound of your boots echoed off the marble floor as you walked through the foyer towards the back of the house. You stood, looking out the back sliding windows, taking in the vastness of the manor. “Ready?” Theo’s voice caused you to nearly jump from your skin, turning around and slapping his shoulder, “Fanculo! Do not sneak up on me, Theordore!” Theo wore a rather amused smirk, “Pali italiano?” (You speak italian?) You crossed your arms, mirroring his facial expression, “Sì, un po’. (Yes, a little) Impressed?”

Theo opened the door, motioning for you to lead the way to the garden, “I am actually, where did you learn?” You and Theo fell in step easily and you both made the walk along the path, “Ehm, my mother. She grew up in Rome, met my father in school. Then they moved to London afterwards, had me.” You shrugged your shoulders like it was any other information being shared. “What’re they up to now?” Theo asked curiously. You stiffened slightly, approaching the table by the garden and sitting quickly, “They, erm, died…in the war.”

You glanced down at your plate, a gorgeous array of colorful fruits that Gimball arranged along with flutes of what looked like orange juice with a pitcher between them. “I…I’m sorry, uncellina, I didn’t mean-” You shook your head, cutting him off, “S’okay, Teddy.” You looked up, meeting his eyes. He was chewing on his lower lip, looking like he was holding back words, “Don’t fret, Tesoro. It’s over, done and forgotten. S’not even my biggest trauma,” you let out a small laugh, trying to make light, but you caught Theo looking at you still, now adorning pity eyes.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Theo was doing his best to sound comforting, which you could tell was foreign to him. You smiled softly, shaking your head, “We’re not quite there yet, maybe nearer the end of your babysitting duties, hmm?” Theo nodded, chucking softly and smiling along with you. You picked up a flute of juice, spinning it slowly in your fingertips and holding it up to the sun, “Do you think Gimball was kind enough to make these in to mimosas for us?”

The two of you spend the next three mornings like that, having breakfast at the garden. You were slowly breaking down Theo’s walls with each conversation, allowing yourself to grow fond and build a bond with him. You learned of how awful his father was, a devoted follower of the Dark Lord to the point of nearly ignoring Theo’s existence if it wasn’t beneficial for him. You learned that Theo’s mother passed when he was young, early on in his Hogwarts years, but that Theo’s knowledge of plants and gardens came from her as she used to show him how things that looked so small and un-intimidating could be so powerful and useful.

Theo learned how your father taught you potions work and that your mother was a healer, which made sense to him after what you did to save Enzo. Theo found that you were actually quite funny, very witty, and probably too smart for your own good. He would joke that ‘you could be the boss instead of Mattheo’. You laughed, assuring him that you did not want the responsibility and you were glad to be whatever it was you were to them, of which you admitted you weren’t quite sure.

When you said that on the third morning, Theo couldn’t help but look at you endearingly, “Do you really not see your purpose here yet, uncellina?” You cheeks flushed red as you avoided eye contact, shaking your head. Theo clicked his tongue at you, a small smile forming on his lips, “Darling…you are the glue. You keep us together, never let us get too big of heads, certainly reminding us when we do.” This earned a small smile from you and Theo continued, “There’s been something missing from our dynamic as a family for a while. I won’t lie, when you first showed up I was skeptical.”

“I could tell,” you huffed a small laugh. Theo continued, “I know, I know, I wasn’t the kindest. But I’m protective. Hex me over it,” he shrugged his shoulders, “but you came and it’s like whatever we were missing was fulfilled with you.”

You were smiling, but your eyes were brimming with tears, “How can I be the glue when I’m still so broken inside, Teddy?” Theo got up from his chair, sitting down on the bench beside you. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling your head to his chest, “Darling, we’re all a little broken inside, that’s why we're a family. A bunch of misfit witches and wizards, yeah?” He held you back by your shoulders, giving you the goofiest grin. You choked out a small laugh, wiping your face with the back of your hand.

“There she is, there’s our little badass, can’t let Malfoy see you cry now, he’ll never let you hear the end of it.” You couldn’t stop the laugh that tumbled from your lips again at Theo’s words. You’d grown so close to him over the last couple of days you couldn’t stop the next words from falling out of your mouth. “Fuck, he just… he hurt me so bad, Theo. I dunno how to get over it. I relive it nearly every time I close my eyes and try to sleep, I don’t know what to do, how to get better form it.”

Theo looked back towards the manor, “Who hurt you? Malfoy? I’ll hex him, I swear it, he’s just in his office, I can probably do it from here.” He took his wand from his pocket, pointing it towards a set of windows. You grabbed his wrist quickly, “No, Teddy, not Draco. That’s not what I mean….it was…” you trailed off, but Theo was able to finish your sentence for you. “Damiano.” You tensed at the name, facial features wincing and eyes shutting like just the mere mention of him would cause him to appear in front of you, despite knowing of all the protective features of the manor.

“Wait…,” you looked up at him now, “how do you-”

“Mattheo asked all of us if we knew who he was after that first session, when you told him,” Theo cut you off, giving you your explanation. “I’ve heard of him before,” Theo was looking just past you now, into the flowerbed on the outskirts of the garden, “comes from a very prominent Italian wizarding family, very very dangerous.” Theo looked you in the eyes now, “How did you manage to even get caught up in that, love? I thought you said your family left Italy.”

You shrugged, looking away from his stare, “After my parents died, I wanted to feel close to them again. I went to both places that they came from, my father’s first, then my mothers. When I was in Italy he…he came up to me. I was in a pub, by myself, stupid now that I look back on it. He approached me, told me I was beautiful,” you shook your head, “Actually, the little manipulator said to me ‘Eyes like yours belong to the most beautiful of Greek goddesses, so what is a goddess doing in Italy all alone’. Sounds cheesy in English but in italian…”

Theo let out a low whistle, “Quite the charming sentence I’m sure.” You nodded. “So what happened? How did it turn in to…” Theo trailed off, not even really knowing how to ask as he didn’t really know how bad it had gotten before you left. You sighed, closing your eyes as you responded, “Maybe a month later it turned into chaos. He must have known about my mother, or someone in his family knew of my mother’s side or something? I knew I came from a long line of healers, but I guess I just didn’t know how prominent they were in Italy. But he did, his family did.”

You opened your eyes, Theo frowning at the gloss over them, knowing tears were about to come and he had no power to stop them, “I lied when I was healing Enzo.” Theo’s head titled in confusion, his mouth opening to ask what you meant but you continued too quickly, “I didn’t get practice in removing dark spells from the war. Nearly anyone hit with that kind of magic during that died instantly and I was too shell shocked from my own parents death I barely healed anyone that day.”

Taking a deep breath, you let it all flow out of you, “He used me Theo. D-Damiano and his family. He enticed me that first month, making me feel like he was falling for me, I was certainly falling for him…so stupid,” you chasiszed yourself, “I was the healer for their family. They kept me in the house, I was essentially on their beck and call twenty four seven. I don’t know exactly what they were doing but they would come back with deep, horrific wounds, edges caked in black, dark magic. Just like Enzo’s. That’s how…”

“That’s how you knew what it was, how to handle it,” Theo finished for you. You nodded, “I couldn’t mess up, not ever. Godric, Damiano would beat me if I did. Grant it he kind of beat me anyway. I tried to leave once, tried to tell them I was done. That was the first time Damiano really beat me. Took me two weeks to fully heal myself.” The tears were falling freely now as you bore your soul to Theo, “What Mattheo saw was near the end, when I kept getting fed up and finally started speaking up for myself. That’s what the dreams are, what you woke me up from before.”

Theo looked at you, his own ocean eyes glossing over hearing your story, “You’re safe now, you know that right?” You nodded, resting your forehead on his shoulder. Theo rubbed up and down your back, not wanting to disturb your moment of peace for a while. After a few beats, he pushed you up by your shoulders, “C’mon, uncellina, let go back. Boss should be back soon, I���m sure you wanna freshen up for him.” He gave you a playful wink before you slapped his chest, “Teddy! How many times do I have to tell you, there’s nothing going on. He’s my boss too, you know.”

You stood up with Theo, hooking your elbow in his as you both began to walk back towards the manor. “All I’m saying is Mattheo has never looked at any of us the way he looks at you. I’ve never had to watch over someone while he’s been gone before either.” You shook your head, letting out a laugh, “Well I hate to break it to you, Theo, but I think I just have a nicer ass than you, that’s probably the difference. And as for watching over me, he’s probably just still being protective since that one night with that fucking slime ball, Monti.”

Theo tensed slightly at the mention of that night, “Don’t remind me. And don’t mock my ass, darling. I get plenty of my own compliments from many a ladies, thank you very much.” You threw your head back in laughter and Theo smiled at you enjoying yourself. As you approached the back doors to the manor, they swung open on their own. Theo led you all the way to the stairwell. You took two steps up before turning back, grabbing hold of this shoulder. At this angle you were nearly the same height as him. You leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss to his cheek, “Thanks for listening this week, Theo. I really needed it.”

Theo smiled at you, “Anytime, sorella,” he tapped his temple, “Just give me a shout and I’ll be there for you.” You nodded before turning around and heading up the stairs to your room. Once inside you went to your top drawer of your dresser, digging deep into the bottom. You may have fibbed a little to Theo when stating there was nothing between you and Mattheo.

Honestly you didn’t know what was happening between you and Mattheo but his words still rang in your ear, crystal clear if you concentrated too hard on them. “I own you.” Merlin, you wanted to know what he meant, and to what extent. You rummaged through your drawer, picking out a black set. You were going to find out just how far Mattheo would let you go, and just how much control he’d let you have.

As you threw on your robe, folding and tying the strings around your waist you heard a pop behind you. This time it didn’t phase you, you fully expected who it was. You turned to see Mattheo standing at the foot of your bed, white dress shirt slightly splattered with a painting of red. He saw your eyes roam his face, taking in the small cut on his cheekbone before taking in the rest of his appearance.

“Bloods not mine,” Mattheo started walking toward you but stopped when you held up your hand. “Take it off,” you words were sharp, precise. Mattheo tilted his head down slightly, smirk adorning his face. You repeat yourself with more instruction, “Take off the shirt, keep on the trousers, sit in the chair.”

You watched at Mattheo slowly raised his hands, starting at the top button of his shirt. Your eyes were glued to his fingers pulling and pushing the buttons from each hole, the veins in his hands and forearms prominent with the movement. He slowly slid the shirt off his shoulders and down his strong biceps once the last button was undone. You bit the inside of your cheek as you drank in his strong chest and the array of scars littered there and down the ridges of his abdomen.

Once he was free of his shirt he followed your instructions, walking over to the chair in the corner of the room. He eased himself down, a hand on each of the armrests. Once he was fully seated he spread his legs open, pushing his crotch up slightly as he did so. You sauntered over to him, eyes raking over his body once more and Mattheo sat in anticipation.

“I just thought I should show you some appreciation,” you twirled your wand, a slow and seductive song now playing lowly in the room. Mattheo’s eyebrows shot up slightly, “Appreciation?” You nodded, dragging your fingers up your thighs, your silk robe pulling up slightly, giving Mattheo a peak of the thick of your thighs. His jaw clenched ever so slightly, but you noticed, and it only encouraged you further.

Your hands came up to the bow you had tied early, Mattheo found it fitting, wrapped up like a present just for him. You placed a hand on each arm rest, leaning close to whisper in his ear, “If I’m going to be a slut, it can only be for you, right boss?” His jaw clenched again, a low growl emitting from his throat. “So let me show you just how good of a slut I can be for you.” Mattheo’s only response was a grunt, his hands flying up to untie your robe. Your hands were quicker, grabbing hold of his wrists and halting his movements, “Ah, ah, no touching until I say so, can you handle that, boss?”

Mattheo’s mouth upturned ever so slightly, “Usually I’m the one giving instructions.” You mirrored his smirk, “Well let’s see how good you are at listening, then maybe you’ll get a reward.” You stood up slowly, allowing him a view down the front of your robe before you stood up fully. You swayed your hips back and forth as your hands came to the knot at the front of your waist. You pulled at the drawstring slowly, Mattheo’s eyes intensely watching every movement your hands made.

As the knot became undone you turned your back to Mattheo, relishing in the low growl that left his lips as you opened your robe yet still denied him visual access to what he wanted. You let the silk slide down your shoulders, revealing the black straps along your shoulders and across your back. You let the robe fall down to the floor, giving Mattheo a full view of the lace that barely covered your arse. You placed a hand on each arm rest, swiveling your hips just over his crotch, hovering just where you knew he’d like you, but not giving it to him fully.

“You’re playing with fire, Princess,” it was a warning, one that you chose to ignore. Instead you turned around, settling a knee on either side of his strong thighs, now straddling his lap. Mattheo’s eyes ravaged the front of your outfit, how the lace delicately hugged your breasts, the intricate design of the straps crossing over your ribs. His hands were fists on the arm rests, making you only smile more at his torture. “What’s wrong, Teo? Having trouble controlling yourself?”

He let out a huff of air through his nose, not trusting his voice in this moment. Your slowly trailed your hands up your sides, tracing the criss cross pattern of lace across your ribcage before cupping your breasts, giving them a light and playful squeeze as your threw your head back, sinking slightly lower on his lap, but not quite making contact with him.

Your hands ran up your chest, into your hair as you pressed your body closer to his, sitting up on your knees and allowing your chest to be at his eye level. You could feel his breath fan over your collarbones in short bursts, a sign that he was losing his patience. You sat back on his thighs, painting on the most innocent face you could muster.

You let your hands roam his bare chest, fingers dancing over scars before lacing them behind his neck. You toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. What you did next Mattheo wasn’t expecting, especially not from you. Flattening your tongue, you licked along the cut on his cheekbone, cleaning the blood from his cheek. You felt Mattheo’s thighs stiffen beneath you and the excitement you got from this reaction only spurred you further.

The copper metallic taste was new on your tastebuds, Mattheo’s eyes flying open the moment you grabbed hold of his chin, sticking out your tongue to display the scarlet red painted across it. In that moment his eyes flashed darker than you’d ever seen. You brought your tongue back into your mouth, then brought your lips to his. You were soft at first, nearly ghosting your lips across his before grinding your hips down. You could feel his hardness against your barely clothed core, the roughness of his trousers providing the perfect amount of friction on your swollen clit.

You could feel him tense more with every roll of your hips, lips never quite touching his again, lips feather light over the skin of his cheek, along his jaw. You nipped at his ear, teasing him further now, “You’re being such a good boy for me, fuck, letting me use you like this.” You rolled your hips again, feeling his hardness strain against his trousers and seeing his jaw clench made you feel powerful and you were getting drunk on the feeling. You knew the next sentence was pushing it a little too far, you knew he’d likely snap from it, but it was exactly what you wanted to happen. A low moan left your lips as you dragged your pussy along his length before you whispered in his ear, “Who owns who now?”

A growl and a low, “Fuck this,” was all that left Mattheo’s mouth before his hands roughly grabbed hold of your arse, his lips attaching themselves to your neck as he began harshly sucking and biting at the sensitive skin there. You gasped, clutching onto his shoulders as he stood up, walking you both over towards the bed before throwing you down. You bounced against the mattress, sitting up on your elbows as Mattheo stood at the edge of the bed.

Your eyes watched as Mattheo’s fingers slowly undid the buttons of his trousers, teasingly sliding down his zipper as he spoke, “Seems like I wasn’t clear enough the last time.” He slid his pants down until they pooled at his feet. He ran his thumb along the waistband of his briefs, “But I promise you Princess,” he pushed his briefs down his legs, his length slapping the underside of his stomach, the head of his dick red and leaking, “after tonight you are never going to forget who you belong to.”

He kneeled on the bed, tracing his fingertips along the outsides of your calves, slowly trailing up to your thighs where he began kneading the flesh. His hands roamed towards the inside of your thighs, goosebumps rising on your skin in his wake. He slowly pushed your legs open wider, gripping the underside of your knees and yanking your body towards him.

Hooking your knees over his elbows he leaned down to capture your lips in his, a moan leaving his lips and he rutted his hips into yours. You could feel his length slide along your folds, the tip of his dick catching your clit and making you gasp. Mattheo took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, exploring and deepening the kiss as he slid one of his hands between your bodies.

You were so encaptured by his mouth that the feeling of his two fingers slipping inside your hole caught you off guard, your breath leaving your lungs as he curled his fingers, hitting deep inside you and making your legs twitch. “So fucking tight, Princess, not sure if I’m gonna fit,” he moaning against your neck, nipping and bitting your skin, sure to leave a trail of bruises for the others to see.

“Merlin, I’m going to wreck this tight little cunt,” Mattheo’s lips trailed down your neck, over the swells of your breast before he took his other hand to rip down your top. Mattheo wrapped his lips around one of your taut nipples, one hand palming and massaging the other as his fingers continued to work your cunt, scissoring and pumping inside you to open you up.

You felt the familiar build up in your stomach, heat pooling at your core as Mattheo continued his ministrations. “Please, Teo, fuck-” His thumb swiped over your clit, a smirk pulling at his lips, “Yeah, you like that Princess? C’mon, give me one before I fill this cunt. Show me how much of a slut you are, just f’me, just like ya said.”

His fingers continued their assault, thumb circling your clit in perfect rhythm. His words were the last encouragement you needed before you were falling over the edge, hand grasping his forearm and nails digging into his skin as you saw white. Mattheo continued to pump his fingers into you as you rode of your high, hips bucking into his palm as you became sensitive.

He slid his fingers from you slowly, a whimper leaving your lips at the empty feeling he left. He brought his fingers up to your mouth, sliding them past your lips. You sucked his fingers eagerly, holding eye contact as you swirled your tongue around his digits. He slipped his fingers from your mouth, capturing your lips with his as he slid your panties down your legs and tossing them aside.

He rut his hips against yours again, his cock easily sliding through your slick folds from your previous orgasm. He sat back on his hunches, grabbing hold of your knees and keeping your legs spread wide. He bucked his hips slightly, teasingly knocking his length against your clit sloppily just to earn pathetic whimpers and begging from your lips.

Lining himself up, he teased you further, pressing just the head of his cock inside your hole. You whined, trying to buck your hips and feel more of him. “Patience, Princess,” Mattheo growled before pressing your knees to your chest and sinking fully into you.

You moaned in unison, Mattheo stilling momentarily to allow you to adjust to his size. He filled you completely, more than anyone before him. You could feel all of him, his length, his thickness, every vein against your walls. He pulled back slightly before slamming his hips back to yours, “Oh, fuck, Matty.” You could feel his cock pulsing inside you as he repeated the motion, pulling out father and slamming into you harder each time.

Mattheo placed a hand on your lower stomach, applying pressure as he continues to rut his hips into yours. The new sensation had your eyes rolling, but Mattheo didn’t like that, his free hand now gripping your throat at the sides, “Eyes on me, Princess. I wanna see you fall apart all over this cock.” You comply, struggling with hooded eyes as his hips pound into you. Snap into you harder. Faster. Your jaw slacks and it’s all the encouragement he needs to keep going.

Your hips meet his thrusts, chasing your second high. His stubble catching your clit at just the right angle as your hips meet. You’re practically drooling as Mattheo babbles praises against your skin, telling you how well your taking him, how pretty your pussy looks filled with him and each word tightens the coil in your stomach as you’re chanting his name. Your nails rake down his back as he hits that particular spot deep inside and your walls clench around him like a vice.

His moans are deep as he grabs hold of your leg, hiking it over his shoulder. The new angle sending you over the edge, babbling his name as you release all over his cock. He doesn’t stop though, continuing to pound into you, chasing his own high. Your chest is heaving, rising up and down as you try to catch your breath to no avail as Mattheo doesn’t slow down.

“You can take it Princess-fuck-bloody hell you feel so good-you’ve got one more in you, know you can do it for me,” he growls, pulling your hips to his. He captures your lips with his own as your fingers dig into his shoulders. You can feel his hips stuttering, his thrusts becoming more sloppy as he chases his own high. His thumb finds your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles as me mumbled against your lips, “Who owns you, huh, Princess? Who owns you and this tight fucking pussy? -Gods- Who is it?”

Your thoughts were a white hot blindness of bliss, head shaking back and forth as you were unable to form words. Mattheo slapped the outside of your thigh, “Answer me, slut, who owns you?” You moaned at the lewdness of it all, stuttering dumb over the pleasure, “Y-you, Mattheo, you own me. Fuck-I b-belong to you.”

“Good fucking girl.” With a few more swirls of his thumb your legs were quaking as you cried out his name, cumming hard before you felt Mattheo spill his seed deep inside your walls. His hips still, chest rising and falling with panting breaths before slowly pulling out of you. He leaned back on his heels, watching as the mix of both your juices seeped from your hole.

Mattheo swiped his fingers through your folds, gathering the mixture before pumping his fingers back into you a few times. Your body jerked at the motion, Mattheo only laughing before pulling his fingers back out and pushing them past your lips, “Taste that Princess? That’s what I do to you.” You moaned around his fingers, making obscene noises as you sucked them clean. “Mmm, you really were a slut for me, Princess,” he kissed sloppily along your neck, “next time I’m gonna taste you.” You moaned at the thought, wishing you weren’t so sensitive so he could cash in that promise right now.

You watched with half hooded eyes as Mattheo climbed down from the bed, digging in to his discarded trousers. He grabbed his wand, waving it quickly over both of you and cleaning you up. You pouted slightly, having quite enjoyed the feeling of both your messes on you. You half expected Mattheo to leave as it seemed he was headed toward the door. Instead he opened one of your draws, grabbing shorts and a shirt and tossing them on the bed in front of you before pulling his own briefs back on.

Pulling back the covers, you nestled into the bed, Mattheo climbing back in and pulling you close to his chest. You intertwined your legs with his, relishing in his body heat. Your head rested against his chest as his fingers danced over your shoulder and up and down your arm. Your eyes were heavy, lids falling shut as the rise and fall of his chest gave you calmness.

Mattheo pressed his lips to the crown of your head, words tumbling from his mouth in a whisper, “You’re so important to me, Birdie. One day I’ll tell you how much.” You heard his words, ever so faintly. Not being able to fully register them before the chasms of sleep overtook you.

[yuristarz]

I was in the mood to write something, so welcome to my brain spits out weird scenarios that i thought of. Here you go:

Thinking about slipping infront of cod men:

Soap: Just straight up laughs at you, Will help you up after a bit tho

Gaz: Giggles a bit but helps you up nearly straight away

Price: Doesn't laugh, Is worried you hurt yourself, will help you up straight away

Ghost: gives you a disapproving look and shakes his head will maby help you up

_________________________________________

I don't know why my brain thought of this lol but i think it's pretty funny. Anyway hope you guys liked it! Constructive criticism is always appreciated <3

[cottoncandytomu]

Lesbihonest Here~

We all know Abby just wants to be loved and I can see her crumbling when you praise and worship her. You make damn sure to let her know how much you love it too. 

Notes:

(Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader) (Nothin but smut under here so 18+ and MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! - Oral F! Abby Receiving/Reader Giving, Praise, light cursing)  

New Fic! 🥰🥰 Dark! Abby Anderson x Reader

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

“God you’re so fuckin’ beautiful Abby~” You moan as you kiss your way up her thighs to the one place she craves for you the most. 

Her breathy moans fill your ears, and it goes straight to your heat, nothing is more pleasing than satisfying her. To hear her beautiful sounds and be able to witness her twitch and shiver with pleasure. You continue kissing her inner thighs, leaving bite marks and red spots in your wake. 

“I love pleasing you.” You bite down hard on her thigh causing her to gasp, “love seeing ya under me like this.” You kiss the bite mark softly. 

“Fuck- please…” She breathes out. 

“Please what?” You smirk, needing to hear her say it out loud. 

“P-Please touch me.” Her face is a bright red from your teasing, a sight you’ll never get tired of. 

“Touch you where hmm? Here?” You ask dipping your head down to plant a kiss on her clit. 

This causes her to jump, letting out the cutest squeal. You chuckle and let your tongue roll out and lick from her hole to her bud, her juices coating your tongue. 

“Ah- fuck, yes please do that.” 

Her hands bunch up the sheets under her, her muscles flexing at the action. She’s shining from the gleam of sweat she’s produced from your teasing alone. There truly isn’t a prettier sight than this. 

“I’ll do whatever you ask of me Princess, you’re so fuckin’ perfect for me.” 

You start to work your tongue through her folds, she’s mumbling incoherent words whilst arching her back at your ministrations on her cunt. You lay your palm onto her inner thigh to keep her legs open, your other hand reaching up to lace your fingers in hers. 

You pull your head back slightly and meet her eyes, “Don’t hold back love, you’re doing so good. Now look into my eyes I want to see you break for me~” 

Her eyes roll back at your words as you delve into her delight once more, knowing this is going to be a long pleasurable night ahead of you two. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

I am such a slut for submissive Abby. 

BUT OMF this is my first little drabble on this account and I’m on the VERGE OF TEARS bc I’ve had writers block for fuckin years now. So, it’s nice to finally say I finished something. If you beauties enjoyed it, please let me know!! And I welcome any constructive criticism, I truly want to better my writing. OKAY THANKS!! Dkfsjflk  

=^.^= ~

[spnjediavenger]

It Won't Last Forever (Chapter 1)

Title: It Won’t Last Forever (Chapter 1)

Type: multi-chapter; father!Hotch x teen!daughter!reader, some bau x teen!reader (platonic!)

Warnings: canon-typical Criminal Minds sadness and/or violence, blood, light injury description

POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS: panic attack description, flashbacks, alludes to PTSD, family death

Spoilers: S5 SPOILERS

Notes: I changed the end of the episode a bit. Sorrynotsorry.

The panic attack and PTSD description is a mix of my own experience and some I read online - this is not how ALL panic attacks and PTSD are experienced.

Y/n/n is a general nickname, N/n is going to be a nickname only Spencer uses for Y/n

Information creds at the end; I took some info verbatim to use in some of Spencer’s info dumps

As always, love and/or constructive/friendly criticism is welcome and encouraged!

Word count: 3,169

“Sometimes the loudest cries for help are silent.” Harlan Coben

The scene the team walked into wasn’t quite what they expected it would be. Hell, it wasn't what Hotch expected it would be. Not in the end anyway. He expected the blood on the floor. Even on the walls. But he thought he would walk in and find Foyet and be part of the final fight. What he didn’t expect was to find his daughter slightly beaten standing in the bedroom with a gun in her hands and Foyet dead on the floor - a bullet hole dead center in his forehead. 

Hotch quickly went to check that Jack was ok and send him out of the house with JJ before coming back to see his daughter. 

Y//n heard his movement and spun on her heel, gun pointed at him, eyes wild and body shaking.

“Y/n, honey, it’s me. It’s dad,” he said, holding his hands up in a calming manner. 

“Daddy?” she whispered shakily, body still trembling. 

“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s ok now. I need you to drop the gun, honey.” Hotch had tears running down his face from grief and he couldn’t hide that right now. But he also needed to talk Y/n down, who was clearly in shock. 

The girl’s eyes flicked down to the weapon in her hands and she began to shake more. She looked back up at her dad. “I worked the case, too. I… I had to… I couldn’t let him hurt Jack too…” she trailed off as she turned her head to the ground and saw her mother’s lifeless body laying there. 

“I know, honey. It’s ok. But I need you to drop the gun now, ok? It’s all over.”

She looked down at the gun again, to Foyet’s body, then her dad and finally dropped the gun. Hotch was quick to kick it away and pull his daughter into his arms, glad she was safe. Her arms stayed at her sides and she stared straight ahead into the hallway. Hotch pulled back and tried to look into her eyes but they were devoid of anything. He called Morgan back into the room and asked him to take Y/n outside to have her looked at and informed him that she was in shock. Hotch walked over to Haley’s body and Morgan put an arm around Y/n’s shoulders to lead her to the ambulance outside. 

Each member of the team watched her, ready to offer comfort and condolences but Y/n just stared empty ahead. They looked at each other, concerned, but chalked it up to her being in shock. Some might think this day would be the eye of the storm. But the storm was just getting started. 

Hotch did his best to be there for his kids through losing Haley while not neglecting his own feelings and need to cope. Jack was so young that he didn’t fully understand what was going on; Y/n, though, should have been showing signs of coping. Or even just feeling. But she didn’t. For a teenager who just lost her mother, she was surprisingly calm. Hotch hadn’t seen her cry once since her death. And frankly, he was concerned. He tried approaching her and getting her to talk but she just kept telling him she was fine. She put on a happier façade around Jack but Hotch could see right through it. The rest of his team, when they would visit, noticed too. They were all worried. 

One Saturday, Hotch had to go into work. Jack was over at a friend’s house and would be sleeping over so that would leave Y/n by herself. 

He stopped by her room and tapped his knuckles on her door. A very quiet ‘come in’ sounded and he opened the door to find the girl sitting in the window seat staring outside, arms hugging her knees to her chest. 

“Hey, sweetheart. The team and I have to go into work. Do you want to come with me? Say hi to everyone? They all miss you. Might be a good idea to get out of the house for a bit with Jack at his friend’s,” he suggested.

Y/n let out a sigh through her nose and reluctantly nodded. She grabbed a hoodie and her mini backpack. Hotch held an arm out and she let him wrap it around her shoulders and lead her to the car. 

The ride to the BAU was quiet and uncomfortable. Well, it was uncomfortable for Hotch anyway. He spared glances at Y/n as she stared blankly out the window as they drove, no emotion to her features. 

As they entered the bullpen, all eyes looked up and smiles appeared on everyone’s faces. 

“Heeey! What’s happening Y/n/n?” Morgan said, getting up and opening his arms for a hug. Y/n returned the hug to a bare minimum and remained quiet. 

“Hey, how’s it going Y/n?” Emily was next, rocking her a bit as they hugged. The girl shrugged and let Spencer hug her next. 

“I think I found the perfect book for you to read next,” he said. Y/n forced a half smile and nodded. 

JJ came up next but decided against saying anything, noticing her reactions, or rather, lack thereof. 

“Oh my goodness gracious did I hear that baby Hotchner is here?!” Penelope’s voice rang through the room. She ran over and practically crushed Y/n in her arms. “Why did no one tell me our favorite Hotchner was coming?! Oh uh, no offense, sir,” she added, looking at her boss. 

He gave a small, humored smile. “Non taken.”

Penelope looked back to Y/n and frowned. “Oh my sweetness. What’s going on? Talk to Auntie Penny.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, then turned to her dad. “I’m gonna go to your office.”

“Alright, sweetheart.”

The team watched as she ascended the stairs, accepting a hug from Rossi as he came out of his own office, and shut herself in her dad’s. 

Morgan looked over to Hotch as Rossi came down. “She still isn’t saying anything?”

Hotch shook his head. 

“Have you tried taking her to therapy?” Rossi asked.

“She won’t even talk to me, Dave. Why would she talk to a stranger?”

“Because it’s not you. You should know that sometimes it’s hardest to open up to those you’re closest to.”

Hotch sighed. “I don’t think she’d take to the idea. She won’t even admit to anything being wrong.”

“Could she still be in shock?” Morgan offered.

“This far away from the trauma? It’s been a couple weeks - is that common?” JJ asked. 

“Typically, emotional shock lasts for minutes to days, but can last for weeks to months depending on the severity of the trauma. And considering there are multiple sources of trauma for Y/n that her mind is pulling from it’s actually not surprising that she’s still experiencing symptoms,” Reid came in with an info dump. 

“As much as I’m worried about Y/n, I’d like to get this case out of the way,” Hotch said, trying to change the subject. The others nodded slightly solemnly and got to work. 

A few hours into the visit, Y/n left her dad’s office to grab a snack. She passed the round table room and heard snippets of the team talking. 

“He may have the same mask but this man is nothing like Foyet.”

Y/n froze and almost tripped over her feet. Her breath caught in her throat and she shook her head to try and clear it. 

The movement caught Morgan’s attention and he tapped Hotch to stop his mention of Foyet. 

“You ok, kid?” Morgan called out to her. 

Snapping out of her thoughts, Y/n nodded. “Yeah, fine,” she said, and continued walking. The team shared looks but continued their work. 

Y/n bounced down the steps to the break room. She grabbed a glass from the counter and filled it with water and went to get a snack from one of the cabinets but the door was stuck. She groaned and gave a harder tug. With a bit too much momentum, the door flew open and the corner caught her under her eye. She gasped and dropped the glass, causing it to shatter on the ground. This caught the team’s attention from upstairs. 

The sting under her eye sent her back two weeks and suddenly Foyet was in front of her. 

“You weren’t the one I was figuring on fighting. But I’ll take it,” he smirked, punching her again. She fell to the ground, hands getting cut on the glass under her. But she didn’t notice. 

She kicked his knee, sending him to the ground with her. He grabbed his leg and she had the chance to get up. 

“Y/n.” That wasn’t Foyet’s voice. 

She grabbed the gun that had fallen out of her hands and pointed it at Foyet. He grabbed her legs and pulled them from under her. She gasped as her head hit the ground. 

Hotch tried grabbing Y/n’s flailing limbs to keep her from injuring herself further. He was trying to get through to her and get her to open her eyes but it was like she didn’t hear him. 

Y/n kicked her legs at him and landed one in the face. She took the moment to stand once more and shoot him square in the forehead. 

“Y/n!”

Y/n sucked in a deep breath as her eyes opened and she saw her father in front of her, his familiar grip on her wrists. 

“Daddy?” she whispered. Her body was shaking. 

Hotch swallowed the sob his body wanted to release at the familiarity of these events. “That’s right, sweetheart. It’s ok now.”

Y/n glanced around the room to remind herself where she was and saw blood on the ground. 

Haley’s body lay on the floor, blood seeping through her clothes from multiple gunshot wounds. She let out a broken gasp and moved away.

She jerked and tried to back away but Hotch kept his grip on her. She began hyperventilating. 

“Y/n, honey, everything is fine. That’s your blood, you cut your hands. You’re at the BAU.” He tried to keep his tone light but he was desperate to help his little girl. He didn’t know what to do.

“Hotch, maybe let me try?” Spencer spoke up. 

“She’s my daughter,” he defended. 

“Aaron, she needs someone who’s level-headed right now,” Rossi said. “Let the kid help.”

Hotch gave Spencer an apologetic look and nodded. Spencer hobbled over and carefully knelt down to Y/n’s level. 

“N/n, it’s Spencer,” he said gently. “I need you to look at me; can you do that, sweetheart?”

Y/n’s ears picked up on ‘N/n.’ Only one person ever called her that. Her wild eyes looked around until they landed on the youngest member of the BAU team. 

“Spencer,” she gasped, still hyperventilating. 

He smiled a bit. “That’s it. I need you to try and breathe for me ok? You’re having a panic attack. Can I help you move away from the glass?”

The girl nodded and Spencer guided her away and into a chair that Rossi had pulled out for her.

“Good job. Now, follow my breathing ok? Breath in for four, hold for four, let out for four.”

The girl nodded but as soon as she tried to take a deep breath, a sob came out making her practically choke on it. Hotch held a hand over his mouth and turned away, unable to stand seeing his daughter like this. 

Spencer rubbed Y/n’s back soothingly as she coughed. 

“Alright, that’s ok. Put your head between your knees instead. Putting your head below your heart will increase blood circulation to your brain and keep you from getting dizzy or passing-“

“Reid,” Morgan interrupted him, afraid his info dump would make things worse. 

“No,” Y/n whimpered. “Keep talking.” Listening to Reid talk was actually helping and giving her something else to focus on.

The boy nodded and kept guiding her actions as he continued talking, keeping a gentle tone instead of the usual teacher-like one his info dumps typically sported. “Morgan, grab some ice,” he said over his shoulder then turned back to Y/n. “Panic attacks are common for a number of psychological illnesses and can be connected to trauma. There are different types of attacks and I’m assuming this is situational-induced attack; these occur as a response to something specific and expected. They can happen in anticipation of a trigger or immediately after exposure to it. Triggers from traumatic events are quite common. Thanks, Morgan. Here, hold this. One way to stop panic attacks, especially when steadying your breathing is difficult, is to stimulate the senses. This works to interrupt the automatic reactions to the panic attack to snap the body out of the symptoms. Smelling something strong or holding ice are common methods and usually the most helpful. And one of the most important things to remember,” he added as he saw she finally began to relax, “is that while panic attacks may feel like they are never-ending, but they usually peak within 10 minutes. It won’t last forever.”

“It won’t last forever,” she whispered after him. 

Spencer nodded and pushed some hair out of her face when she looked up. “It won’t last forever. You did great, N/n.”

The girl gave a small smile. It was the first real one Hotch had seen since before Haley died. He let out a relieved sigh and Rossi squeezed his shoulder. 

Spencer glanced at Hotch and looked back at Y/n. “Can you let your dad clean your hands and eye up, Y/n? Those need to be taken care of.”

The girl nodded and Spencer smiled and kissed her head as he stood to walk away. Hotch put a hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. A silent ‘thank you.’ Spencer patted Hotch’s shoulder and left the room. 

Y/n’s eyes drooped a bit as tiredness overtook her. The panic attack had drained a lot of her energy. Hotch let her sit in silence as he tended to her wounds, not missing the flinch when he first touched her eye. But he wouldn’t bring it up now. He now knew he couldn’t wait for her to be comfortable talking but he would at least wait until she had more energy.

After wrapping her hands and cleaning her eye, Hotch took Y/n home. The team was just about done for the day anyway and the others told him that Y/n was his main priority right now. He thanked them and left.

It was around dinner time when they arrived home so Hotch suggested Y/n get changed into some comfy clothes and take a nap while he ordered takeout. She wordlessly nodded and went to her room. Hotch sighed and grabbed his phone to get working on dinner.

When the food came, Hotch and Y/n ate in silence save for the TV in the background. Y/n seemed to be a little less tired but Hotch could tell she had a lot of things running through her mind. 

Once they finished eating and the dishes were taken care of, Hotch approached Y/n before she could retreat to her room.

“Honey? Can we talk please?”

Y/n looked at her father and saw hope in his eyes. But almost in a pleading way. She weighed her options in her head but soon gave a resigned sigh and nodded. She took her dad’s outstretched hand and let him lead her to the couch. Y/n hugged her legs to her chest and Hotch brought a leg up so he could face her.

“Y/n…you don’t have to share anything you don’t want to…I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. But sweetheart, you have to let something out. Anything. I was going to let things go until you weren’t in shock but after today I don’t feel comfortable considering that luxury anymore. We’ve all been through a lot and you’re no exception. Keeping things bottled up isn’t healthy. As much as I hate to see you upset, it’s worried me that you haven’t cried once. Please just tell me something, honey. No one can help you if you don’t let us in.”

As Hotch talked, Y/n could feel the slightest sting begin behind her eyes. In all honesty - she was worried about her lack of emotion too. But she didn’t have it in her to say anything about it. It took too much energy.

She let out another sigh and looked down at her hands. “I haven’t said anything the past two weeks because I haven’t felt anything the past two weeks,” she said quietly. “It’s like my mind was a void. I put on a happy face for Jack because I know he needs me. But the rest of the time I just couldn’t be bothered. But today…”

Hotch watched her as her voice drifted off. “What happened today?” he asked gently.

Y/n took a shaky breath. “I heard someone say his name and I froze. I don’t know why. But I couldn’t move for a second. Then in the break room the stupid cabinet was stuck then it hit my eye when I tried jerking it open and all of a sudden I was back there. He was in front of me. It was like I was living it all over again.” At this point, her voice started shaking and tears were glossing over her eyes. “He had punched me when I threatened him and that’s what I think brought it on. It was in the same place the door hit. I could hear you calling my name sometimes but it sounded far away. But I saw everything again and I…I felt. I think it happened too fast the first time and my brain couldn’t catch up, b-but this time…this time it could.” She turned her red eyes up to her father’s, which were also beginning to redden. “I-I shot him, dad. I killed someone. And mom-” a cry escaped her lips and Hotch wasted no time in pulling her into his arms.

Ugly sobs forced their way out of Y/n’s lips as she clung to her father for dear life. Her fingers dug into his shoulders but right now he couldn’t care less.

“I couldn’t save her, daddy! I tried!”

Hotch started crying harder at seeing Y/n breaking down. “I know- I know you did, sweetheart. It’s ok. It wasn’t your job to. It’s not your fault.”

Y/n buried her face into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with tears and snot. They both wrapped their arms around each other tighter and cried. Hotch held her head with one hand while the other remained on her back, rubbing up and down. 

Nothing else was said. Right now, nothing else needed to be said. The Hotchner family had each other’s backs. They had a long road ahead of them, but they would get through it. Together.

Misty Copeland once said: “Be strong, be fearless, be beautiful. And believe that anything is possible when you have the right people there to support you.”

(Chapter 2) ->

Creds: how-to-stop-a-panic-attack-5202930

anxiety-101-how-stop-panic-attacks-their-tracks

[pulisicsgirl]

spaces between us - christian pulisic

summary: Y/N and Christian's relationships has been strained lately due to conflicting schedules and minimal effort to spend time with one another. Y/N's plan to talk to Christian about it goes awry and drives the couple further apart from each other.

pairing: Christian Pulisic x reader

word count: 5.3k

warnings/tags: angst and arguing (but it turns out okay in the end don't worry), Christian is a little bit of a dick, Y/N is a little bit overdramatic, but also sickening fluff, Christian is a lovesick twat, use of the phrase "whooping and hollering" (I'm sorry, I'm painfully American), hasty proofreading (because I’m posting this at 3 am and I have classes tomorrow morning), and like one suggestive comment

requested: yes!!!

notes: thank you so so much to @chelseagirl98 for sending this request in!! I had so much fun writing it, and I hope it lives up to your expectation! I tried a little something new with the text messages, so let me know what you think of that! Also, I think this is my first time writing a fight/make-up fic like this, so it might not be very good, but I welcome any constructive criticism! :)

As always, requests are still open! Send any ideas my way! 💙

You moved quickly around the kitchen, juggling bowls and ingredients as you did your best to prepare a homecooked meal to surprise Christian with when he got home from training. It wasn’t anything all that special, and you weren’t a five-star chef by any means, but you were trying your hardest—and that had to count for something, right?

For the last several weeks, you had sensed a distance forming between you and Christian. With his busy life as a footballer and your inconsistent work hours, it had been difficult to find time to see one another. On the rarer days that you were home together in the evening, you were both exhausted, quickly finding something to eat (often some takeout delivery that you ordered online) before setting things in order and going straight to bed. You couldn’t remember the last time you and Christian had just sat down to spend time together, sharing a conversation with any amount of substance.

After a particularly bitter morning where the two of you had moved around each other in the kitchen and bathroom without sharing a word or interacting almost at all, you had miraculously gotten out of work early. Deciding that enough was enough, you ran to the store to pick up some ingredients, resolving to cook a nice meal that you and Christian could sit down and eat together. You hoped it would give you a chance to catch up after the last few weeks of simply living in the same house but not truly being together.

It took you about an hour, but you completed the recipe successfully. As you turned off the burner on the stove and began dishing the food onto plates, you heard the jingle of Christian’s keys as he walked through the front door.

“Babe?” you called out. You listened for his footsteps as they rounded the corner into the kitchen. He was looking down as he came into your view, eyes locked on something on his phone screen. “Hey,” you addressed him uncertainly, wiping your forehead from the heat that had built up in the kitchen from the hour you had spent cooking. Your voice cause his head to snap up to look at you.

“Hey, babe,” he smiled, glancing back at his phone quickly before he turned it off and shoved it in his pocket. He walked around the kitchen island and pulled you into his side, kissing the top of your head. “What’s all this?”

You couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed, hoping for a little more than a side-hug and a kiss on the head from your boyfriend after not seeing him all day. You tried to brush the feeling off.

“I made dinner!” you replied, a hopeful tone to your voice. You pulled from his side to grab his plate, handing it to him.

“Oh thank goodness,” he took a whiff of the food before walking to the other side of the kitchen island, sitting down in one of the tall chairs. He mumbled a quick, “thanks so much, babe,” before he began devouring the food swiftly.

Again, you tried to brush off the weird feeling that washed over you. You knew he must be hungry after a long day of training—they had even gone a bit late today. You tried to focus on the short expression of gratitude instead as you picked up your own plate, choosing to stand across from him, leaning on the countertop so you could face him while you ate.

The two of you remained there in silence, him scarfing down the food like it was his last meal while you just moved the food around the plate as you stared at it, still feeling uneasy.

You opened your mouth to ask about how training had gone that day, hoping to spark a conversation between the two of you, but movement from the other side of the counter caught you off-guard before you could speak. Having cleaned his plate already, Christian stood from his chair, stepping around it before he pushed it in. He moved to the sink, dropping the empty plate in. He walked behind you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

“It was really good, babe. Thank you.” He walked behind you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “I’m gonna head up to shower.” He stepped to walk out of the kitchen and down the hallway.

“Are you serious, Christian?” You felt the anger finally spilling over in your chest, the heat rising up your neck an into your face. You were beyond frustrated that all of the effort you had gone to had lasted in a five-minute shared silence before he rushed upstairs to shower and go to bed.

Christian turned back around to face you, eyes wide with confusion. You could see him obliviously wracking his brain for what he had done wrong.

“I’m sorry, I can wash my plate,” he spoke quickly as he took two steps back toward the sink before you stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“It’s not about the stupid plate, Christian.” You rolled your eyes at him, and he took a step back from you, surprised by the anger you were displaying. “I went to all this trouble to go get the ingredients and spent all this time to make a home-cooked meal, and all I get is five minutes and ‘it was good, thank you’?”

Christian’s eyes were still wide, taken aback by your reaction. “I’m sorry, it was a really long day. I’m just pretty tired.” The way he said the words made them seem like more of a question.

“You’re always ‘tired’, Christian!” You put air quotes around the word, feeling yourself get more and more worked up about the situation. You felt like now that you were finally voicing your frustrations, all of the emotions were starting to spill over. “You’ve barely spoken to me in weeks! We never see each other anymore, and I’m sick of living in the same house as my boyfriend, but never seeing him!” You began raising your voice without meaning to and you felt your eyes burning with tears. You mentally cursed yourself for crying so easily when you were angry.

“Y/N, I-“

Sensing another excuse coming on, you cut him off. “You didn’t even kiss me goodbye this morning!”

Interrupting Christian and not allowing him to explain himself was a sure way to irritate him, and it immediately put him on the defensive.

“Well, you didn’t kiss me before I left either!” He knew it was a weak defense, but in his frustration, it was the only thing he could come up with. “I’m not the only one in this relationship, Y/N! You could afford to put in a little effort once in a while, instead of just pointing fingers.”

Your mouth fell open in shock at his words, and Christian instantly wished he could take them back, not having meant them at all. “You are unbelievable, Christian. Unbelievable.” You scowled, pushing past him to walk out of the kitchen.

He grabbed your wrist to keep you from walking away, and you shook your head, pulling your arm from his grasp. “No, stop. Come talk to me when you’re ready to act like a half-decent boyfriend.”

You stormed down the hallway to your shared bedroom, slamming the door to the bathroom closed and locking it in case Christian tried to follow you and take back what he had said. Moments later, you heard the doorknob jiggle softly, confirming your prediction.

You felt the tears rolling down your cheeks as you glumly went through your nighttime routine, brushing your teeth, combing out your hair, and washing your face. You tried to ignore your red and swollen eyes from crying as you looked in the mirror.

Once you had finished, you unlocked the door and walked into the bedroom. You did your best to ignore Christian sitting silently on the side of the bed as you walked over to the closet and changed quickly into your pajamas from the night before, scoffing quietly as you realized that it just entailed one of his bigger T-shirts. Nonetheless, you slipped it over your head and flipped the closet light off, closing the door behind you as you exited.

Without a word, you walked to your side of the bed, pulling the sheets and comforter back, crawling in, and covering yourself up, facing away from Christian.

His heart had broken at the sight of your tear-streaked face before you had climbed into the bed. He knew that it was probably best to give you some space for now, so he stood to collect his things and go take his shower. You didn’t miss the soft sigh that left his lips before he stood.

You heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, then the rush of water as he turned the shower on.

You finally allowed yourself to let go, crying out all of the hurt that had built up over the last several weeks. You felt the pain physically in your heart, a hollow feeling in your chest—you were a part of a whole, missing your other half.

It didn’t take long for Christian to finish his shower, and you heard the water turn off. You tried to calm yourself before he left the bathroom, not wanting him to see you in such a weak state after your fight.

A few minutes later, you heard the sound of the bathroom door opening and Christian moving around the room. You did your best to silence your sniffles, but he still heard them, and he felt the painful cracks in his heart tearing open a little further.

You felt the mattress dip behind you as his weight settled into the bed. His arm appeared in front of your body for a moment and you felt him leaning over you to place a soft kiss on your temple.

“Goodnight,” he whispered softly. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you mumbled. As petty as you wanted to be, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t say it back to him.

His weight settled into the bed behind you, not daring to pull you into his arms. The light in the room disappeared with the click of the lamp turning off, and the two of you lay there in silence.

A thousand thoughts were running through both of your heads, but you remained on your side with your back turned to him. You wrapped your arms around your torso, attempting to hold yourself for some sort of comfort against the foreign feeling of falling asleep without being tucked into Christian’s side.

*****

Since it was the weekend, the sun was already peeking through the curtains when you awoke. By instinct, you rolled over, reaching toward the other side of the bed, but your hand only landed on the cold, empty sheets. You snapped your eyes open, finding no sign of Christian’s presence, and the memories of your argument from the night before flooded your mind.

You let out a long, frustrated groan, pressing your face further into the pillow. The uneasy feeling that you always had when you and Christian fought settled in your chest, and you spend a few moments staring at the wall, allowing yourself to give in to the self-pity for a moment before getting up to face the difficult situation.

A buzzing sound coming from your bedside table pulled you from your thoughts, and you rolled back over, lazily grabbing your phone from where it was charging. As the screen lit up, you saw that you had a text from Mason.

You dropped your head back on the pillow for a moment with a sigh. Fighting like this wasn’t doing either of you any good—you both knew it, but this was the main problem you two seemed to face. You didn’t fight often, but when you did, you both struggled to get over your own pride and make it up to each other.

You sent the message and threw the sheets off of your legs, deciding to make yourself a cup of coffee and try to wake up. The tiles of the kitchen floor were cold on your bare feet as you walked across them.

You placed your mug under the coffee maker and started it, leaning against the counter. The cold marble touched your back through the thin material of your—well, Christian’s—shirt and the feeling sent a shiver through your body. You tucked your arms around your stomach, trying to find some sense of warmth and comfort in the otherwise bitter morning.

As your thoughts wandered, you found yourself missing the mornings that you and Christian had previously shared in this very kitchen. Lately, you had barely interacted as you moved around each other, making your coffee and packing lunches, barely mumbling a few words to one another. But before all of that, when you had first moved in together, you couldn't get enough of each other in the mornings. You would always find yourself in his arms, standing between his legs as he leaned against the counter. His large hands would run up and down your sides, sometimes finding their way under his shirt that you wore to stroke the bare skin of your back gently. You would nuzzle your face into his neck, inhaling his scent while he pressed a kiss into your hair. The only audible noise was the coffee maker and the steady drip of coffee into the mug as the two of you waited for it to finish brewing. It was the perfect start to every day, and frequently you found yourself getting out of bed earlier than you needed to just so you would have more time to waste, wrapped in Christian’s arms. Even on your days off, when he would still have training, you would get up with him so you could share those brief moments together before he left for the day and you crawled back into bed.

You snapped back to reality, shaking your head to rid it of the daydream you had nearly gotten lost in. The lights seemed to be more dull now that you were left standing in the kitchen on your own, no lover to hold you close and share his warmth.

You rubbed your hands over your arms, attempting to rid them of the goosebumps that has risen up. Your phone lit up with another notification.

 Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion for a moment. It was then that you remembered—Chelsea had a game today. You sighed, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration with yourself—the game had completely slipped your mind.

Clearly, you weren’t completely innocent in the fact that you and Christian hadn’t been spending time together recently.

You grabbed the finished cup of coffee, pouring a bit of creamer in it before you hurried back up to your bedroom to get changed.

You turned the phone’s screen off, tossing it onto your bathroom counter before turning on your shower and stepping in. You tried to move as quickly as possible, hoping to make it to the stadium and set things right before the game began. You knew that Christian didn’t play as well when he was upset, and the last thing you wanted was to be the reason Chelsea’s golden American had a poor performance.

Plus, you selfishly just wanted to be rid of the empty feeling that came with any separation between you and Christian.

When you stepped out of the shower and onto the soft mat, having completely rinsed off, the room was stuffy and the steam had fogged up the mirror. When you checked your phone again, Mason had texted you several minutes before, right after you had jumped in the shower.

You finished getting ready in record time, running out of the front door with your hair still slightly damp, and you prayed that no one noticed how hastily your makeup had been done. You tapped your fingers nervously on the steering wheel as you drove toward Stamford Bridge, the minutes creeping closer and closer to the time for kickoff as you sat in the London traffic.

When you finally arrived, you rushed to the private entrance, sending Mason a short text as you walked to let him know that you had arrived. The face that greeted you was not Mason’s, but one of the security staff that you recognized from your many trips to the Bridge over the last couple of years. He greeted you with a warm smile, explaining that Mason had sent him to fetch you since they were already beginning to leave the changing room and line up for the tunnel walk when he had gotten your text.

The security guard led you through the winding halls of the stadium and up to the box where the family and friends of the team would sit together. You found your way into an empty seat next to Sophia, Kai’s girlfriend, and she greeted you with a warm welcome and a quick embrace.

When you turned your eyes to the pitch, your heart sank as you realized the players were already standing on the field, in position and awaiting the starting whistle. You realized you would have no chance to try to wave to Christian to get his attention before the game started. Unless Mason had told him, he likely didn’t have a clue you were even in the stadium.

You were, however, thankful to see that Christian had still made the starting lineup, despite his run-in with Potter earlier in the morning. But as the whistle sounded out and the boys began moving around the pitch, it quickly became clear that he wasn’t playing up to his usual standard. He seemed to be two steps behind on every play, making sloppy touches that would give possession to the defender. He was in his own head, and it was affecting every move he made on the field.

Sophia and you didn’t talk much through the first half. She knew how intensely you typically watched the matches, but she noticed how quiet you were compared to the lively and rambunctious cheering you usually brought on game day.

When the whistle blew to signal the end of the half, Chelsea was trailing, 1-0. With Christian on the front line unable to focus enough to make a proper play, the entire offense struggled to create opportunities, and the whole team seemed to be lagging.

You watched as Christian walked sullenly toward the tunnel, head hung low. You knew he was frustrated with himself for his performance so far in the game, and you resented the part you had to play in that.

Sophia, noticing the solemn way you looked at your boyfriend, knew that something was off. She draped her arm over the back of your seat, asking you about your somber mood as soon as your attention had shifted away from Christian since he had disappeared down the tunnel. You sighed and began recounting the former night’s event to her in a quiet voice, hoping none of the other family members in the box were listening in. You told her about how Christian had come home, barely eating the dinner you had prepared before trying to leave the kitchen. You told her about the foolish words you had both let fly out of frustration, stupid accusations that neither of you meant. You told her how you were afraid that you and Christian had lost your “spark,” that feeling of never wanting to let the other go that every couple felt when they first got together. You told her that you were afraid that you didn’t know how to get it back.

You hadn’t even realized you were crying until a teardrop splashed on your hand. You used your fingers to wipe carefully under your eyes, trying not to smear the makeup you had hastily put on only a couple of hours before.

Sophia opened her mouth to address your concerns when something caught her eye over your shoulder. You turned to see that the boys were walking out of the tunnel, and you waited impatiently to try to catch a glimpse of Christian.

When he finally emerged, Mason’s arm was slung over his shoulders, holding him close as Mason seemed to be trying to give him words of encouragement. His head was still hung low. Mason squeezed his arm around Christian, turning him to face the stands once they were standing on the pitch, and pointed in your direction. A frown creased his eyebrows as his eyes followed where Mason’s finger was pointing.

When his eyes landed on you, his face softened immediately, the frown vanishing from his expression. His eyes grew big, his arms falling to his sides as he took you in, wearing the blue jersey that he knew bore his name across the shoulders. Mason ruffled his hair with a grin, walking away to let him have his moment, but Christian didn’t pay him any mind, only focused on you.

You raised your hand, giving Christian a shy wave. The faintest of smiles curled his lips, tainted with a hint of sadness. He brought his fingers to his lips, blowing you a short kiss before he moved further onto the pitch. He walked backward for a few steps, still looking at you before he turned and jogged to his starting position for the second half.

Sophia drew the arm that had been draped over the back of your chair back to her side, nudging you gently. She had a grin on her face when you looked over. “Yeah, that spark is still there. Don’t worry,” she reassured. You covered your face with your hand, trying to hide the blush that you knew was covering your cheeks. “You’ve just hit a rough patch. It happens to every couple, especially after you’ve been living together for a while.”

“Really?” you asked hopefully.

“Really,” she smiled. “It happened with Kai and I, too. A few months after he transferred to Chelsea and we moved to London, there was about a month where we barely ever saw each other. It took a screaming match and then us both crying on the floor of the kitchen with a bottle of wine for us to get past it.” The two of you laughed at the story, and you wiped another tear from your face. “But we were stronger after we got through it. And you and Christian will be too, I know it.”

She took your hand in hers and squeezed in an effort to comfort you. “Just remember to be intentional about spending time together. Life will get crazy from time to time, but if you keep pursuing each other, you’ll be okay.”

“Thank you, Sophia,” you smiled genuinely at her. “You really give the best advice.”

“Don’t mention it.” She pulled you into a side hug, over the arm of the stadium seats. As you pulled away from each other, the sound of the whistle rang through the air, and the second half was under way. You took in a big breath, letting it out slowly and praying silently that this 45’ would go better than the first had.

In a matter of minutes, it was clear that Christian was a completely different player than he had been in the first half. He was positioning himself well to make runs, taking much more controlled and calculated touches, and beating his opponents to the ball. Chelsea had made several great plays, pressing up the field and creating several breaks that resulted in near-goals. The whole stadium seemed to be holding its breath, hoping that it was only a matter of time before one of the presses ended with the ball in the net.

It finally happened in the 54th minute. With renewed fervor, the back line moved the ball around the defensive half before Thiago played the ball up the field toward the left wing. Christian broke through the opposing defense, carrying the ball up the line with players right on his heels. With quick feet, he came up to the side of the penalty box, crossing the ball toward the center.

A hush fell over the crowd as the ball floated through the air, toward a mess of players from both teams in the box. You and Sophia leaped to your feet, along with the rest of the audience, watching as the ball landed at Kai’s feet. With a quick touch to settle it, he shot the ball through the maze of defenders into the top corner of the goal. The keeper’s fingers just missed the ball, and the entire stadium erupted in a roar of cheering as the net shook with the ball’s impact.

Kai ran towards the sideline, embracing Christian in celebration, much the same way that you and Sophia clung to one another, jumping up and down as you yelled and cheered.

As the game resumed, Chelsea seemed to have hit their second wind, the game-tying goal driving them in their desire to get another. Several chances were created in the following minutes, the crowd letting out groans at the barely-missed shots that held the potential to propel Chelsea into the lead.

You were starting to get nervous as the game approached it’s last 10 minutes, not wanting the game to end in a draw after Chelsea’s incredible turn-around. You anxiously bit at the skin around your fingernails as you watched.

In the 86th minute, as fans from both sides were beginning to get restless, Reece played a quick ball through the line, Christian sprinting to catch up with it as he broke through the defense and drove quickly down the field. It was a one-on-one between him and the keeper now. He approached the penalty box swiftly as the keeper came out to meet him, trying to force a mistake. But Christian kept his head about him, taking a calculated touch to curve the ball around to the right of the keeper as he dropped to the ground in an attempt to block the shot.

The ball bounced off of the goalpost and across the line. Once again, the fans erupted in a chorus of applause and shouting. Christian sprinted back up the field, coming to stand at the sideline in front of where he knew you were sitting. The rest of the Chelsea boys ran up behind him, embracing him or ruffling his hair in congratulations. Ignoring all of the chaos around him as his teammates whooped and hollered, Christian locked eyes with you, tapping his hand over his heart.

You raised your fist to your lips, pinky pointed up as you kissed your hand. Christian mimicked your action. It was a silly thing the two of you did that had started back when you were still only friends and continued throughout your relationship. You would link your fingers together in a pinky promise, kissing your hands, as a reminder of the promise you made to always be there for each other.

The boys pulled Christian away from the sideline, still thumping him on the back as they yelled in celebration.

The last minutes of the game passed quickly, and Chelsea fans voiced their approval as the final whistle blew, signaling the game’s end in a 2-1 victory for the Blues. The players and staff for both teams made their way onto the pitch, shaking hands cordially, offering words of congratulations to one another, and embracing their own players. You and Sophia moved down toward the barrier that separated the seats from the field, waiting where the boys would usually come to greet their loved ones.

It didn’t take long for Kai to come running over, leaning up to bring Sophia into a sweet kiss. They smiled at each other, sharing quiet words as she congratulated him on his goal. You saw nothing but adoration in their eyes as they looked at one another, and the sight warmed your heart.

Kai looked over to you after a few moments. “Your lover boy will be over here any minute,” he laughed. “As soon as he can get all the guys to stop hounding him for his game-winning goal.” You giggled at his words, eyes still searching through the mass of people for him.

Christian finally emerged, pushing through the crowd in your direction. As soon as he set his eyes on you, he ran the last few yards, arms outstretched to pull you into an embrace. Not caring about the layer of sweat that covered his body, you leaned over the short barrier, wrapping your arms around his neck as your bodies finally met.

Unsatisfied with the space left between you, Christian carefully pulled you over the barrier separating the two of you. You squealed in surprise before he set you on the ground in front of him, still holding your body firmly, refusing to let go of you for fear that you could slip away.

His face was buried in your neck and you brushed your fingers over his damp skin to soothe him. His arms still kept a firm hold on your waist when he pulled back to look at you. His eyes were moist with tears when as he gazed down at you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I was being stupid, and I never should have—”

“Shhh,” you cut him off, cupping his jaw with your hand. You ran your thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes darted around your face, searching for any reassurance that the two of you were okay after the fight. “I know, Christian. It’s okay.” You saw the relief washing over Christian’s body as he pulled you into a gentle kiss, pressing his lips firmly to yours as he tried to communicate all of the things he was feeling.

“We can talk about everything when we get home, okay?” you asked softly, and he nodded, smiling down at you. “Right now, I just want to tell you how proud I am of you.”

The pink blush immediately painted his cheeks as he grinned sheepishly and hid his face in your shoulder. You giggled at his actions, knowing that he never took compliments well, yet you refused to stop telling him how highly you thought of him. You held the back of his head and felt him place a couple kisses to your shoulder before he stood up to look at your face again.

“I’m sorry I got you all sweaty,” he pulled the long-sleeved compression shirt over his hand, using it to wipe your neck off as you both laughed together.

“It’s fine,” you smiled at him. “You’ll just have to help me wash it off in the shower later.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised by your suggestive comment as a grin spread across his face.

The two of you waved to Kai and Sophia as Christian took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as you walked away from them.

He brought your intertwined hands up to his face, kissing the back of yours as you made your way toward the tunnel so you could leave the stadium.

[itsphoenix0724]

Promises Pt 2 (Rhysand x Reader)

Summary: You don't argue with your husband often, and never anything as serious as this. However, some things may be too hard to come back from. But, you can certainly try.

Part 1

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Hi loves! Thank you for all the love on Promises! I'm so so happy everyone liked it, and I got a lot of really positive feedback and interactions! Here is the awaited part 2! I hope you all enjoy where I've decided to take it and the ending! As always constructive criticism is welcome!

You found Mor when you arrived at Athelwood. You had reached out to her mind to mind and she came right away. You spent an hour crying collapsed in her arms cursing the world, the mother, the cauldron, and your husband.

You didn’t leave your bed for another two weeks.

Mor tried to convince you to eat, but you rejected the offer every time. All you did was stare grimly between the gap in the curtains. 

Mate. One word, four letters. Who knew such a small word could rip your heart to shreds?  

You couldn’t stop replaying your argument with Rhys over and over. “She is my mate and I don’t know what to do.” and “It's just more complicated” rattled against the walls of your brain like a twisted symphony. You could only shut your eyes and turn away from the dying sun to try to drown out the noise. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The Night Court was in absolute shambles. It had only been a few weeks, but Rhys quickly realized how greatly the absence of his queen was felt across the entire territory.

After his return from Amarantha’s rule, you had shouldered the majority of the workload to give him time to recover. Theoretically, it made sense. He was out of practice and you had been ruling the court for 49 years by yourself. However, he was just now realizing how out of practice he was.

Rhys had never been a particularly good diplomat.

He was a good leader and a fantastic battle strategist, but he needed more patience for paperwork and meetings.

You always did say he could win a war before he understood the workings of city planning.

Now, there was a pile of letters on his desk asking him when the services the Queen had usually provided were going to resume.

He didn’t realize how much you did daily. How much improvement you made over almost 50 years of ruling by yourself.

You had established a grief counseling service for the war, there was a refugee center you helped run for Illyrian women who needed shelter, and you and Cassian even made biweekly visits to almost all of the Illyrian Camps to ensure they were upholding the new laws about wing clipping. You were even fielding talks with Keir in the Court of Nightmares.

You always did hate the way Rhys chose to handle that.

It was the way his father had taught him and his grandfather had taught his father, and even though you hated Keir, you hated seeing the rest of the court punished.

You had established an exchange program of sorts. Apparently, you had allowed a select few merchants to come to Velaris almost monthly to sell their goods, and you had a group of 20 children that would come attend schools in the City of Starlight. The work kept piling up, he had so many letters marked urgent on his desk that he was starting to go cross-eyed.

The only thing that he could think of was that he failed you. He failed his court, and there was nothing but deep unsettling loneliness clawing its way through his ribcage and straight into his heart. The only thing he had been trying to do was reach you. He had been trying to talk to you through your mind but he was met with cool obsidian walls banning him from entry. 

Then, there was the matter of the unanswered mating bond pulling in his chest. 

He never wanted Feyre. At least not in the same way he wanted you.

He never intended to accept the bond, but he wanted to help her. She had brought him back to his family. To his Queen. He refused to let her waste away in Spring. He thought he could use the mating bond as an excuse to get her away from Tamlin, and once she was settled he could break it off and set her free.

He had made the stupid mistake of not being honest with you in the first place.

He didn’t want you to scent the mating bond and get the wrong idea, so he stayed away for the week until he could finalize his plan.

Instead, he made the mistake of not telling you and it seemed like he was having an affair.

It had been a fair assumption to make, given his piss-poor excuse for an explanation, but the thought of being with another person made him sick to his stomach. Running his fingers over the band of your ring he knew he had to fix this. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You distantly felt Mor sit down on the bed. A soft caring hand brushes through your hair as she calls your name softly. You turn, and blink up at her with weary eyes.

She sends you a sad tight-lipped smile before telling you why she disturbed your hibernation. 

“We need your help.” She says it so softly you almost don’t hear her, “Please. The Court is running itself into the ground. Your people need you,” she pauses again like she doesn’t know if she should say what comes next. “Rhys needs you.” You bury your head back into the pillow and allow yourself to relish in the darkness a minute longer. 

“Winnow us to the House, and then give me an hour.” Mor’s face lights up with a blazing victory as she reaches out to grab your hands, and then deposits you in the Oueen Suite at the house of wind.

You flinch at the bright light and want nothing more than to crawl back into bed and wallow in the crushing sadness. 

But you are Queen of the Night Court, and you made an oath to your people before anything else.

You refuse to let them be punished for the mistakes of their stupid High Lord.

The House had run you a bath, and you sink into the boiling water trying to scrub away the remains of the previous two weeks. Once you’re done you sit down at the vanity in your room and go through the motions. You brush your hair, apply some makeup, and put on all the pieces of jewelry that mean the most to you like armor.

It feels like you’re suiting up for battle to go see your husband. The floor-length black slip you chose might as well have been made of steel.    

You do your best to pointedly ignore your bare ring finger. 

You stare at the crown you never quite thought you were worthy of. Of course, the cauldron would make Feyre Rhys’s Mate. She was the curse-breaker and Rhys was the most powerful High Lord in history. 

What were you?

You push the negative thoughts away and rest the crown on your head. You need to focus on your people. They were the important factor here. You stand up and find Mor in the hall, She looks over you with immense approval before winnowing you down to Velaris.

You walk around the city before you face Rhys at the townhouse.

You visit your favorite bakery, you visit all of your charities, and you walk along the Sidra greeting the townspeople as you pass. It fills you with renewed vigor as they greet you with their warm smiles. It makes you feel like you deserve to be here. 

This is your city, nothing can take you from it. 

The door to the townhouse opens for you, and the first thing you smell is the stench of old wine. You wander through the house and find that Rhys hasn’t moved any of the things you made in the kitchen before you left. You found Rhys leaning over his desk. He must be out of it because he doesn’t hear your approach.

He looks tense, the muscles in his back are as taught as a bowstring. His hair looks run-through and ragged even from behind, and you bet if he turned around there would be dark purple half-moons under his eyes.

You clear your throat and Rhy’s head shoots around to look at you. You’re expecting anger, regret, and maybe even resentment to reflect in his eyes. The only thing you see looking back at you is palpable remorse. He pushes back from his desk so hard that his chair knocks over. He rushes over to you and looks like he’s going to wrap you in his arms, but he drops them at the last second. Rhy is staring at you like he doesn’t believe you’re real and his violet eyes have taken on a glassy tint. 

“Hi,” you mumble carefully, not quite sure if you’ll spook him into triggering another argument. You not knowing how to act around your husband is an unpleasant foreign feeling. Rhys clears his throat and lets out a teary sort of laugh

“Hello my darling,” he tries to smile and fiddles with his hands in a way that is so uncharacteristically like Rhysand it makes your heart lurch for him in your chest. “I’m assuming there’s a lot you want to talk to me about.” You nod and Rhys casts his eyes downward before he nods at you in encouragement. 

“Do you want a divorce?”  It’s the first thing you blurt out, but you’re not sure if you want to know the answer. You have to know, you need to know before you can continue on further. If Rhysand was going to rip out your heart again you’d rather him just get it over with already. Instead, he looks up at you with the most alarmed look on his face you’ve ever seen, and he reaches out to grab your hands in his.

He opens his mouth and then closes it again before he drops to his knees before you. 

“No love, I do not want a divorce. I never want to be separated from you ever again,” He presses kisses into your knuckles “Please, let me explain myself.” He looks up at you in permission and you give a subtle tip of your head. “I never wanted Feyre. Ever. I only needed the mating bond to help save her. I was always going to reject the bond after she was safe.” You hesitate, and he can see the trepidation in your eyes. “Please believe me,” Silver lined the bottom of his violet eyes

“But why,” your voice cracked, and the sobs you’ve held in through you’re entire time apart came rushing out of your chest like hot lava. “The cauldron gave you a mate that matches your power. I’m just me. I’m nothing.” Rhys rises from his knees and holds your face in his hands.

Claiming and steady so he can soothe your sobs. 

“Damn the cauldron. I love you to the end of this earth, and the next earth beyond it. I made mistakes, and I handled this situation completely the wrong way. I am so sorry Darling. I am lost without you, when you’re not here I am missing half my heart. Please, come home.” Another sob bubbles up from your throat and your husband pulls you against him, rubbing soothing circles into your back and apologies into the crook of your neck. Once you both calmed down he pulls back from you and offers you your ring. The sight almost makes another sob bubble in your throat. “Well? Could you forgive me?” 

You nod and Rhy’s whole body almost sags in relief at your words as he slips the sapphire back onto your finger. It’s like a void in your soul has been filled.

You and Rhys certainly still have a lot to talk about and a lot to work on, but you know you’ll do it together.

Just like you always have. 

“So, I heard the Court is falling to pieces without me?” You look back at Rhys’s desk in question and he sends you a guilty look in return. He scoops you up in his arms, despite your shout of protest, and starts walking you toward your shared bedroom. 

“Love you don’t even know how lost I am without you, but we can get to that after I’m done thoroughly apologizing to my Queen.” His voice sends a shiver of dark promise down your spine, and you have the settled feeling in your stomach that everything will turn out just fine.

[bsd-rewatch]

Hello!! This week we are going to start the rewatch of season 2 of Bungo Stray Dogs. It's incredible how one whole season already flew by!!!

Thank YOU so much for keeping up with the event for twelve weeks straight. Your participation and enthusiasm keeps the event going and makes the fandom lively and enjoyable for everyone, so thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your contribution!! (人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+

We would also like to remind that everyone is encouraged to watch the anime as they please: feel perfectly free to join the rewatch late, watch the episodes on different days, or skip episodes. That means, if you hadn't the chance to participate so far but would still like to, you are more than welcome to jump in as the new story arcs start!

Lastly, as three months have now gone by, we would love to hear from you too. If there's any aspect of the event you believe could be improved, if you would like to offer any constructive criticism or changes suggestions, we would be more than happy to hear from you!! Feel free to shoot us an ask.

We hope you will join us in rewatching the second season, too!! Tune in next Wednesday to watch the exciting prologue of the Dark Era arc *+:｡ヾ(*＾ワ＾* )ノ｡:+*

[soapsandbubbles]

image creds to @kociamieta

cw: human!reader, angel partner, gn!reader, worship kink, angel eats you out, sweetheart used as a nickname. lmk if i missed anything. masterlist.

angel!partner who gets so excited around you that it's hard to keep their human form straight. sometimes their true form shines through and their face dips into the uncanny valley. they're not trying to scare you, they just can't help it!!

angel!partner who loves you so much, they stop as many bad things from happening to you as possible. bad luck? nope, blessings keep you safe. promotion at work? well, the lord - and your doting lover - work in mysterious way, don't they?

angel!partner that doesn't have genitalia the way that humans do. nothing to penetrate and nothing that penetrates, so sex is mostly eating you out. they absolutely love to eat you out, and it's often for their own pleasure.

"p-please! a-angel, i can't take anymore!!"

"please, sweetheart? just a few minutes more?"

angel!partner who likes to use straps on you. watching you squirm on the bed, tears in your pretty eyes, moaning and crying for them. while they don't feel anything from it, they absolutely love pleasuring you <3

angel!partner who is the BEST at aftercare. soft cloths to clean you up, gentle words and praises, kissing away any bruises or marks or hickeys (they don't like hurting you, but if you're into it, and you're sure...)

angel!partner who wants to worship you like the deity you are. resting their head on your thighs, pressing soft kisses into the soft flesh, murmuring over and over how much they adore you.

"i love you, i love you, i love you... i just want to worship you, for the rest of all time..."

angel!partner who, when they finally show you their true form, is incredibly nervous and shy. they don't want to scare you, or anything like that. they just want your love, and they're scared that you won't find them beautiful anymore. (but you secretly think that their true form is sexier than their disguise.)

angel!partner who let you sit on their lap, and will gently wrap their wings around you. no need for extra blankets or a heater in winter, because they're like a living heater. beings made out of pure cosmic energy tend to run hot.

angel!partner who loves you, oh so very much. and when you finally die, they lift your soul out of heaven and right back into their lap, by their side for all of eternity <3

thank you for reading!! please reblog if you enjoyed it. no hate, constructive criticism welcome.

[yuheartss]

𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑

IN WHICH — saiki k meets a girl with a pink afro, she reminds him of cotton candy …

౨ৎ WC? 742 wordss

౨ৎ warnings! - fem!reader, fluff, unedited , lowercase intended!

౨ৎ a/n: I think I made him a little ooc but I hope not.. if I did please tell me! constructive criticism is welcome js don’t b mean₊ ⊹₊ ⊹

you always hung out with Kaidou, not because he was your only friend or anything— it’s just that he was just one of the people who didn’t give you weird looks about your skin or hair, you moved to Japan when you were in junior high and been here ever since your mum got a job transfer

today, kaidou was going to introduce you to his friends from his class, of course, you were very nervous you thought of the worst possible situations ever. What if they make weird comments about my hair?? You thought, twisting some of your curls around your finger

Kaidou seemed to notice your nervousness and patted you back, “don’t be nervous! My friends are great- not saying you aren’t, your like really great but- it’s just- you know..” you laugh at his attempt to cheer you up “thanks kaidou” you chuckled now getting up from the bench you were on

his friends finally showed up, a big guy with a strangely enormous butt chin, a pink haired boy who looks like he’s so done with everything, three girls (one which was glowing somehow??) a boy with red hair, and two other purple haired boys

“You sure do have a lot of friends Kai…” you muttered as he awkwardly chuckled, you stood up straight as a foot shorter yet glowing girl approached you with a brunette and orange brown behind her, the glowing girl took your hands in hers “your so pretty! I love your hair! What’s your name? I’m teruhashi kokomi!”

Teruhashi gave you a smile that blinded you for a bit but you could just see that her face screams not as pretty as me but your still good looking you gave her an awkward smile “hi.. I’m l/n y/n nice to meet you teruhashi and thanks!”

Teruhashi introduced the shorter girl as Yumehara and the girl to her left as chi sati she waved at you while she was scarfing down a double cheeseburger now this this is what impressed you she had a whole bag full just waiting to be devoured

Then teruhashi introduced the red haired boy, which everybody called him hairo so you will too then both of the purple boys greeted you themselves the firsts name was koboyasu and the second was Toritsuka; almost immediately they began to share both of their life story with you

You stood there with all your weight on your right leg slowly tuning out the boys and the rest of the gang why are they telling me their life story!?! I don’t care! You thought, whining softly underneath your breath someone nudges your arm softly you looked up at the also pink haired guy he nods his head at you and walks off “follow me” you hear a voice in your head

You turn back to the crew then at kaidou then you look back at the guy you hesitantly take a step forward “good grief..we’ll be back they won’t even know we’re gone” you pause for a sec and mutter an ok before walking away with him wait what if he kidnaps me?! What the hell am I doing—

“Don’t flatter yourself” he says, walking in front of you, your eyebrow twitched in annoyance to which a faint smile lands upon his lips “so where are we going?” You ask now walking side by side

“I was going to the convenient store before they showed up and dragged me along, so that’s where we’re going” he informed you looking at your hair, he must’ve been staring for a while because you noticed “what?” You questioned him getting a little defensive

“Your hair…” he began as he opened the door to the store for you “what about it?” You say following him as he went to get his snack of choice, he picked out some coffee jelly that came in three

He didn’t answer, you sighed and went to get a dessert too “you know…I’ve never even asked for your name..” you say just know realizing that you’ve been with this teen and never asked he turned to you as he payed for both of your treats “Saiki”

“Okay saiki, tell me what you were gonna say about my hair” you semi demand and quietly thanking him for buying the treat, you can clearly see him hesitating “just say it man” you hurry starting to get impatient

“….it reminds me of cotton candy”

[oleander-nin]

A Willful Soul

A/N, not important: Sorry it's so short, these are a bit harder to do. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: kidnapping, manipulation, yandere themes, dark themes

Words: 876

Summary: The yandere ROTTMNT boys find out you're not as scared of them as you should be

Mikey:

When he first starts showing his more obsessive side, he’s slow. He doesn’t want to scare you off. But the moment he realizes you’re completely into it? He loses all self control and goes straight for it.

Is constantly near you, doing things for you, and trying to be as sweet as possible. He isn’t as worried about trying to hide his obsessive tendencies. He wants you to be showered in all the love he can give.

Is more lenient. Instead of being locked in his room, you have full reign of the lair. Instead of being chained to him at night, he just throws an arm over your waist and holds you tight and calls it good. He trusts you. He loves you more than anything.

He’s constantly painting you, cooking for you, and complimenting you. You’re his world, and once he realizes how unbothered you are, he starts getting much worse. He’d keep you close and make sure you knew how much he loves you, and drills it into you how you can never leave him. You were both meant to be.

As the days go by, he starts to fall further and further into his delusion. He gets more clingy and obsessed as the days go on, and you completely feed into his insanity.

He’ll keep you close, never wanting to leave your side. After all, you love him just as much as he loves you. Right?

Donnie:

He’s skeptical at first. He’s very aware his possessiveness and controlling nature is not only off-putting, but down right scary. He thinks you’re trying to play him the fool and trick him into letting you escape. And he swears he won’t fall for it.

That’s not to say he doesn’t take full advantage of your willingness. Whether it’s by giving you multiple trackers, or by completely reprogramming your phone to let him do what he wants, he’ll do it.

He keeps you even closer than he does normally, his overthinking making him convinced this is all an act. It takes a long time for him to finally warm up to the idea of you being genuine. Once he does though? He’s over the moon.

He subconsciously pushes your boundaries, toeing the line of how much you’ll allow, and seeing how badly you’d react if he does cross it. It’s less out of malice and more of him trying to get a gauge on how far he can go.

Is very pleased with the circumstances. He barely has to do any explaining before you’re already on board with whatever he wants. It makes him feel good, knowing how much you love him. He’d do everything for you.

But if it ever does end up being a trick? You’re never seeing the light of day again.

Raph:

He’s overwhelmed with joy once he realizes how easy you’re being. There’s no fighting, no yelling, no anything. Just complete willingness to be with him. And he didn’t even have to break you! How lucky is he!

Clings onto you. You’re constantly in his arms. He’ll carry you around the lair, not wanting to put you down. You love him, you deserve to be carried and have everything done for you.

Still majorly babies you. He’s paranoid you’ll hurt yourself. You trusted him so easily, and while obviously you would he’s not doing anything wrong, he’s still nervous you’d do the same with someone else.

Doesn’t let anyone near you due to this. He’ll intimidate and fight anyone who tries. You’re his, and he’s never letting you go.

He likes that he didn’t have to work at making you trust him. You’ll do anything he asks, and he adores it. He doesn’t have to do anything and you’re already completely on board.

It usually ends up with him completely coddling you, not letting you have a say in much. He knows what’s best for you after all, just trust him.

Leo:

Is elated once he realizes. He’s smug, pulling you close and bragging to everyone that even you know he’s in the right. A small part of his mind knows you might be lying, but he’s confident he can change your mind before you try anything.

The moment he figured out you weren’t fighting him, he kidnaps you. You’re obviously just as in love with him as he is with you, so why wait? He’ll just whisk you away now and keep you safe, loving you all the more.

He’s always by your side, pouting every time you look away. You agreed to be his, so act like it. He doesn’t like it when you don’t give him attention.

He shows off a lot to you, trying to prove his love and keep you close. He’s a bit paranoid you might change your mind and start resisting his love.

Is even more hesitant to hurt you if you mess up. He knows you’re not trying to escape or anything, and he doesn’t want to scare you off. His punishments will be much leaner, not wanting to make you upset. He apologizes and loves on you for hours after, trying to convince you to still love him. He never wants you to leave him, and he’d do anything to keep you.