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#or at least triggers that i can plan around
danielnelsen · 1 month
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there’s so much i wanna do this week/month/etc but i’m just too sick, i have no energy, i can’t sleep, i’m constantly nauseous and headachey and on the verge of a migraine, i’m stressed and irritable and impatient and panicky…….how tf did i survive nearly 5 years of high school untreated if i can’t even manage this when i don’t have any major obligations rn
#at least i finally got my meds so hopefully i feel a little better soon#although i’m now on 20 pills per day which is Just Great#whenever i’m in remission it’s nice to just. forget sometimes that this can happen at any time#kinda wish i had the typical kinda chronic illness that people talk about with ‘flares’#or at least triggers that i can plan around#the other times have all had an easily identifiable stressor tho tbf. idk what caused this one#the first time was whooping cough and the next few were all very major life stressors like my cat dying right after i started uni#and i think also towards the end of my honours thesis?#but this…….there’s no major stress right now. nothing wildly beyond normal#i’m a little concerned about my joints tho. they’ve been so much worse than normal the last few months#so i’m kinda worried i’m developing rheumatoid arthritis (also an autoimmune disease and it runs in the family specifically)#so if that’s happening then it could set my thyroid off? probably should get to the doctor at some point#obv i’m seeing my endo for thyroid stuff. but i should see my gp and get her to run all the autoimmune blood tests again#i’ve done that before but it’s been a few years and my ankles and knees are so painful i can’t even walk properly a lot of the time#BUT I JUST WANNA DO THINGS I ENJOY AND I CANT AND I WILL CONTINUE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT IT#‘oh you’re so lucky you don’t have as many obligations because you’re chronically ill’ ha ha ha please swap lives with me immediately#personal#but seriously. i wasn’t diagnosed until i was nearly 17 and we can trace it back to whooping cough when i was 12#so it was the last half of year 6 and then all of years 7-10 and the start of year 11 of just being. uh. ‘very lazy and complaining a lot’#and TEACHERS joking about me and my sister (who was dealing with an arguably more severe undiagnosed disease) missing so many classes#wow so funny pdhpe teacher who’s supposed to be teaching is about health#and the thing with being a mentally ill teenager is that hyperthyroidism can just look like a very severe anxiety disorder#so i didn’t go to the dr until i was too sick to go to school at all. and luckily had a good dr who did a blood test#i’m just rambling now because i can’t sleep and i don’t wanna lie here doing nothing#might go play pvz or something. that’s been keeping me entertained
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nuclearnyx · 1 year
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people who don't use the tags to be sad and vent are so powerful lmao couldn't be me
#real talk it has been BAD lately#the POTS has gotten MUCH worse lately#for example. yesterday i had to call someone to bring me a sports drink because sitting up in bed made me almost lose consciousness#like i am DREADING leaving the house because im having minor-ish episodes at least twice a day#and the new scary part is that when i have an episode i cant speak well#i can say a few words at a time but thats it#which is scary and also frustrating because people tend to freak out and ask a lot of questions and its hard to answer#and it sucks because i know i cant do certain things when im home alone anymore#like showering (huge trigger) or cooking (also trigger sometimes) because its honestly kinda dangerous now#its very humbling to have to lie down on the floor because painting for 20 minutes triggered an attack#and a lot of the people around me arent handling it well so thats a whole OTHER set of issues#im honestly thinking of writing out a 'what to do during an episode' plan for the people in my family to make it easier#and another 'how we explain this to people' plan because everyone is giving different accounts and kinda minimizing to not scare people#which i get because it all SOUNDS very scary and we dont want people to be worrying (and frankly bothering us about it)#but if i show up to an event or whatever and have an issue or i start using a mobility aid (maybe?) they'll get weird#ANYWAYS this all sucks but also im hanging in there (and yes my doc is on top of this dont worry)#its going to be really interesting to see how things play out over the coming weeks and months
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bweirdart · 8 months
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EVENT OVER! THANKS EVERYONE WHO JOINED IN U ALL DID AN AMAZING JOB <3 SEE YOU AGAIN NEXT YEAR IN MARCH FOR #mARTch OR NEXT OCTOBER (2024) FOR A NEW SET OF PROMPTS!!!!!
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OC-TOBER 2023 PROMPTS!!
general tag: #oc-tober / my prompts: #bweirdOCtober
F.A.Q:
Do I have to draw EVERY DAY?
NO! I highly encourage skipping as many days as you need to avoid burnout! There are 10 main days in the event (marked with a ⭐ star) that you can focus on if you don't feel up to doing every day, or you can choose your own adventure and just do the prompts you personally like!
Do I have to DRAW?
NO! You can also write fanfiction snippets, repost older art that fits the theme, tweet headcanons/backstory, roleplay in-character as your oc ... genuinely anything that fits the theme is OK!!
Can I start early?
YES! I understand some people work at a slower pace and might need a head start! So long as you wait until October to post it, you can start working as early as you need!
I missed the start of the event .. do I have to catch up?
NO! Please don't stress about days you missed, you're allowed to just skip to the current prompt!
RULES:
1. MAKE FRIENDS! The community is the best part of this event .. please try to follow new people, ask questions about ocs you like, compliment people's styles, ask friends to create with you, etc!
2. TAKE IT EASY! Skip a day if you're tired, busy or just not interested in the prompt. You don't have to catch up on it later. This is supposed to be fun, not work!
3. BE KIND! Please think about the people around you - don't give people unwarranted harsh criticism, content warn for themes/imagery in your work that could trigger someone, don't create anything hateful, etc
MORE:
text version / tips and ideas on bweird.art or below ↓
star = main prompts | no star = optional
INTRO WEEK
1: FAVE OC ⭐
-Which of your characters is your favourite right now?
2: NEW OC
-Who is your newest OC?
-Design a new OC right now
3: OLD OC ⭐
-Do you remember the first OC you ever made?
-Is there an OC you haven't drawn in a long time?
4: RE-DESIGN
-An OC who has changed a lot over the years
-Take an old OC and update their design right now
 
BACKSTORY WEEK
5: RELATIONSHIPS ⭐
-Who is important to your OC?
-Do they have a partner?
-Do they have a best friend?
-Are they close to their family?
6: SYMBOL
-What imagery do you associate with your oc?
-Are there any colours, flowers, animals or concepts that symbolize them?
7: PERSONALITY ⭐
-How does your OC behave?
-What are their positive traits?
-What are their negative traits?
-Are they extroverted or introverted?
8: PAST
-What was your OC like as a child?
-Where did they grow up?
-Are there any significant moments from their past that shaped who they are?
9: FUTURE ⭐
-Does your OC have a goal they're working towards?
-What will your OC look like when they get older
-Do you have a planned ending for their story?
PALETTE WEEK
10: pumpkin patch palette
#251604 #1E3807 #5B5E1A #A2A657 #EBA00F #F3ECCC
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11: hot cocoa palette
#520B13 #BB382E #E27E6D #88392C #AF5D40 #E1AFA4
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12: midnight zone palette
#000007 #000049 #183885 #004D4F #0E8788 #FFF1C0
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13: peachy palette
#DE6450 #DB9171 #FFC1AE #FEE1AD #FFF2E0 #D9D8D8
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14: haunted house palette
#552506 #6E25AA #ED690B #F925A0 #8F8BA7 #A6C1AA
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FUN + GAMES WEEK
15: MEME ⭐
-Post memes that remind you of your OC
-Draw your OC as a meme
-Fill out a character meme (classic deviantart style)
16: FOOD
-What is your OC's favourite food?
-What is their least favourite?
-Can they cook?
17: EYES-CLOSED ⭐
-Draw your OC with your eyes closed! No cheating!
-Write a scene without looking at the keyboard! Keep the typos in!
18: SWAP
-Swap the style or aesthetic of two of your OCs
-Species or gender swap AU
-Invert an OC's colour scheme
19: INSPIRATION ⭐
-Is your OC inspired by any pre-existing characters?
-Are there any particular songs/lyrics that inspired something about one of your OCs
-Do you have a dedicated pinterest moodboard for your character?
20: INVENTORY
-What does your OC carry around with them on a daily basis?
-Are there any objects that have sentimental value for them?
-Loot drop for your DnD OC
 
FRIENDS WEEK
21-25:
There's no specific daily prompts for this week, but here are some ideas you can try ...
-Art trades with friends who are doing the event with you
-Your OC interacting with a friend's OC
-Gift art for someone whose OCs you like
-Work together and collaborate on something with a friend
-Roleplay an OC scene together with someone
 
HALLOWEEN WEEK
26: FEAR ⭐
-What is your OC scared of?
-Draw one of your OCs trying to scare the others
27: MONSTER
-Do you have any monster OCs? (eg: vampires, werewolves, creatures, ghosts...)
-Draw a human OC as a monster
-Design a new monster
28: TRICK
-Play a trick on an OC
-Do you have an OC who would play tricks on people?
29: TREAT
-What is your OC's favourite halloween candy?
-Give an OC a special treat to make up for yesterday's trick
30: MAGIC
-Do any of your characters have magical powers?
-Give an OC a magical or cursed artifact
-Create a magic-using OC like a witch or wizard
27: COSTUME ⭐
-What is your OC dressing as for halloween?
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soaps-mohawk · 3 days
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go
Summary: Things have gone wrong in your pack's absence. Can they make it back in time before irreparable damage is done? Can they fix the damage that's already been dealt?
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 10,232...oops
Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, panic attacks, very descriptive scenes of panic and anxiety, very heavy emotionally in the beginning, major invasions of privacy, hurt/sort of comfort, very brief mention of violence and death, and most importantly: fluff
A/N: Yeah, so this one kind of got away from me. It's definitely one of my favorite chapters now, and it's definitely the longest so far. It's pretty heavy, so plan something fun afterwards because it will hurt. I tried to catch all the possible triggers, but of course, if I miss one let me know. I promise things will begin to take a turn for the happier after this, at least for a bit. Picks up pretty much right where chapter 17 left off.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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You’re shaking. Your breaths are coming in gasps as you stare at your open door. There’s no scent in the air, nothing that would give you a hint of who invaded your space, or if they’re still in there. You should leave, barricade yourself somewhere and call Dr. Keller, or even Kate. 
What could they do, though? Your pack won’t be home until tomorrow at the earliest. 
No one can help you. 
You slowly push your door open, ready to run in case someone is hiding inside. You stand in the doorway, scanning the small space, but there’s no sign of anyone. There’s still no scent either, just your own mingled with the slight chemical burn of scent blockers. Your eyes scan the room, looking for anything that might be new, anything that might be missing, anything that might be slightly out of place. 
The clothes on the floor are slightly rumpled, but you’re not sure if you did that in your haste to pull on shoes before you left, or if they’ve been that way since the knock sounded on your door. You lift your gaze to the ceiling, scanning it and that’s when you notice it. The cover over the vent is slightly out of place. You likely wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been paying attention, if you hadn’t looked. 
The thought sends a chill running down your spine. 
You keep your eyes on the vent as you grab your desk chair, kicking clothes out of the way as you move it under the vent. You stand on the chair, reaching for the vent, but it’s not quite enough. You shove the chair to the side, taking everything off your desk before you pull it under the vent. You climb up on shaky legs, your heart thudding in your chest as you remove the vent cover. 
Nausea twists at your stomach as your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp. There, strategically placed between two of the gaps in the vent cover, is a camera. It’s small, and would have been invisible just staring at the vent from below. You feel like you might be sick as you pull it free from the vent cover, staring down into the tiny lens. 
How long has it been up there? 
You drop the camera onto your desk, your fingers shaking and trembling as you feel along the edges of the vent, checking for anything else that might be hiding up there. You replace the cover after you find nothing, a sense of dread filling you. 
Had the guys put it up so they could watch you, make sure that you’re safe? Had they put it up there before you arrived? You think about all the times you’ve changed in your room, your heat. 
You climb down from the desk, tugging it further towards the center of the room before you climb back up, unscrewing the cover off the light. You check the bulb, looking for any cameras or recording devices. You screw the cover of the light back on after finding none, a quiet sob leaving your lips as you look around your room. 
You close the door and lock it before you begin your search, checking every corner and piece of furniture for cameras or recording devices. You empty the dresser and closet, checking every drawer and corner for anything suspicious. 
You pull recording devices from under your desk and the back of your nightstand, the adhesive still fresh enough they pop right off. A cold sweat has overtaken you as you find another recording device and another camera, adding them to the growing pile on your desk. 
A quiet sob of fear leaves your lips as you check the bathroom, tearing your room apart to check every inch. You search up a tutorial on YouTube, using your phone to check for more possible cameras that you might have missed. 
You stare down at the pile of cameras and recording devices on your desk. Someone entered your room and planted them while you were with General Shepherd. It had all been deliberate. Get you away from your room and distracted so they could enter and set up the devices. You wonder if it’s all part of some sick plan, some way to ensure things are going well with your pack. General Shepherd had been very interested in your mark, invading your space without a moment of hesitation to see it firsthand. You would have shown him, had he asked to see it. Instead he’d just done it himself, as if it was nothing. 
Your hands are shaking as you find a ziploc bag in the mess you’ve made of your room, putting the cameras and recording devices into it. You drop it onto the floor before stepping on it, listening to the crack of metal and plastic and glass under your shoe. Tears slip down your cheeks as you pick up the bag of broken pieces, taking it to the bathroom. You hide it far in the back of the cupboard beneath the sink, piling things around it and on top of it to keep it hidden. 
You stand in the doorway of the bathroom, your skin crawling as you stare at the mess. You don’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own space. The thought of someone breaching the sacred space, entering your room without a second thought to put up cameras makes your stomach churn. 
Where will you go? You can’t just leave, find somewhere else to feel safe. What if they did the same to the guys’ rooms? There could have been an entire team of people that came in and put cameras up all over the barracks. A sob leaves your lips as you rush to the door, double checking it’s locked before you shove the dresser against it. You flip your desk up to cover the window as much as it can, just in case anyone tries to climb in.  
You sink to the floor in the middle of the disaster that has become your room, sobbing quietly. You want your pack home, you want to feel safe again. You glance at your phone where it’s sitting on a pile of shirts, afraid to even touch it. That woman could have done anything to it while you were with General Shepherd. What if they’re trying to call you and they can’t reach you? 
You should try to reach Dr. Keller, tell her what happened, get her to check if there’s anyone lurking around the barracks that shouldn’t be. What if they try to attack her, though? Can she defend herself? You don’t know if she can fight or not. What if she gets hurt because of you? She could ask someone else on base to look, but what if they were involved in it? What if it was someone already on base that had done it? The thought nearly makes you sick. 
You’re scared to leave again. What if they’ve noticed you found the cameras and come back while you’re gone? What if they come back while you’re here? 
The tears flow freely as you sob, too afraid to even move. You can feel it, the panic starting to bubble up again, the fear welling inside you. Your muscles begin to tense, shoulders pulling up near your ears as you try to defend yourself from this invisible threat. It’s an easy slope from fear to distress, and there’s no one to help you if you start distressing. You press your palms into your eyes, holding your breath to try and shock your body into something other than panic. 
You bite back a startled scream as a knock sounds at the door, your heart rate spiking again. 
“It’s just me,” Dr. Keller’s voice sounds through the door. “Ready for dinner?” 
You take a deep breath, staring at the dresser blocking your door. You’ll have to move it to get out, which she’ll likely notice. You could lie, you could lie easily, but you’re not sure you could keep it up right now. She’ll notice the tears, the obvious signs of panic and distress. She’ll want to know, and you can’t trust yourself not to spill everything. 
You should tell her about what had happened, but you know she’ll be disappointed. She’ll think you were stupid for leaving, for not even sending her a text. She’ll tell John when he returns, too. He should know about it, but there’s no way a high ranking General could arrive on base without them knowing, especially one that’s their commander. Maybe it had all been a test. Maybe they do know about General Shepherd and just forgot to tell you this was going to happen. 
Maybe Dr. Keller even knew about it, and didn’t say anything because she thought you knew too. 
“I-I’m not hungry.” You say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. 
There’s a pause outside the door for a moment, a beat of silence that’s too loud.
“Is everything alright?” She finally asks. 
“Y-Yeah.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just...not really hungry right now.” 
It’s silent again for a beat, making you hold your breath anxiously. 
“Are you sure? I can come back later, or bring you dinner.” She says. 
“I’m sure.” You swallow the tears welling in your eyes again. “I’ll grab a snack if I get hungry later.” 
“Okay...” She says, and you can almost see the frown on her face. “Text or call if you need anything, alright?” 
“Yeah.” You say, your voice cracking a bit. 
You regret it almost instantly, the urge to shove the dresser out of the way and fling the door open strong as you hear her receding steps down the hallway. You don’t want to be alone, but Dr. Keller can’t give you what you need. The tears start falling again, sliding down your cheeks as you flop onto your back, ignoring the way the edge of a book digs into your spine. 
You just want your pack back. You want John to scoop you up into his arms and wrap you in his warmth and soothing scent. You want Kyle and Johnny to squish you between them, sandwich you so tightly you’re scared you might burst. You want Ghost to wrap himself around you and offer you a blanket of protection against anyone who would even dare cast a glance in your direction. 
You just want to feel at home again. 
You want to be safe again. 
***
The emotional and physical exhaustion pushes you into the state between consciousness and sleep. You’ve moved to your bed, tucked under the covers and stuck between the wall and your giant bear, as if it could offer you some form of protection as you float between awareness and somewhere in the realm of sleep for a few hours.
You’re not sure what time it is, when the disruption comes. It takes you a moment to register why you’re awake. Some deep part of your brain is prickling, sending out warning signals to your body. Something’s happening, something’s wrong, something’s posing a threat. 
You hold your breath in the silence of the barracks, listening to the slow, quiet footsteps making their way down the hall. For a moment you think you might be imagining them, that you’re still asleep and dreaming. Your fingers pinch at your skin, nails digging in to confirm that you are, in fact, awake. This is really happening. 
Your heartbeat picks up, the bitter stench of fear that’s coated your room intensifying as the footsteps pause outside your door. You let out a quiet, shaky breath as you lay there, thinking up every time you checked the door in the last few hours to ensure it was locked and the dresser was still pushed in front of it. 
You cover your mouth as the door handle wiggles, catching on the lock. The whimper of fear threatening to rise catches in your throat as you hold your breath, your body trembling under your blankets. You should reach for your phone, send a text to Kate, call Dr. Keller, do something. Yet, you’re frozen in fear as the handle continues to wiggle before stopping. 
You don’t release a breath until the footsteps fade, a quiet whimper slipping from your lips. Someone just tried to get into your room. 
You’re panicking, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you burrow under your covers, barricading yourself between the wall and your bear, hoping you’ll be invisible in case they come back, in case they force their way in. You can’t fight, not after the day you’ve had. The best you can hope for is that your scent is rank enough in the room it’ll deter whoever is trying to get in. 
You need tomorrow to come, and fast. 
***
Daylight doesn't bring any sense of comfort. 
All it does is shed more light on the disaster your room has become, the physical representation of your internal thoughts and feelings. Your face feels puffy from crying, and there’s a bad taste in your mouth. You haven’t brushed your teeth since yesterday, nor have you showered, too scared to put yourself in such a vulnerable position. 
You glance at your phone, checking for missed calls, but there’s none. Dr. Keller will be by soon to get you for breakfast, but you’re not sure you can stand going to the mess. The idea of leaving your room, leaving it empty so anyone could just walk in and bug it or touch your things or hide out so they can take revenge on you for finding and destroying their cameras and recording devices has you paralyzed. 
That must have been what whoever entered the barracks last night had come to do. Maybe they thought you’d spend the night in one of the other rooms and they’d come to replace them. Or, maybe they wanted you to be in your room. Maybe that was the plan all along. 
The thought sends a chill running down your spine. 
You burrow back under your blankets, curling up against your giant teddy bear. You wish it was Price, that his arm would wrap around you and hold you close, keep you safe and protected in his arms. You’d take any of them right now, even Ghost. At least you know he’d protect you, especially if someone tried to enter the barracks without permission. 
You’re still lying there when Dr. Keller arrives. You stare at the dresser still pushed against the door, keeping you from opening it. Not that you really want to. You can’t stop the anxiety from taking over, bringing forward the image of Dr. Keller held at gunpoint on the other side of the door, trying to trick you into opening it so whoever tried to get in last night can finally do what they came to do. 
You know it’s a ridiculous thought. No one would be that stupid in broad daylight, and you doubt Dr. Keller would let something like that happen to her. She’d put up a fight, or at least you hope so. 
You can’t move the dresser without her knowing you’d pushed it against the door, which will only prompt questions. Questions you don’t want to answer. 
She calls your name through the door, concern lacing her voice. “Everything alright?” 
No. You want to scream it, tears gathering in your eyes again. You want to push the dresser out of the way, throw open the door and confess everything that’s happened in the last few hours to her. You want to bring her into your space, keep her there until your pack returns so you can feel even just an ounce of safety. 
But what if she gets mad? 
Leaving yesterday was stupid. Going off with some unknown beta without telling anyone was the dumbest thing you’ve done since your arrival on base. She’ll be disappointed and she’ll tell your pack and they’ll be disappointed that you didn’t say anything to her about it. Even if they knew it happened, they’d still be disappointed that you didn’t think to even question it, that you didn’t think to let Dr. Keller know what was going on. 
You made a stupid decision, and you won’t be able to take their disappointment and anger. Not after everything. 
“Yeah.” You call out, your voice shaking. “I-I’m alright.” 
You can tell she doesn’t believe you, even though you can’t see her. She probably has that look on her face she gets when she knows you’re not telling the whole truth. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. You’re afraid it might give out after the stress of the last few days. 
“Are you ready for breakfast?” She finally asks, likely giving up on trying to get any more details from you. 
You’re not hungry, and you know going to the mess will not end well. The risk of distressing is high, and the thought that any one in the mess might have been the intruder last night nearly sends you over the edge. One wrong glance in your direction might cause you to do something reckless. “I’m not hungry.” You finally say, pulling the blankets tighter around you. 
“Are you sure?” She asks. “Did you eat something last night?” 
“Yeah.” You lie, trying to keep your voice from breaking. “I had some snacks.” 
Her feet shuffle outside the door for a moment, and you can almost hear her sigh. “If you’re sure?” 
“I-I’m sure.” You reply. 
There’s a moment of silence before you get a response, your breath catching in your throat from the nerves. “Alright.” She finally says. “I got word that your pack will be landing in a couple of hours and we have permission to go out to the airfield and greet them. I’ll come back to get you when it’s time. If you need anything, call me.” 
You listen to her footsteps recede down the hallway, tears burning your eyes. You hate lying. You feel bad for keeping the truth from her, but the shame of revealing what you did is too strong. 
You hastily wipe your eyes, staring at the mess on your floor. You need to get your room back to at least its somewhat normal state, and you need to put yourself back to your normal state as well. If anyone gets any hint that something is wrong, you might crack, and you’re not sure you could handle the repercussions. 
You start with the desk, flipping it back the way it’s supposed to be and positioning it as close to where it was as you can get. You collect the books and other little things that go on it, trying to arrange it as close to how it normally is. You know they’ll notice if any little thing is out of place, if anything looks suspicious. You can blame some of it on cleaning, if they ask. You did some deep cleaning while they were away. That’s one way of putting it. 
You push the dresser back into place next, putting the drawers back in before starting on the clothes, putting everything back where it belongs. You make your bed last, the urge to nest gone completely. You’re shaking with exhaustion by the time you finish, tempted to crawl back into bed, but you know you can’t. Your pack is coming back, and you need everything to look like it’s fine still. 
They’ll notice. They’ll see it, and they’ll ask, and you’ll have to spill everything and face the shame and anger from being so stupid. 
Tears burn your eyes as you slip your desk chair under the door handle, making sure it’s secure before heading to the shower to get ready for your pack’s imminent return. You shower with the door open, getting done quickly to avoid being vulnerable for long. You try to make yourself look as decent as possible, ignoring the fact that there’s broken cameras and recording devices hidden under the sink. Eventually you’ll forget. Eventually it’ll fade from your mind and become nothing more than a forgotten nightmare. 
One of many. 
You toss your pajamas on the floor haphazardly, just to make things look more normal. You know if it’s too clean, that might raise some suspicions as well. You don’t want to give away that something happened, you don’t want to raise any suspicions. You just want things to go back to normal. You want your pack back, and you want to feel safe again. 
At least, until they have to leave again. 
You sink to the floor, leaning up against your bed as you wait for Dr. Keller to take you to greet your pack when they return. 
***
Every minute seems to drag on infinitely as you stare across the tarmac. They’ll be landing any minute. Any minute now the nightmare will be over and you’ll get to see your pack again after days of being apart. Finally, maybe, you can begin to feel safe again. 
You watch the plane as it comes in to land, your hands already trembling in anticipation. There’s a twisting in your stomach, you’re not sure if it’s worry or fear or excitement. They’re so close, so close you can almost smell them. Your omega is scratching at the back of your brain, your muscles twitching as the ramp begins to lower on the plane. You need to see them, you need to smell them, you need to ensure they’re alright. 
You can’t stop yourself. As soon as their boots hit the tarmac, you’re running. You don’t care if you’re breaking rules, you don’t care if the other soldiers get worried, or see you as a possible threat, you need to be in your alpha’s arms again. 
John grunts from the force of you hitting him, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You throw your arms around him, clinging to him as tight as you can. You’re whimpering, the quiet sounds dragging from your lips but you don’t care. You press your face into his chest, breathing him in. He smells like sweat and musk, the sharp metallic tang of gunpowder burning your nose. Yet, underneath it all, you can make out the earthy scent, the petrichor going straight to your brain. 
His arms wrap tight around you, squishing you up against his chest. His vest digs into your skin, but you don’t care. You can’t feel much of anything but relief. His breath fans your forehead as he leans down, his hand cupping the back of your head. He shushes you gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Tears fill your eyes as you cling to him, fingers gripping his shirt tightly like you’re afraid he might disappear again. If it wasn’t for the pain in your chest, you might have thought this was all a dream, that they might disappear suddenly and you’ll wake up alone again. 
“Easy.” John rumbles, gently stroking the back of your head. 
You cling to him tighter as his hand gets close to your neck, the thought of General Shepherd’s hand being so close to your neck where he could scruff you so easily making your insides squirm. 
He’s gone. He’s gone and your pack is here. 
“You’re alright.” John tries to reassure you, squeezing his arms around your trembling form. “I’ve got you.” 
You keep your face pressed against his chest, breathing him in, trying to get his scent to calm the raging storm within you. Your omega is still scratching at the back of your mind, a deep need to claw your way under John’s skin and into his body pushing at the front of your mind. You won’t be safe until you’ve been utterly consumed by him, until you’re safely tucked where no one can hurt you without going through him first. 
“Alpha,” You whine quietly, nuzzling your face against his chest. His clothes are in the way, a barrier against what you need. To feel him, to smell him fully again. 
“Easy.” He says, grabbing your hands as they shift towards the velcro straps of his tactical vest. “Let’s get back to the barracks first before we start that, sweetheart.” 
You don’t want to go back to the barracks. It’s not safe anymore. What if there’s someone waiting there for you to return? What if they get hurt because you don’t tell them what happened? What if you get hurt and cause them pain? 
“You’re alright.” John says, stroking the back of your head as he begins to ease your grip on him. “There’s a couple of muppets here who I think would like to greet you too.” 
Right. You’re so caught up in your alpha, you forgot the rest of your pack. You slowly allow yourself to be peeled away from John, Kyle right there to let you cling to him. 
And so you do. 
Your grip around him is just as tight, ignoring the uncomfortable ridges of his own vest. He holds you just as tightly, projecting his scent just a bit to try and calm you. Someone presses against your back, arms wrapping around both you and Kyle. The scent of citrus lined with beta invades your nose, Johnny squishing you into a sandwich between them. Your eyes squeeze shut as citrus and salty sea air blend together, the beta’s scents reaching deep into your brain to try and ease some of the tension in your body. 
They’re back. They’re safe. You’re safe. 
Now you just have to convince yourself of that fact. 
***
“How was she?” John asks as he approaches Dr. Keller. 
“Held it together longer than I thought she would.” She says. “Things took a turn yesterday afternoon. Shut herself in her room and wouldn’t come out. I don’t think she’s eaten anything since lunch yesterday either.” 
“We’ll get some food in her.” John says. “Thank you, for looking after her for us.” 
“Well, it is partly my job.” Dr. Keller shrugs. “Always happy to do it.” 
“Things will get easier, won’t they?” He asks. 
“Eventually. She’ll learn what coping mechanisms help and she’ll adapt.” 
“Hopefully at least one of us will be able to stay moving forward. I don’t like leaving her here alone.” He grimaces. 
“Separation is hard no matter what, especially with limited contact, on all parties involved.” She gives him a look. “I think the best thing you can do right now is just be together as a pack. Let those bonds heal and let her do what she needs.” 
“Thank you, doctor.” John says, shaking her hand. 
“Call me, if you need anything, as usual.” Dr. Keller says, watching his retreating back before getting into her car to make the short drive back to the medical center. 
John gets into the car waiting to take them back to the barracks, sitting next to Kyle who’s holding you straddling his lap, your face pressed into his neck. “That looks safe.” He remarks, even though they wouldn’t be going very fast, or very far. 
“Couldn’t get her to let go.” Kyle says, tightening his hold around you as the car begins moving. 
“You’re alright, sweetheart.” John says, rubbing your back gently. 
You turn your face to look at him, your eyes red from the numerous tears you’ve already shed, and the ones still trailing down your face. The guilt nearly makes him sick as he stares at you, feeling the slight tremble still from where his hand rests against your back. 
He’d never say it out loud, but he hates the fact they had to leave you, all four of them at once too. He’d fought, argued. He and Simon could have handled it on their own, even him and the two Sergeants would have been sufficient. Anything not to leave you by yourself during their first deployment. 
Despite his attempts, General Shepherd had been insistent that all four of them were necessary for this particular task. 
So, he had been forced to leave you behind on your own. It’s gone about as well as he expected, from the looks of it. He knew the separation would get to you eventually. The stress would grow to be too much. Every day he anticipated the news to come from Kate that you had distressed and your omega had taken over because he wasn’t there to help you. 
Every day he waited for the news that they’d lost you because the brass that put this initiative into place couldn’t understand why taking them all at once was a bad idea. 
Or maybe that was their plan all along. 
He couldn’t stop the conspiratorial thoughts running through his head as their mission dragged on. What if they were doing this on purpose? It wouldn’t be that strange to push the boundaries of what could be tolerated for the purpose of testing just how effective the initiative really could be. But pushing it like that so soon? Sure, he could rationalize it was possible. War could break out at any moment, which would require most military members to leave, to be separated from their packs for months or even years. His own team could be called out at any time for months working to eliminate a target and stop war from breaking out. 
Yet, he can’t help but feel there was something more, something deeper going on. What if they had called away for more nefarious reasons? What if getting you alone had been the reason behind General Shepherd’s insistence that all four of them were necessary for this particular task? He had refused to entertain those dark thoughts for too long, the fear of leaving you alone already itching in the back of his mind from the moment they boarded the plane to leave. 
He hadn’t been able to hide his relief at hearing your voice on the phone. Though you had sounded upset, and rightfully so, his worries had been lessened in knowing you were alright. You would tell them if something had happened. He knows you wouldn’t keep something that serious a secret. If someone had hurt you, or had tried to hurt you, you would tell one of them. 
Even though he trusts you, he does plan to speak to Dr. Keller more in depth later to ensure everything went as fine as she seemed to imply it did. Obviously their absence has been hard on you, but he needs to make sure you really will be alright, that you will be able to come back from the obvious distress this has caused you. 
***
You finally release your constricting hold on Kyle as the car pulls up outside the barracks. Even with them back, it still doesn't feel like home anymore, not after such sacred space was invaded so easily, so nonchalantly. Kyle climbs out of the car, setting you on your feet on the ground. You look between him and John, realizing Ghost and Johnny are still in the car. Your stomach falls as you realize what they're about to say, tears gathering in your eyes again.
“We still have some things we need to do.” John says, reaching towards you. 
You have the momentary urge to flinch from his touch, but you let his hand cup your cheek. “You're leaving me again.” You say, your voice breaking. 
John almost looks guilty. He almost looks upset by your visible turmoil. His hand drops from your cheek to your back, turning you towards the barracks. Your stomach twists as he guides you inside, the fear of someone being inside spiking. You know you're safe with John, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but you'd have to play dumb if they did catch someone inside. You’d have to act like you didn’t know someone had entered before, like you had been unaware of anything going on. That might almost be worse than telling them the truth. 
You inhale as he stops in front of your door, still closed from when you'd left with Dr. Keller. There's no chemical burn of scent blockers, just your scent in the air, and John's scent coming off him as he stands next to you. 
“We won't be long. Maybe an hour at most, and we'll only be across base. We'll come back and we can get lunch before our afternoon meeting. Then we'll just have reports to do, and you can sit in my office while I work on those, okay?” He says. 
Your brows pinch as you try to hold in your tears. You want to tell him, you want to reveal what happened, beg him not to leave you alone here again, but you can't. You can't face that shame, the disappointment you know he'll show on his face at the knowledge that you let that happen. You willingly left with a stranger without telling anyone. You let someone invade your pack's space so easily. They were gone for a week and you screwed everything up. 
“Tomorrow we'll spend the day together. All of us. I promise.” He says wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. 
Even though they're back, you still don't have them. 
You inhale shakily before nodding. “Yeah. Fine.”
John's thumb brushes your cheek for a moment before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 
You watch his back retreat as he leaves the barracks, leaving you alone again. You think back to when they’d left you, watching his back as he boarded the plane to be taken from you. You stare at the door as the cars drive off, a cold chill running down your spine. What if General Shepherd is still here? What if they're going to meet with him? What if he tells them he met with you while they were gone and they had no idea? 
Maybe you should have been honest with them from the start. 
You stare at your closed door, your hands shaking. What if there's someone inside? What if someone is waiting to take their revenge for you destroying the cameras. What if they put new ones up? 
You should have opened the door while Price was here so you could have at least screamed when someone would hear you. You back away from your door slowly, deciding to wait in the rec room. At least there you might have a chance. You could break a window and run, or at least have a higher chance of making it to a door. 
Would anyone help you? Would anyone come if you screamed? What if they’re all in on it? 
You're shaking as you sink onto the couch, sitting so you can see into the hallway. You want to see them coming so you can prepare yourself, or at least give yourself a chance to make an escape before it’s too late. 
You run through all the things Ghost has taught you in your head as you sit and wait, the minutes dragging by painfully slow. You can feel every second, though that may just be the anxiety and fear pulsing within you. You wish you could sleep, you wish you could relax, you wish you could do anything to make the time go by faster, but yet you remain hypervigilant, staring so hard you flinch at every little shadow your brain convinces you is moving. 
You’re not sure how long you sit there, tense and coiled, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. It can’t be more than an hour as John promised, yet it feels like a lifetime before you hear movement. 
You hold your breath as the barracks door opens, boots thudding with every footstep coming down the hall. You nearly whimper when a figure rounds the corner, before you let out a sigh of relief. 
“Ready for lunch, kitten?” Johnny asks, standing in the doorway of the rec room. 
You swallow the lump in your throat, your hands still clenched into fists. You're breathing hard, your entire body tense. You know you're reaching dangerous territory. Any more panic, you may start distressing. What a welcome home for them, coming back to a distressed omega. They're probably exhausted, and here you are making a scene. 
Hands close around yours. Warm, calloused hands apply gentle pressure, slowly uncurling your fingers. Your hands are shaking, trembling just slightly. 
“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, kneeling in front of you. When he moved, you're not sure. 
“I-I'm not...” You start, your voice shaking. 
“Ye need tae eat.” He counters, as if he had read your mind, expected the answer.  
He's right. You're beginning to feel it gnawing in your stomach, something deeper than the anxiety. With all the stressing you've been doing, you know you need to eat something. Being hungry is not helping that any, either. 
“I don't want to go to the mess.” You say quickly, the words almost mushing together incoherently. “Too much.” 
Johnny sits back, staring at you for a moment before nodding in understanding. “Alright. That's fair. I'll let the lads know.”
He stands up, leaving you alone in the rec room again. You listen to his footsteps fade, the door opening and closing for a moment. You hold your breath, practically on the edge of your seat. There's no reason they would make you go to the mess. You've eaten in the barracks many times before. 
You blame your worry on your hunger. You know omegas don't do well when hungry. Omegas don't do well being uncomfortable in general. 
Saying these last few days have been uncomfortable for you is a bit of an oversimplification. 
Footsteps echo down the hallway, a familiar hulking figure approaching the rec room. You never thought there would come a time when you would feel relief upon seeing Ghost. Yet here you are, the tension easing from your shoulders as he steps into the rec room. 
“They're grabbing us food.” He says, moving to sit in his usual spot in the chair facing the door. He sighs as he sinks into the cushions, and you can only imagine how tired he must be. 
And here you are making things worse. 
“You're stressed.” He says, staring at you. His eyes are still painted black beneath his mask, adding to the eerie vibe coming off of him. You're beginning to understand why they call him Ghost. “Stinking up the barracks.” He says, pulling out his phone. 
“Oh.” You say quietly, sinking in on yourself as you sit there. “Sorry.” 
You pick nervously at your sweatshirt as you wait for the others to return, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as they enter the rec room, food in hand. 
Johnny sits you on his lap as you eat, making sure you get your fill, likely aware that you haven't eaten yet today thanks to Dr. Keller telling on you. It's quiet in the room as everyone eats, even the TV off. They all look tired and tense, and you can only imagine what happened during their time away. The things they did, the things they saw. You wonder how much blood is on their hands now, hands that have touched you, hands that are holding you. 
They can just go off and kill people and come back and act like nothing has happened. 
You could almost laugh at how psychotic it all sounds. 
This is your life now. This is your new normal. 
“We have a quick meeting. Shouldn't take too long.” John says as they stand, Johnny placing you gently on your feet. 
You tug at your sweatshirt, avoiding his gaze. They're leaving you again. They won't be far this time, but still. You just want to curl up in bed with them and lay there until you feel safe again. 
Tomorrow, John had said. Tomorrow they will be yours. 
It might have been easier if you hadn't been told they were coming home until tomorrow.
***
You tense under the blanket as the door closes, quiet footsteps approaching your position on the couch. There's a quiet sigh as a figure drops to a knee in front of you, their figure visible as a shadow beneath the blanket. 
“Can you breathe under there?” 
You slowly lower the blanket just enough to peek over the top of it. John is kneeling next to the couch, his brows furrowed in a frown. You're in his office, having shut yourself in there while they went into the meeting. John had made you swear not to go snooping as he’d let you inside. You had promised, as you still feel no desire to dig through the likely classified files that were locked in the cabinets and on his computer. Instead you had parked yourself on his couch, burrowing under a blanket that smelled faintly of petrichor and tobacco smoke. 
“There she is.” He says as you peek above the blanket, gently running a hand over the top of your head. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?” 
“You left me.” You say quietly, trying not to burst into tears and confess everything. 
“I know.” He says, wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. “But we came back, just like we promised.” 
He is right in that regard, yet you can’t help the tears as they slide down your cheeks. The ache in your chest that had started to build over the last few days is still present despite their return. Everything is wrong. They feel too far away, too distant. Nothing is safe anymore, nothing is sacred, and they’re just acting like everything is back to normal. 
“Would you like to kneel for me?” He asks, his thumb stroking your cheek. 
You’re tempted to say no. For the first time you feel wary of your alpha. What kinds of things would you admit in your dazed state? If he questioned you, would you give him enough to put together that something had happened and you’ve been trying to hide it from him? Maybe it would help, though. It would at least ease some of the tension that’s built up. Maybe it could pull you back from the edge of distress you’ve been dangling over for almost two days. Maybe he’ll accidentally scruff you and you can forget the whole thing happened. 
The dark thought sends a chill down your spine. 
“Okay.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit. 
John offers you a hand, helping you up off the couch. You don't want to let go of his hand, you don't want to be parted from him. The omega in the back of your mind is screaming at you to get close to him and stay there for the rest of time. If he leaves you again...you're not sure you can handle it. 
He settles in his desk chair, getting everything he needs ready. He'll work on his reports while you kneel, a familiar position, a familiar situation. You've done this before several times. You're not sure why you're suddenly nervous. 
You set the pillow down, dropping to your knees beside him. The chair creaks as he shifts slightly, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. You fight the urge to flinch, to move away as he gently strokes his hand over your hair. You've done this before, he's done this before. You're not sure why your heart is thudding in your chest. 
His hand slowly moves lower, slipping closer and closer to your neck. You can't help it as your shoulders come up, preventing him from gripping the back of your neck. He moves his hand away as you get defensive, his chair turning slightly as he leans down. 
“It's alright, sweetheart. It's just me.” He soothes you, his hand returning to the top of your head. “I know it's been a while, but I promise I remember what to do.” 
“Sorry, sorry.” You gasp out, trying to relax. “I don't...I don't know...”
You do know. Your brain keeps flashing back to General Shepherd, his hand tugging down your collar, so close to your neck. How easily he could have scruffed you, if he'd wanted to. You would have known if he had, but he could have done anything to you during the time he had control. 
“You're stressed, all worked up.” John says, still stroking the top of your head, trying to soothe you. “It's been a long week for all of us. It was a risk, sending all four of us at once. A stupid risk that shouldn't have been taken.”
You're pulled from your emotional state at the slight hint of anger in his voice. It hadn't taken you long to figure out they likely were all sent in order to get you alone. It would have been impossible to get you out of the barracks and put cameras up with even one of them here. Did he know about Shepherd's visit? Had he put two and two together and figured out they sent all four of them on purpose? You figured he'd be angrier if he knew about what you did, about what they did to you. He would be blazing a path straight to General Shepherd if your alpha knew he got so close to you, put you in that kind of situation. 
At least, you hope he would. There’s still that fear in the back of your mind, that worry that it was all a test and you’ve failed. Would they send you back to the institute? Would they break the bonds and send you to a different pack? Would they send you out on your own, leaving you to fend for yourself until some other alpha crossed your path and decided you were worth it? Does he know you’re lying to him, hiding the truth of what happened while he was away? Is he waiting for you to confess, biding his time to see how long you try to hide it? 
You want to tell him. You really do, but you can't bring yourself to get the words out. You can't bring yourself to confess here on your knees before your alpha. You feel guilty, like a sinner, yet the shame keeps the words trapped inside. 
He continues to soothe you, sliding his hand further down until he reaches your neck. You force yourself to relax, knowing you need this. You need your alpha to take control. You need him to ease the heavy weight on your shoulders, even if he doesn't know what he's lifting. 
You close your eyes as his fingers press into your neck, your brain quieting to a hum as you begin to slip into the back of your mind. You feel the rush of endorphins as your brain begins to calm itself, quieting the storm that's been raging for almost a week. You begin to go numb, relaxing into John's hold as he eases you into a quiet, meditative state. He begins to work on his reports as he holds you, your mind floating off somewhere else, somewhere safer where no one can break in and hurt you, somewhere where the barracks are still secure and safe and your pack never left.
Somewhere where there's no initiative, and your pack picked you because they wanted you, because you were a good omega who did as she was told and didn't make stupid mistakes that put everyone in danger. 
The last of the tension leaves your body, your mind distant from the present moment. You're safe with your alpha. He'd never let anything happen to you. None of your pack would let anything happen to you.
The thought continues to repeat in your head like a mantra as you relax, held up by the strong pillar that is your alpha. 
***
“Report's done, Captain.” Kyle says, placing the stack of papers on John's desk. 
“Thanks.” John sighs, grabbing them. 
Kyle turns to look at you, fast asleep on the couch. “You want me to take her?” He asks, the formality easing between them as they settle into being a pack and not a task force on duty anymore. 
John stares at you, curled up on his lumpy old couch. It’s getting late, or at least it feels that way. You’ve been out, sleeping peacefully on his couch since he eased you out of your kneeling position. You’d clung to him tightly, and for a moment he’d considered holding you, letting you sit with him as you dozed, but he knows he can’t risk you seeing something you shouldn’t. So he’d eased you onto the couch, having to peel your hands away from his shirt. He’d nearly given up and let you keep hold of his shirt before you finally relaxed and released him. 
“Would probably be more comfortable.” He rubs his eyes, feeling the call of sleep himself. He wonders how much you managed to sleep while they were gone. You look tired, though you’ve been looking tired since your heat ended. He needs to rest himself, but he wants to get these reports done so he can keep his promise for tomorrow. “I'll be in there soon.”
“Don't work too hard.” Kyle says, moving to lift you off the couch. 
“No promises.” 
Kyle shakes his head before scooping you up off the couch, blanket and all. You’re still sound asleep as he carries you, pausing in the hallway for a moment. He had just been instinctually going to his room, but would you be more comfortable in your own room? You probably have spent the last week shut inside your space. It might be nice to spend some time somewhere else. 
He takes you into his room, laying you on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. He needs to shower and throw his clothes in the wash, but he doesn’t want to leave you and risk you waking up without someone there. You’re sleeping deeply, though, not even stirring as he tucks the blanket up higher around you. He doesn't want to crawl into bed smelling like gunpowder and sweat. That might throw you off too. 
He takes the risk, knowing he can do both tasks quickly. No more than twenty minutes to get himself clean and his dirty clothes in the wash, as he prays you stay asleep and won't start panicking if you wake in a strange place. He had sensed how close you had been to distress, how tense you had been when he held you in the car. It’s been a hard week for you, even harder than it had been for them. 
He breathes out a quiet sigh of relief as he finds you still asleep when he returns to his room. You haven't moved at all, still tucked under the blanket from John's office. He gets himself changed and moisturized, rubbing some cream on the bruises that dot his skin. He's going to be sore tomorrow, they all will be, but he knows they won't be doing much. John had already told them tomorrow will be dedicated to spending time with you and helping you recover from the stress of them being gone. He’s silently glad for the break, knowing it could only be a few days before they get called out again. 
John had also told him he’d be pushing harder for one of them to stay whenever he can. He’s not taking this risk again, not if it can be avoided. 
Kyle’s pulling on his sweatpants when you inhale sharply. You're sitting up straight on his bed, eyes wide as you look around in fear. They’re hazy, confusion settling into your mind after going from John’s office to Kyle’s room after kneeling. 
“Hey, hey. It's alright.” Kyle says, moving over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge so he’s in your line of sight. “You're just in my room.”
“Kyle?” You whisper, clarity returning to your gaze as you stare at him. 
“I'm here.” He says. “Just went to take a shower and clean up.”
“Where's John?” You ask, tears gathering in your eyes. 
“Still working on things.” He says, cupping your face. “He'll be in eventually.”
The tears fall from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks. They wet his thumbs as he strokes your skin, your body trembling slightly as you sniffle. 
Something’s wrong. He's known it since you latched onto him on the tarmac. The way you'd held onto him like he might disappear, how you looked almost angry when John told you they still had things to do, the way your scent had filled the barracks, bitter with fear and stress. 
Something’s up, something you're not letting them in on. But, to be fair, they had just left you for a week, up and abandoned you to go play heroes. He wouldn't blame you for not telling them anything. The bonds have weakened. He can feel it, beyond just his natural beta senses. 
“What can I do?” He asks quietly, trying to project his scent a bit to help calm you. He doesn't want you distressing, not after holding it together for so long. 
“I...I need...” You inhale shakily, still trembling in his hold. “I don't know.” You whine, the tears falling faster now. 
He pulls you against his chest, holding you as you cry. He feels the tugging in his chest, sympathy for you and what you must be feeling, along with the guilt of knowing they caused this. They did this just with their absence. 
An idea begins to form in his mind as he holds you, something his family used to do when he was younger. 
He pulls away from you, standing up. “Come on. I have an idea.” 
He strips the blankets from his bed before pulling the mattress off the frame. He drags it to the door and out into the hallway before heading down to John's room. You follow behind him, watching him as he opens the door to John’s room, dragging the mattress in and dropping it on the floor. 
“Stay here.” He tells you, heading back out into the hallway.
“What're ye doin’?” Johnny asks, sticking his head out of his door. 
“Grab your mattress and Simon and meet me in Price's room.” Kyle says as he heads down the hallway, ignoring Johnny's further questioning as he makes for John’s office. 
He doesn't bother knocking, walking right in. John blinks at him from behind the desk, and for a moment Kyle wonders if he'd fallen asleep sitting up. It wouldn't be the first time. 
“Come on.” Kyle says, moving to stand in front of his desk. “Finish those tomorrow.”
“They're important, I have to get them done asap.” John counters. 
“Yeah, well I have something more important.” He leans forward at John's questioning stare. “Your omega needs you.” 
John stares at his beta for a moment, and Kyle can see the gears turning in his head, the debate happening, the conflict in his mind. He so rarely sees his alpha, his captain so indecisive for so long. He's usually so quick to act, analyzing a situation and making a decision in mere seconds. 
If only you knew the things you've done by simply existing in their lives. 
John closes the file on his desk, slipping it into the drawer before locking it. Kyle fights the triumphant grin threatening to form on his face as John stands from his chair after shutting his computer off. Kyle makes his way back down the hallway, John following behind after locking his office door. Kyle stops at his room, grabbing his comforter before heading for John’s room. 
Johnny had obviously gotten the idea of what Kyle had in mind, his mattress and John's laid out side by side so the three make one giant bed for them on the floor. He’s already laid out his own comforter and Simon’s, as well as John’s on the mattresses. They probably wouldn’t need blankets for long with their body heat, but the blend of scents will hopefully begin to ease the tempest raging in your mind. 
You’ve parked yourself in the corner, watching it all happen. You seem so small, so lost, so out of place. It's not all that different from when you'd arrived in their lives. Has being gone for a week really reverted things so drastically for you? Has your stress broken the bonds so much that you feel like a stranger amongst them again? 
Kyle steps over the mattresses, approaching you slowly. You look up from where you had been staring off into space, blinking up at him. Your eyes are still red and watery from crying, your arms clutching one of your stuffed bears against your chest. It’s the one John had scented for you, back when they were trying to get you to nest. He wonders if you’ve nested since they left, if that urge is still there, or if that too has faded. 
Kyle doesn’t often feel angry at his job. Not anymore. He doesn’t often question it. It’s what he signed up for, and he does it because someone has to. He chose this life, so he does his best to be a good soldier, to follow orders. Yet, as he stares down at you, he can’t help but feel anger bristling in the back of his mind. He tries to blame it on his instincts, on the fact that a member of his pack is so upset, so distressed at something that’s happened, and he doesn't know what to do to help. 
Yet he knows they were the cause of it, even if it wasn’t their choice directly. Something happened because of them. He tries to rationalize it. This is an experiment, a test to see how well packs will do with omegas, if it has any effect on how well they can do their jobs, if it makes them stronger, or if it weakens them. Those in charge had obviously put little regard in for how it would affect the omegas. They couldn’t have known how you would react, how badly all of them leaving would affect you. Or maybe they did know, and they simply didn’t care.. Perhaps you weren’t the focus of their study, but you were still a variable, you were still an important piece of this puzzle. 
How can they be more effective if their omega is struggling because of their absence? How can they be expected to function like a team now knowing leaving behind their omega will only cause distress for all of them? 
Kyle takes a deep breath, pushing back the anger and the emotions whirling in his own mind. He needs to focus on you right now, focus on helping you relax, helping you get back to where you were before they left you. He’s doing the best he can do right now for you, giving you what you need, even if you don’t realize it’s what you need yet. 
He holds out his hand to you, staying still as you stare at it. It takes you a moment before you slowly begin to move, slipping one of your hands into his. He guides you to the mattress in the middle, Johnny’s mattress, easing you down to sit on it. You glance around as Johnny and John toss pillows onto the mattresses haphazardly, making sure everything is perfect. It’s not a pretty nest, he’d hardly call it a nest at all, but he knows nesting is not necessarily all about looks. It’s about feeling, and right now, he knows you need to feel safe and secure. 
John quickly changes into more comfortable clothes as Kyle stretches out on the mattress, opening his arms to you. You curl up against his side, resting your cheek against his chest. You press your face into his skin, inhaling for a moment before you settle, slowly beginning to relax in his hold. 
Simon enters the room as John settles on Kyle’s other side, closing the door behind him and locking it, securing the five of you inside. Johnny settles on the other side of you, pressing up close against your back. He pulls one of the comforters up around the three of you before he tosses an arm around you, resting his hand on Kyle’s stomach, sandwiching you between the two betas again. 
Simon stands over the makeshift nest, staring down at the four of you. He’s obviously the most uncomfortable with the situation, and still a bit miffed from your lack of greeting on the tarmac. It was his own fault for being so closed off with you for so long. You had instinctively sought out the members of the pack you felt the most connected to, the most comfortable with in your time of such great stress. 
“Aw come on, ye big bastard, get in the bed.” Soap says, snapping Simon out of his reverie. 
Simon shuts the light off, bathing them in near darkness. You tense for a moment as the lights go off before you slowly relax again. Kyle listens to your breaths even out as Simon gets comfortable on the mattress behind Johnny, the four of them settling in around you. 
It's already warm in the room but none of them would even think of complaining. They’re too focused on surrounding you with their scent and their protection, the very thing you need the most. 
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Taglist:
@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx
@protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai
@redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg
@beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff
@smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60
@evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine
@thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows
@ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce
@darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood
@daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph
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colourstreakgryffin · 3 months
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I was wondering if you can do Alastor x daughter! Reader? She’s manifested from his magic and because of that she has some of Alastor’s powers. However, she’s the complete and total opposite of him. She’s kind and sweet like Charlie, but is very shy. She never likes bringing out her true demon form for she is very terrifying. Alastor is very protective of her. Although, what if she sees Alastor get hurt by another overlord or Adam and he turns into her demon form to protect him and everyone is surprised by this and maybe even terrified of her.
OMFG. Yes! Second Alastor request in a rooowww! I love this man uncontrollably and he would be a good daddy. He’s a stag papa with his little fawn for reaaall! I love this idea, lots of loves and so much thanks for giving Hazbin Hotel more attention— or, I guess Alastor!
Father! Alastor- Hell’s Angel
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Okay… Alastor wasn’t suspecting to pop a kid out of thin air when he actually wanted to pop a kid out of thin air. His magic is very powerful, no doubt but he birthed a child from solely his own powers and about 100% of his own DNA so his daughter’s features are primarily matching his own but there are some personal key differences Alastor wanted you to have to seperate yourself from him
So, you’re not a carbon copy of your dad, the Radio Demon. More just have the same deer features and red colouring
Alastor also wasn’t suspecting to have born an angel of his own. Sweet, affectionate, cheery, always smiling but smiling in a more welcoming and natural manner than her papa. He doesn’t mind it, you’re his babygirl. He loves you dearly, even after he just shat you out from literally nothing. He’s just surprised!
Well, at least Charlie loves you because you’re like… exactly what she loves and Alastor gets jealous of how well Charlie bonds with his own daughter!
Alastor has never known how to handle his own powers so when you begin manifesting voodoo dolls and portals containing all kinds of demonic beasts, he has to figure out how to get around all of it without hurting you a single bit. He has a whole plan scheduled out for anytime your powers trigger at random
Alastor’s protective, loving, clingy and carries you around a lot. He loves being able to bond with you, he likes hearing your cute deer noises when you’re trying to talk to him. He never lets you leave his sight and whilst he reframes from murder, he may just kill Vox for insulting his little fawn
Alastor now has all the full right to tell awful Dad jokes, since he is a proper Dad now. Rest in peace once again, Angel Dust
Yes. Alastor is the type to spoil his daughter. Spoil rotten, he isn’t going to stop and he isn’t sorry. He loves his little princess and no matter what, he’ll give her what she wants. If anybody dares to take what she wants from her, he’ll send them to double hell then give his babygirl extra hugs and kisses as apologises
Alastor knows, like him, you have your own full demon form and for a harmless sweetheart like yourself(that only uses your powers to help the Hotel staff). Your full form is actually terrifying and you know that, which is why you avoid it. You don’t want to scare anybody, especially not your beloved dad so you always reframe from getting too mad
Just let Papa Alastor handle anything bad. He’ll protect and care for you in the most sweet, cuddly way possible
Alastor is a lunatic, barely sane, monstrous all under a passive-aggressive, well-mannered, dapper 1930s gentleman image but when it comes to you, you’re the most healthy thing he has and he feels genuine love, care and affection for his own offspring. He only views you as his daughter, nothing else or anything exploitative. After all, he acts more like the one serving you than anything. He’ll get you whatever you want, no questions asked
Alastor wants to keep you away from threats so when Adam attacks the Hazbin Hotel. He has no choice but to leave you with Charlie. However, this didn’t last long since you knew your father was struggling when you heard his voice’s radio effect cut out. That was immediately a sign that you, not even a ten-year-old, to jump in and it caused you to rampage against Adam when you used your powers to track down and make it over to Alastor
“PRINCESS! GET AWAY FROM HERE NOW!” Alastor, despite the giant thick cut across his chest, staining his red pinstriped coat, over the white trims of his dark red lapels, yells out as loud as he can to catch his child’s attention, to get her to back off. Struggling to rise up to his feet with his tall fluffy deer-like ears pinned back. A sign of his fear, not because of seeing his babygirl in her full demon form throwing everything she has at the angel, Adam but because you’re in so much danger attacking Adam
Adam isn’t a merciful being, despite being an Angel, and the risk to your life is extremely high. Your demon form is ten times more demonic than any sinner can manifest, due to being produced by raw demonic magic, you form into a pure demonic entity
Screeching out in a menacing echoey way, entirely black and clumpy, phasing in and out like mist, shaped like a mighty Wendigo deer with literally zero resemblance to your cute little form. To you, your father’s in danger and with his cane snapped in half, his powers limited and his radio voice effect gone
You can’t just sit around in Charlie’s arms and let Alastor get killed by this psycho angel!
You have to risk everything to let Alastor escape. However, he isn’t going anywhere without you and is frantically trying to think of a way to get you away from Adam as the said holy entity keeps throwing swings after swings with his holy sharpened guitar to break off all the attacks coming from your Wendigo-style full form, letting out many strings of hateful curses at both you and Alastor. It’s clear with all the shadowy spines and green electricity shocks that you’re desperately trying to fend off the much stronger Angel to try protect your father
But if the Radio Demon himself couldn’t take on Adam for any longer than a few minutes. Of course, you don’t stand a chance, lasting half the time Alastor did. Being beaten when Adam outspeed and charged down a devestating sharp swing on your full form’s form head after you attempt to attack again. Thinking rather fast, you used your magic to cushion the blow to avoid it actually killing you
Being thrown over on the opposite end to where Alastor is and fading back into your normal demon form, a nasty big cut all down your back to the end of your fluffy deer tail, sobbing and clenching fangs
The staff watching nearby were terrified yet impressed. Impressed a child of your age and confidence was able to get that many hits on Adam and manage to guard yourself from a attack from Adam himself, getting away with merely just one cut
The Radio Demon growls frustrated and outraged at being forced to watch his child being thrown around like some doll and get even more hurt, now cornered by Adam, since it’s clear he doesn’t care to attack Alastor anymore. Thinking just as fast and getting up properly with his snapped-into-two cane in one tightening fist
Alastor phases through into the shadows in an almost melting fashion, dragging you down with him in the same shadowy engulfing manner by a single black trail travelling over to where you laid, leaving the bloodthirsty human ancestor as the victor of this fight. Needless to say, Alastor was so pissed. Pissed he lost the fight when he had managed to get many hits on Adam at the first section of the fight and pissed that said Angel dared to put his hands on his angel
At least… you’re safe now. Bleeding, hurt, crying and tired from overworking yourself whilst laid in Alastor’s arms, but you’re alive and okay. In your father’s hold and safe. Away from the Hotel and protected by the Voodoo’s shadowy magic
“You’re okay, darling… you’re okay. Papa’s got you, he’s always got you”
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norrizzandpia · 4 months
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Hiiii I love your writing so much!!! Can I request an imagine where Lando is streaming and the reader says something and lando is like “when I marry you” and the reader is like WHEN? And lando is all like in love and the stream goes wild. Then she leaves the room and lando is like “I can’t wait to marry her “ or smth…. Thank uuuuuu
When? (LN4)
Summary: Apparently, to Lando, it is not a question of if he will marry Y/n, it is when.
Warnings: none
Sitting in a swiveling chair beside him, Y/n peaks over Lando’s shoulder, watching as his car on the video game spins out of control before crashing into the barriers.
“Shit!” Lando screams, his body flying forward from his chair to hunch over.
Y/n giggles in the background as the chat berates Lando for his poor sim skills whilst also being a Formula 1 driver, “You’d think you’d be so good at this game?”
Lando shoots her a look over his shoulder, a warning glance, before he shakes his head with a snicker, “You try it, then.”
Y/n shakes her head, “Nah, I’m good. Leave it the professionals.”
Lando nods with a tsk, finding her presence and her words funny nonetheless. There’s a ringing on her phone that shakes them from their moment, Y/n picking it up and noting the unknown number.
“Hello?”
Murmuring sounds from the other side of the phone before realization flows through Y/n and she nods as she speaks, “Yes, sorry. I will ask my boyfriend for that right now. I’m not sure what the exact code is.”
The word code makes Lando mute his microphone, knowing if people found his apartment with the knowledge of the code to get in, all hell would break loose.
“Who is it?” He asks her.
“The delivery guy. What’s the code to get into the building?” Y/n replies, her free hand landing on his bicep as he turns around to fully face her.
Lando’s body warms at her touch, “2576.”
She nods and he unmutes the microphone, the couple going back to their old ways.
“You know, you could just make it easier for me and write the code on a piece of paper for me. Or at least let me write it in my Notes app. I always forget it.” She chuckles, noting the way the delivery man texts her he’s making his way up the stairs, gaining closer to the apartment.
Lando mindlessly laughs, “I don’t want it to get leaked or for you to lose the paper. Maybe when I marry you, I don’t know.”
The chat erupts as silence ensues behind him. Lando sneaks a glance at Y/n behind him, the girl jaw dropped, “When?”
His eyebrows furrow, “Yeah, when. What about it? You think I don’t want to marry you? You think I don’t already have it all planned out in my head?”
Y/n shakes her head, disbelief bleeding from her being, “Well, what a nice surprise!”
She giggles, still a bit taken aback, before leaning forward and planting a slobbery kiss on his cheek. One which he grimaces at and wipes away, although his heart beats faster in his chest at the gesture.
She smiles down at him as she stands up, mumbling about the food being there, as she lays another kiss yet this time meeting his lips. She stares at him a bit more before leaving the room, the two being lovesick in the way their eyes shimmered.
Lando, let alone for the moment, read through the chat and laughed at their words, “What do you mean ‘I’m crying, that’s so cute’ I thought people knew how serious I was about her?!”
Max laughs from the other end of the call, “Yeah, what? Lando has been talking about marrying Y/n since he first met her.”
More messages flood through and Lando can only smile blissfully, “Well, you heard it here first, folks. I can’t wait to marry that woman.”
At this point, the chat is triggered into a frenzy and Y/n looks bewildered when she comes back with the food, slightly overwhelmed at the volume of words infiltrating the screen.
“Jesus Christ, did Lando moan again?” She jokes, though by the way Lando doesn’t answer she actually worries for a moment.
He’s quick to reassure her though, “No, just informing the chat on how in love I am with you because apparently they didn’t know.”
Blush rises to her cheeks and Lando pulls her down onto his lap, the two digging into the two bowls balancing in her lap. There’s a chowing session between the two, their hunger taking over, as they continue to converse with the chat and Max.
Truly funny, though, the way the conversation steered into the topic of Lando and Y/n getting married as the engagement ring rest in the depths of his sock drawer, begging to be taken out and displayed on the finger of his favorite girl.
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lomlhwa · 2 months
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twin bitches (j.yh + c.jh)
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pairing: roommate!yunho x roommate!reader x roommate!jongho
preview: your roommates are so sick and tired of hearing about your lack of sexual activity. so, they fix it for you.
tags/warnings: fem reader, threesome, oral (f+m.receiving), monster cocks for both of them, use of the color system, two cocks in one hole can i get a wahoo, praise, degrading, mean dom jongho + sweet dom yunho, mating press, so much dirty talk, slapping, some voyeurism, hand kink, fingering, breath play, pet names (slut, good girl, whore, our girl, baby, pretty girl), yunho likes to be called yuyu thank you, spanking, vibrator torture, edging, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), a couple creampies
trigger warnings: n/a
wc: 2.6k
song recs for this fic: topia twins by travis scott, soaked by shy smith
a/n: hnnngrggnn
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It's late at night when you finally press your key into your front door. you can hear your roommates yelling at each other. you automatically assume that they're gaming. and you’re right. you find them sitting on opposite sides of the couch, screaming about their game and pounding on the buttons of their controllers. you can’t help but find it at least a little cute.
jongho looks up from the game for a split second to acknowledge you before nudging yunho. “oh y/n! you’re home!” yunho throws his headset off and runs over to you. your big golden retriever roommate loves to hug you when you get home. it’s endearing. you wrap your arms around his waist as he crashes your face into his chest. you can hear jongho press the power button on their console and get up from the couch. 
“how did your date go?” jongho asks with a stoic look on his face. it’s your 3rd date this week. you sigh, your shoulders dropping. you hate admitting that it’s yet another date that’s gone south. “he said he didn't see me as anything more than a friend.” jongho rolls his eyes, scoffing at your response. “that’s such bullshit,” he says, his tone highly unimpressed by your response. “i don’t understand how all of these men are treating you like this.”
you shrug, walking over to the couch where the two of them had originally been sitting. you throw your head back and cross your arms over your chest. your roommates plop themselves down on either side of you, watching to see what your next move will be. “yanno, i’m not even upset about not having a boyfriend,” you admit, turning your head to the left to look at jongho. “then what are you upset about?” yunho asks from the right side of you. the tone of his voice gives you an inkling that he knows what you’re gonna say. you grow a mischievous look on your face before turning to look at him. “i’m upset that i’m not getting fucked. like at all.”
as soon as those words leave your mouth, both your roommates collectively sigh. “what?! it’s a valid complaint!” you exclaim, looking at the both of them in disbelief. you watch as they share a secretive look. confusion spreads across your face. “what the fuck was that?” you ask, wondering what they could be planning. before you can ask anymore questions, jongho throws you over his shoulder. 
“genuinely what is happening right now?” you exclaim, kicking your legs, almost making jongho falter. yunho grabs your ankles tightly, forcing you to stop kicking. “stop being a fucking brat,” yunho demands. you halt every movement so quickly you could’ve sworn your heart stopped too. you can feel heat pooling between your legs at the tone of yunho’s voice. finally, jongho throws you down onto your bed. they both stand above you, arms crossed. they look at each other and then back down at you.
“alright, this is what’s gonna happen since you’re such a whore,” yunho starts. you open your mouth to protest the vulgar name and jongho slaps you straight across the face. “you don’t speak unless spoken to.” you can’t even deny how wet this is making you. yunho gives jongho a smile before continuing. “we’re gonna use you however we see fit and you’re gonna fucking like it.” you squeeze your legs together, your core begging for attention. jongho takes notice of this and forces your knees apart. 
“color?” yunho asks. “very green,” you respond. you almost smile before they both move closer to you and then your face drops. yunho collapses to his knees between your legs and jongho moves towards your upper half. yunho removes your pants so gently, you can barely even tell he’s between your legs. the way he looks up at you, almost desperately, could make you cum on the spot. jongho on the other hand, rips your shirt in half with ease before throwing it somewhere. he grips your jaw, squeezing your face with one hand to force your mouth open. “you’re gonna look so pretty with a face full of cock, baby,” jongho says as he opens his belt with his other free hand. 
you’re so focused on jongho’s words and movements that you had forgotten about where yunho was. that is until you feel his tongue lick a stripe up your thigh. you shoot your eyes in his direction, watching as his mouth inches closer to where you need him most. “she’s so wet, jongho. she’s into this,” yunho says, pulling your underwear off. “i think she really wants us to use her.” you can hear the smirk in his voice. jongho shoves his pants and boxers mid-way down his thighs as he laughs. “of course she is. she’s our little slut,” he says as he shoves his cock down your throat. you gag around him almost immediately, despite only being able to take just under half into your mouth. simultaneously, yunho shoves his face into your core, lapping up the slick that had been leaking out of you. 
the mix of the sensation of your throat being abused and your cunt being cared for so gently sends your brain into a frenzy. you buck your hips up against yunho’s mouth, searching for more intense pleasure. jongho holds your face tightly, making sure you’re watching him while he fucks your mouth. he looks at you with dark, focused eyes, keeping a steady pace in your throat. you feel a loss of heat as yunho pulls away from your core, leaving your throbbing. you wonder where he’s going but you physically can’t look away from jongho. you don’t have to wonder for long when you hear the familiar buzzing of your vibrator. panic sets into your chest, knowing you have no escape. “dirty girl keeping her vibrator in the most obvious place,” yunho says. you can hear him click through the different vibration settings before settling on the basic one. 
jongho pulls out from your mouth before removing his pants and boxers completely. he settles behind you, resting his legs on either side of your waist. yunho gets back down between your legs, running the vibrator up your thigh. “this is gonna feel so fucking good, baby,” he mumbles before pressing it directly to your clit. your hips jolt at the high vibration setting he has on, sending electricty through your veins. you dig your nails into jongho’s thighs, throwing your head back against his shoulder. yunho presses the vibrator into your clit harder, making you borderline stop breathing. your vision becomes fuzzy as your orgasm comes racing towards you like a train. “gonna-” is all you can get out before cumming harder than you probably ever have in your life. yunho never lets the vibrator falter, keeping it pressed on your most sensitive spot.
jongho wraps a strong hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to have you gasping for air. yunho digs his teeth into the soft skin of your inner thigh, watching as you clench around nothing, searching for some distraction from the immense pleasure. “plea-ah-se” you stutter, trying to get words out through jongho’s grip on your airway. “please what, whore?” jongho says against your ear, demanding more words out of you. “need your fingers yuyu,” you plead, your voice cracking. you’re desperate for anything to fill your hole, and yunho knows how much you love his hands. he smiles, obliging to your request. he shoves two fingers knuckles-deep into your sopping cunt. he drills them in an out of you at an unfathomable pace, sending another orgasm crashing into you. your legs tremble at the sensation of everything continuing despite your obvious orgasm.
in fact, yunho adds a third finger and sets the vibrator to the next highest setting. you let out a strangled scream, your nerves lighting themselves on fire. your knees slam together painfully, trapping yunho between your legs. you hear a sinister laugh behind you before your legs are pried apart by a pair of strong hands. you gasp at the sudden rush of air to your lungs and also being splayed open perfectly for your roommates. “please, i can’t do it anymore. it’s too much,” you plead, another orgasm creeping up on you already. “oh, you don’t wanna cum again? okay, baby,” yunho says as he takes his fingers and the vibrator away right before you can cum. you whine, your failed orgasm leaving behind a painful sting. jongho leans forward slightly to kiss your jawline; the sweetest gesture he’s shown so far. while your focus on him, yunho presses the vibrator against you again. your eyes roll into your skull, your previously failure orgasm rushing towards you again. “i’m gonna-” you’re cut off once again by yunho halting all movement. “yuyuuu~,” you whine, your legs begging to close.
“color?” yunho asks once more, placing the now off and very wet vibrator on the floor. through heaving breaths you reply; “yellow.” yunho coos at you, kissing your thighs. “okay, baby. we’ll give you the main event now,” he says as pulls his shirt over his head. jongho slips out from behind you to follow suit. you can’t help but get lost in the sudden lack of body heat. it doesn’t last for long when jongho slots himself between your legs. “i’m gonna get you started, slut. yunho will be all nice, treat your pussy with respect and let you cum, but i won’t. i can’t even be bothered to wear a condom while fucking you.” you open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off by shoving his cock completely inside your hole. his length is impressive as it is but the girth is what has your eyes crossing. the stretch stings and it takes over your senses for at least 10 seconds before you come to. 
jongho starts thrusting into you at an almost inhuman pace, loud skin-slapping sounds filling the room. you can’t help but wonder where yunho has run off to. your eyes search the room before finding him sitting on your computer chair, pumping himself while he watches jongho fuck you. your eyes trail down to his cock and you can almost swear your eyes fall out of your head. is it even humanly possible for it to be that long? you can’t wonder for long when you feel another sharp slap come across your face. “look at me, you whore. i know you’re our girl but i’m the one balls deep inside you right now.” your eyes dart back to him, making fierce eye contact. his black hair is sticking to his forehead as he looks down between you. he watches as his cock appears and disappears inside you. “ah fuck, g-gonna cum jongho,” you grip his forearm and wrap your legs around his waist. “i don’t fucking think so,” he says as he pulls out of you, ripping yet another orgasm away from you.
yunho tuts as jongho pulls away from you. “you’re treating her so unfairly. we’ve taken 2 orgasms from her already.” yunho looks at you with such pity that you could almost cry. jongho looks at you like you’re nothing more than a talkative sex doll. “she’s so tight, yunho. i don’t know if she can take both of us at once.” your eyes dart between them, hearing them talk about you taking both at once. “both? what are you talking about? in one hole?” you ramble. they both collectively laugh at your visible panic. “of course. you wanna cum, it has to be on our cocks. that’s your only option, pretty girl,” yunho says to you, followed by the sweetest golden retriever smile. you clench around nothing at the stark contrast between his words and his smile. 
“i can do it!” you cry out, crawling towards them. you grab their arms and look at them with eyes full of desperation. “at least let me try.” yunho caresses the top of your head, making kissy faces at you. “of course you can try. you’re such a good girl, i’m sure you can do it,” he encourages you. jongho scoffs, rolling his eyes. “yeah she can try, but i don’t think it’ll work.” before you can reply with a snarky comment, jongho lifts you bridal style. “your precious yuyu is gonna lay under you, okay?” he explains as yunho lays down on your bed. jongho spins you around and places you chest to chest with yunho. “hi, pretty girl. are you ready?” you nod, still feeling unsure. you feel him reach down between the two of you to align his throbbing cock up with your cunt. he slides in with ease, his tip just barely kissing your cervix. he’s much longer than jongho but jongho’s girth stretched you out enough for yunho to slide in comfortably.
you shiver as you feel a pair of hands run up your ass. “you’re gonna look so fucking slutty with both our cocks inside you, baby.” a sharp smack lands on your ass cheek and you’re almost 100% sure it left a handprint. you feel the tip of jongho’s cock brush your already full hole. as he starts to push into you, yunho brings his lips to yours. he kisses you with soft passion, trying to keep you distracted. the stretch is unbearable, to say the least. you let out strangled moans against yunho’s mouth, scraping your nails into his shoulders. once they’re both bottomed out, they freeze. your walls pulse as you try to adjust. “mmf please move,” you mutter, hoping they could hear you. 
they both pull out simultaneously, emptiness flooding you. they both slam back into you so hard that your whole body jolts forward. your senses are on overdrive, trying to understand the pain and pleasure that fill your abdomen. you’re scared that if you dig your nails into yunho’s shoulders any harder you’ll draw blood. “color?” yunho says, his voice sounding strained. “green, green, oh my god,” you respond. finally, they move in sync with each other, emptying you and refilling you at the same time. “i can’t, i can’t, too much,” you babble, your legs trembling. “yes you can. you were made for this,” jongho replies, slamming into you extra hard. yunho strokes your hair as he thrusts up into you. “i’m so close, please let me cum, i need it, please,” you beg, your eyes watering. yunho and jongho look at each other, as if trying to decide your fate. you know jongho wants to deny you, but yunho just wants your pleasure. “you can cum, you’ve been such a good girl,” yunho encourages. they keep up their unrelenting pace, even as you’re thrown over the edge. “gonna cum inside you, baby. you deserve it,” yunho says, throwing his head back. both him and jongho are close and you can feel it. 
jongho digs his fingers into your hips as his thrusts stutter to a halt, being the first one to blow his load inside you. it coats your abused walls and yunho’s still moving cock. yunho’s orgasm follows soon after, high pitched whines coming from his throat. you feel so full, both loads slowly seeping out of you. they stay inside you for a moment before emptying you. “i’ll go get a towel,” jongho says before rushing into the bathroom across the hall. you stay laying on yunho’s chest as he whispers sweet nothings to you. you feel the rough texture of the towel on your sensitive core, making you flinch. “sorry,” jongho apologizes. 
eventually, you’re falling asleep. you’re still unmoving from yunho’s hold, feeling the most safe there. you can hear your roommates talking to each other but your brain has gone numb. everything buzzes around you as you fall asleep, your body finally giving out.
“sleep well, pretty girl.”
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© lomlhwa 2024
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romaritimeharbor · 27 days
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FAMILY, OF SORTS. — in which kafka, blade, and silver wolf are an odd but quite special found family to be a part of.
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— trigger & content warnings. mentions of unspecified injury.
— pairings & notes. fluff, found family. kafka & teen!reader, blade & teen!reader, silver wolf & teen!reader. 1.3k words. reader is a stellaron hunter. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used).
— author's notes. the sillies <3 APHE POSTING???? APHELION POSTING REAL AND TRUE????????? i had a request for this on my old blog (from my dear beloved moot @starryshinyskies <3) so i decided to finish it 💪 nd tagging @www-brontide since i know you were excited for this post HEHE anyways how are we feeling about this formatting? if you guys don't like it i'm very open to changing it back. i'm just experimenting with my post format is all 🫶
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kafka seems strangely motherly to me. caring and doting in her own unique ways, but also quite strange and odd in those same ways. an enigma of sorts.
she is the kind of person to always send the stellaron hunters' youngest member texts throughout the day; these texts range anywhere from silly and inconsequential to sweet messages letting [name] know that she was thinking about them.
(her doting nature is not dissimilar to how she thinks of and regards the trailblazer... hm.)
KAFKA
My coat got stained again :(
Won't you help me clean it when you get home, little one?
[ 1:22 PM ]
KAFKA
I saw a new movie today.
It made me think of you. It was quite to your tastes.
Perhaps we should go see it together sometime, hm?
Ah, but you're probably asleep by now...
That's fine. You do need it more than the rest of us.
Sleep well, darling.
[ 11:34 PM ]
she thinks of her little one quite frequently and has been known to pick up little trinkets from different planets that reminded her of them. a phone charm, a set of rings, something more practical like a new weapon... she once returned with a nice coat that matches one of hers. her gifts are always unpredictable but nonetheless very thoughtful.
and when or if they get injured, she is the one who treats their wound(s) with a tender hand.
she does chide them, however.
"you are a stellaron hunter, little one," she reminds, pulling the bandages wrapped around their wound a little tighter, making them wince. it is akin to a slap on the wrist—not enough pain to seriously harm them, but enough to force them to take her words to heart. "if it is not a part of the plan, try your best not to get caught or injured, hm? silver wolf doesn't like to see you this way, and it causes a unique stir in bladie. your getting injured causes quite the unrest among us all! do be more careful next time."
if there is ever a night during which they are struggling to sleep, they are more than welcome to seek out kafka's company.
she would be willing to read them to sleep, if that is what they desired.
however... a far easier method that would ensure they would stay asleep? her spirit whisper ability, of course.
they know kafka would not use it to harm them.
kafka finds their earnest trust beyond endearing. the trust of a little one like them is quite an important gift! the least she can do, she thinks, is assist them when her assistance is needed.
and sometimes, that just means lulling them to sleep.
blade is quite a difficult person to read, regardless of whether he intends to be so or not.
some days, he is distant and prefers to keep to himself. others, less so.
this, though, should not be mistaken for a lack of care. in fact, he cares quite deeply. his care is simply very quiet and he desperately, earnestly, truly does not wish to cause [name] harm.
he is also most likely the one who spars with them and trains them in the ways of combat, which... he isn't exactly the gentlest at doing. training sessions can be quite frustrating in that they often emerge sore and with new cuts and bruises (but really, these injuries are small and insignificant; they are confident in saying that blade would never truly hurt them, nobody in their family would). he does mean well in his tough methods, though.
the universe is not kind or gentle. it will never treat them that way. therefore, he does his best to prepare them so that they can effectively handle the universe's cruelty and defend themselves from it.
one of the ways in which his quiet care manifests is through his treatment of the small wounds he gives them during training. kafka has said many times that she can treat them, but blade always insists on doing it himself.
out of all of their coworkers, blade becomes the most restless when they're away. he gets particularly antsy when they've been gone for a long period or when they're out there alone. kafka always giggles and points out to him how utterly restless he becomes when such circumstances occur.
(he should be assured that they can handle themselves, given that he is their mentor—there is surely nobody else who would know their skills as well as he would—but somehow he simply isn't.)
blade is also, generally speaking, the most protective.
should they come back injured... if it is anything other than a shallow scratch on the cheek, a rage hotter than the brightest star burns under his skin. in those moments, he almost does not dare to touch them, for fear that he might harm them unwittingly... but he does. his hands are somewhat rough when he snatches their face and tilts their chin around to get a better look at the blood (is it theirs? he hopes not) and grime dirtying their face. there is a terrifying threat present in his voice when he demands, not asks, "who did this to you?"
(if kafka was not present in these moments, he might worry that his mara would get the best of him. thankfully, kafka is intentional and present in such situations.)
unless the ones responsible for the wound have already been adequately... taken care of, he will do so himself. there is nowhere in the universe that the perpetrators could hide from him.
it's about protecting them, but it is also about sending a message.
something along the lines of "anyone who lays hands on them will suffer a fate worse than death," perhaps.
death is anything but a terrible fate to blade, but he knows that it is the worst imaginable to some. he will be certain to deliver something infinitely worse, something beyond imagination, to those daring to hurt his younger teammate.
silver wolf is perhaps the least enigmatic of their little family. she isn't an open book, per se, but she's easier to read than kafka or blade... at least, for someone like [name], anyway.
she never fails to harrass them to play a few rounds (which tends to spiral into many, many rounds...) of a game or two with her. why them, specifically? she insists that blade isn't good at them and kafka is kafka. really, it may very well just be that she enjoys spending time with them, but she—of course—will not simply say that.
however... she bullies them terribly about how bad they are. it comes from a place of affection!
she is also the type to win them every single prize at carnivals, just because she likes the joy it seems to bring them. when she encounters rigged games, however, she becomes all the more motivated by her unadulterated annoyance to beat them.
what do you mean she of all people can't beat this awful and horrible rigged game? her???? the silver wolf????? seriously????????
unfortunately, it does not always end in her victory, even when she is infinitely motivated by her anger.
...and she really isn't above just taking one of the prizes when the stall's owner isn't looking. she has done so multiple times for [name].
she would definitely try to teach them hacking (keyword: try) if they aren't already familiar with it. since it has come in handy for her, she figures that they might also find use in it. it's her quiet way of looking out for them.
(her more obvious way of looking out for them is often seen when she is on missions with them. most commonly, it manifests as her snatching their arm and pulling them out of the way of an enemy before obliterating said threat.)
silver wolf is totally the sort of person to pinch their cheeks (to different degrees, kafka and blade also do this!). they are very cute to her.
overall they are a weird but very special little family to be a part of <3
please consider supporting your writers by reblogging and leaving a kind tag or comment. it really helps me out!
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eetherealgoddess · 2 months
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TR: ꨄYANDERE ONE NIGHT STAND HEADCANONSꨄ
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Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader
Characters are 18+
❦Idc how bad you want it, do NOT wake up to these mfs❦
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Not fully proofread
MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
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Mikey: You didn’t expect to see a man lying next to you in your bed, let alone him being a friend of yours from childhood. You almost didn’t recognize him considering the black hair that’s falling down his back and shoulders. His body curved to the side as you stared in shock at the back of his head. You peeked over and almost cursed when you realized who he was.
You don’t remember the night before but picking the covers up and eyeing both of your naked bodies, you could only hope you had used protection. When you eased off of the bed, you snatched your clothes off the floor. Your eyebrows furrowed at the hoodie and sweats that indicate you hadn’t gone to a bar or club. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t figure out how running into each other would have resulted in the two of you in the same bed.
Once your clothes were on, you rushed to the door to avoid an awkward greeting. You wanted to see if your parents had made it home and noticed anything. Yes, you’re an adult but you still live under your parents roof and they never liked Mikey. They always thought of him as a bad influence which sucked for you because you actually had a little crush on him. They forbade him from the house and at some point made it a rule for you to not be friends anymore.
Having been young, you had to listen. They’re pretty strict so the tracking device prevented you from sneaking around. Honestly, you didn’t have many friendships because of your parents so you would only go to school, home, and occasionally the park. You only recently were allowed to have nights out as long as you paid attention in your college classes. You were scared that your parents would kick you out if they saw the display so you hurried out the door.
The putrid smell of the house slapped your face, a palm going over your nose as your eyes watered. You continue to walk through the hall to the living room, gasping when you see the corpses of your parents. You gagged up vomit, belching and coughing as tears spilled from your eyes. Your body trembles as you drop to your knees, eyeing their unrecognizable faces considering it looks as though their faces were beaten repeatedly, a large gash in the middle of their faces with blood puddling around them.
Having thrown on his black pants, he followed the wails that woke him up. His shoulder leaning against the wall and arms crossed over his bare chest, Mikey’s dark eyes gaze at you from the hall. He hadn’t meant for you to see such a gruesome scene. The pill he put in your drink two nights ago should’ve kept you asleep at least for a few days. He planned to take you home today considering he got carried away the nights before, libido high from the adrenaline rush he had from ridding both of you of the blockage that kept you two apart. He pushed himself off the wall and walked towards you.
Jolting, you looked up at him from your kneeled position with wide eyes. He sets his hand on your head and crouches down.
“You’re gonna be good so I don’t have to knock you out, kay?” Hesitantly, you nod your head. He smiles softly before standing up and holding out a hand for you to take, helping you on your feet as you hold yourself up with shaky legs, gaze stuck on your deceased parents as you walk back to the bedroom.
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Kazutora: You pant heavily as moans echoed throughout the room, bucking your hips up as your ex boyfriend’s thrusts meet yours. Your fingers grip his shoulders before wrapping your arms around his neck, his cock aiming deeper inside of your walls as he grinds into you, hitting your g-spot with each rutt. He moans into your ear as he nibbles and sucks your earlobe, one of his hands placed on top of your head as his other hand grips the cushion of the bed.
“Kazu, I’m gonna cum!” You whimper out as you grind harder against him, the head of his cock pounding against the erogenous zone that causes your hands to turn into fists as you throw your head back. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your back arches.
“Cum on this cock, baby.” His husky voice whispers against your ear as he continues the same pace, purposefully bringing you to an orgasm as you moan loudly, yelling a curse as you hold your hips in place. Suddenly, he pulls back and grabs a hold of your thighs, holding them up before thrusting at a faster pace, his hair draping over as he leans over, your hands gripping his shoulders once more as your mouth hangs open, feet next to your head.
The bed rocks as he roughly thrusts into you, cream oozing out of your pussy and dripping to your ass. You couldn’t help but release shaky moans as he used your pussy to bring himself to an orgasm. Your eyes widen as you watch his expression morph into the familiar look he makes when he’s about to cum.
“Pull out!” You yell as your eyebrows furrow from the overstimulation, hands moving to his chest.
“M’ gonna cum so fucking deep in this pussy.” He moans out, panting as his hips become sloppier, his fingers squeezing your thighs tightly. You yank his hair back in an attempt to pull him out of you only for him to moan out as he thrusts his hips harder, his eyes fluttering closed as his mouth hangs open.
He pressed his cock deep inside you as you felt his seed shoot inside. Both of you moan out as he slowly grinds his orgasm out, you pressing your hips against him as you cream out another orgasm. He lays on top of you as he pushes himself inside you more, holding himself in place to make sure all of his semen has nowhere to go but inside your hole.
“No, no, no! Kazutora, I told you to pull out!” You smack his sweaty back as he breathes deeply against your neck.
“It’s fine.” You both grunt as he pushes inside of you more, his arms hugging around your head.
“No it’s not! Now you have to get me a plan b!”
He sits up as he chuckles before pulling his hips back and shoving into you again before beginning a slow pace. You bite your lip to hold back from moaning.
“Uh, uh. You’re gonna keep it and we’re going to raise it together.” He grins as he holds your legs back up.
“Are you crazy? I have a fiancé now! I can’t get pregnant!” He pins your arms above your head after you try to push him off.
“That’s too bad.” He says before thrusting at a faster pace. He breeds you over and over again the rest of the night, your pussy full of nothing but his sperm.
The next day, you bought a plan b, walking to your car after you left the store. Before you could get in your seat, you were grabbed from behind and pulled into a chest with a knife against your throat.
“Take it and I will slice your neck and kill your fiance after sending everyone in your family the video I took of us last night. Do you understand?” He says softly against your ear. You nod frantically as he takes the bag out of your hand. He pecks your cheek before releasing you.
“Glad we got back together, Y/n. It’ll be good for the baby.”
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Ran: You wake up in a penthouse, the huge bedroom displaying a luxury you’ve never seen in person until last night. You were surprised that someone so loaded would go to a run down club such as the place you work at and choose you, a low class stripper, to spend the night with. You wouldn’t normally go home with anyone, but this man was charming and beautiful. You could tell he was expensive just by his demeanor and what he wore. You had no clue why he spotted you, gazing at you when he first walked in. When you made eye contact, you knew it would be a good night.
He made it worthwhile, treating you delicately, all the while pounding into you from behind as his nails left scratch marks all over you. Whispering soft words as he talked you through each orgasm while shoving his cock so hard that your skin smacked loudly against each other. His hold felt good against you, bodies molding together as you gripped the sheets of the bed, his sweat mixing with yours as he thrusts deeply inside of you.
“Work at my club.” He says while tracing your arm as you lie on his bare chest, the morning light seeping through the thin curtains as your legs are tangled together. You didn’t hesitate to accept the offer. Working at his club brought you more money, as well as high end living. You moved out of your grimy apartment to a luxury loft near his penthouse. One of his drivers would give you limitless rides to wherever you had ordered. You made connections and created a better life for yourself, with his help of course. You’re clearly the boss’s favorite, damn near living with him as he always brought you to his home at the end of a work night. Even on your off days you would end up at his place, waking up naked in his bed.
Whenever you had vip performances, there was a no touch policy for you specifically no matter the circumstances. As you rolled your hips against a stranger’s lap, he grabbed your ass and pulled you onto his covered bulge, bucking his hips against you. You yelp as you try to release yourself from the man’s grip, only for him to hold you down and groan. You curse at him before turning and back handing his face.
He shoves you to the ground, standing up from the seat as he hovers over you. He pulls his arm back, ready to land a punch to your cheek. A bang echoed through the room as blood splattered on your face and front body. The man’s headless body pauses before dropping limp on the ground, his jaw hanging as red covers him. You pant as your eyes stare wide at the corpse. Footsteps come towards you from behind as hands reach around your waist and pick you up from the floor.
“Sorry I didn’t come sooner.” He says casually as he leans in to kiss your forehead. “Let’s go home, yeah?” Still gazing at the body oozing blood, you nod your head with a trembling lip. He rubs your back as you both walk out. When you both lied in bed that night, you couldn’t get the man’s headless body out of your mind. Sure, he deserved something bad to happen to him, but the way Ran shot him so effortlessly was a little troubling for you. Regardless of the mixed feelings you held, you couldn’t help the side of you that was excited that a man like him protected you from danger.
“You no longer work at the club. You only work for me.” You were forced to move in with him for ‘your own safety,’ as well as giving all your personal details to him so he can take care of you completely. He paid for everything and even dressed you himself. He really molded you into his perfect doll. You couldn’t really get mad about the lack of freedom considering you had no more worries. In fact you were a little scared that he would give it all up once another stripper caught his eye.
“I could never replace my favorite doll.” With that sentence alone, your whole mindset changed. You realize that what you were receiving wasn’t real. Everything was to mold you into his little object. His toy. You don’t know why it hurt you as bad as it did, but you knew you had to leave.
The next day, you told him, “I think it’d be best if we stopped seeing each other. Our relationship is way past professional and I want my own life back.” He only stares at you as he sits on his office chair, stoic expression as his legs are crossed.
“You’re having a bad day. You should get some rest.” He states. Your eyebrows furrowed.
“No, I’m serious. This needs to end right now.” He stands up from his seat, walking towards you before gently grabbing your chin and wrapping an arm around your waist.
“Are you sure?” He questions. You nod your head, ignoring his affection no matter how bad you wanted it. He releases you before walking back to his seat. He sits down and props his legs on the desk. You froze when you turned to walk away, a gun cocking behind you. You turn your gaze to him in shock and fear.
“Why do you look so scared, Y/n? You wanted this to end, right?” His expression shows a sly smile, elbow resting on the table as he lazily points the gun at you. Keeping his gaze fixed on yours, he leans over the desk, both elbows on the table, placing his feet on the ground.
“Or, were you mistaken?” You couldn’t move, your hairs standing up on your limbs as you breathed heavily. Your body is tense as you eye the barrel of the weapon.
“Were. You. Mistaken?” He reiterated, awaiting a response as his eyes narrowed.
“Y-yes, I made a mistake.” He nodded, “Mhm,” before setting his gun on the desk.
“I’ll meet you in the bedroom for a nap.” He smiled as he waved you off.
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Rin: You hadn’t expected the drunken night to go as good as it did. Having been broken up with the day of, you decided to go out and find a random person to take home. Of course, this isn’t something you usually do, but you need something, or someone to distract you.
You had initially walked into the club with your friends by your side, but after a few shots the whole night became blurred, you all losing each other in the process.
The alcohol saved you from the thoughts that wanted to race your mind, instead you searched the crowd for someone who would be the perfect fit for tonight. Coming across a purple mullet, you knew exactly who you wanted. You downed another shot before reaching the upstairs dance floor.
You didn’t really care about anything but getting this stranger in your pants so when you reached him, you tapped his shoulder. You almost change your mind, anxiety forming when you see how attractive he is, though the alcohol in your system keeps you from folding to your insecurities.
“You wanna get out of here?” You question, swallowing your pride as his intimidating gaze locks you in a chokehold. You perk up at his smirk.
“Sure.”
Excitement causes you to grab his arm and pull him out of the club. He informs you of his driver and you allow him to take you to his place. When you both get there, you immediately pounce on him. Your lips drunkenly move against his as his arms wrap around your waist before pulling you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his torso. You make out as he carries you to the couch and sits with you on his lap.
After a couple hours or so, you both ended up in his bedroom, blankets all over the bed as you grind your hips on his face. His hands grip your thighs as you rest your arms on the head board, head back as you groan out. He smacks your ass as he laps up your juices, sucking your clit before flicking it with his tongue. Orgasm after orgasm, you both sloppily give yourselves to one another.
When you woke up the next day, your phone continuously buzzed as a call interrupted your sleep. You groaned as you grabbed the phone and eyed the screen. You sigh once you see your ex’s name. Answering the phone you picked yourself up and used one of the blankets on the floor as a cover up. You glanced at the sleeping purple haired man and walked into his bathroom, closing the door behind you.
The conversation went with your ex manipulating the situation and you falling for it once more, a never ending cycle that you knew could end if you stopped fooling yourself. Hanging up and opening the bathroom door, you weren’t expecting to see Rin sitting up on the bed, half-naked as his body faces you with his feet planted to the ground. You greet him as you put your clothes on.
“Leaving to go back to your toxic ex?” One of your eyebrows raised at him.
“That’s none of your business. Can I please get a ride to my apartment?” He nods as he watches you walk out.
A week has passed and you and your ex are once again back on bad terms. You were on your way to his place to pick your stuff up so it wouldn’t get mixed up with the other women’s items considering he allows them to stay over. When you opened the door, your eyebrows furrowed at the dark living room. He just texted you so you didn’t understand why he wouldn’t be waiting in the living space like he always does.
You gasp when you reach his bedroom doorway, his corpse lying on the floor with blood oozing from a bullet hole in his head, lifeless eyes wide open. You look at the culprit who sits on the bed facing away from you.
“What the fuck?” You breathe out, uncomfortable and terrified from the display. You could recognize the mullet from anywhere. He stands up from the bed with the gun still in hand.
“Let’s go.” He says, expecting you to follow as he walks past you. Because of the gun in his hand, you really didn’t have a choice but to follow if you didn’t want to end up like your ex.
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Sanzu: You knew that even if you’re unhappy with your marriage, you probably shouldn’t have cheated. Honestly, it wasn’t anything planned but you really needed the drugs you had bought from the dealer you were recommended. Who knew that the one night stand would turn into an affair. Though there didn’t seem to be any emotional connection on your part nor did it seem like his, you couldn’t stop contacting him and yearning for the pink haired man in more ways than you should for a drug dealer.
You thought what you experienced was normal until you realized you might’ve caught feelings for your dealer. Unfortunately, when you confessed, you were answered with a blank expression as you both smoked weed in his car. You realized how stupid you were to have confessed to someone when you were married so you stopped buying from him. It wasn’t until he showed up at your house and pulled you into a passionate kiss. You continued to make out until you were on the sofa, riding his cock once more as you moaned out his name.
His hands gripping your hips as he thrusted into you from below. One of his hands moved behind your head and pulled you to his shoulder as his other hand wrapped around your waist, aiming his cock deeper to keep hitting that spot that makes your thighs quake in his hold.
“Fuck.” He hissed as you rolled your hips harder, grunting as his grip tightened. “You sure you want this?”
“Uh huh.” You moan out as you nod, head falling back as the sound of your wet pussy squelches around his thick girth. When the sound of the front door clicks open, before you could turn your head around, Sanzu pulls his gun out from the pants that sat beside him and aims it for the intruder.
“No!” You gasp just as the shot rings out. A thud follows as you turn fully to eye your now dead husband.
“Oh my…!” Your head is forced to face Sanzu, the hand free of the gun holding the back of your head as the one holding the weapon wraps around your waist, his thrusts starting again as he purposefully aims deep into your pussy. You moan out as tears fall, the pleasure contrasting with the fear and guilt in your heart. He pulls your forehead against his as he continues to fuck into you.
“This is mine.” He aims the barrel of the gun on your pubis, finger against the trigger. You stare wide eyed into his crazed blue orbs. “Only mine, got it?” You nod as he removes the gun and replaces the arm back around your waist.
He continues until you both reach your orgasms, riding them out against each other as you lean your head on his shoulder, questioning everything that brought you to this point.
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 8 months
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Perfect Family
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Pairing: Dark Peter Parker x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
SUMMARY: Peter knows you’re about to break up with him. So what’s the next logical step? Get you pregnant, obviously. 
WARNINGS: Babytrapping; Toxic relationship; Birth control Tampering. 
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.
--
Peter knows exactly what you’re planning, after all he knows everything about you. You’re his other half, his soulmate. 
That’s how he knows you’re planning to break up with him. When he found out through the messages you had been sending your best friend he couldn’t believe his eyes.
How could you ever want that? You love him, he’s sure of that. 
You’re always telling him you love him, before you leave for your college or when you’re about to go to bed. Even if it’s with a blank face, rushing the words out of your mouth before you walk away, without a sincere smile. 
He makes sure to keep an update on the messages, his heart practically skipping a beat when you reveal your plan to break-up after your first-year anniversary, just a few weeks away.  
Peter forces himself to remain calm and to act as if he knows nothing, keeping up with the caring boyfriend’s character. He can’t raise suspicion now.
If his plan works out, you won’t be going anywhere.
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“I’m pregnant.” you declare with a shaky voice. Peter stops, the plate falling off his hold and crashing into the ground. 
“Peter, I’m so sorry. I-I don’t know how this happened, I swear I took the birth control pills every day, I never missed them!” you exclaim, twisting your hands in anxiety.
Peter looks at you, his face completely expressionless and you fear the worst. You drop your head, panic starting to grow stronger. Peter is going to hate you for ruining everything.
You’re about to ruin both of your futures, but his especially. He wants to go to MIT, not become a dad so soon. 
“I’m truly so sorry and I-” Peter runs to you, elevating you into the air and swirling around as he lets out loud chuckles. 
“I can’t believe I’m gonna be a dad. Fuck, that’s the best news ever.” he exclaims, carefully dropping you back onto your feet. You clean the tears with the back of your hand, a small hopeful feeling growing inside you as you look at him. He looks radiant, much happier than what you had predicted. 
“R-Really? You’re not mad at me?” you hesitantly ask. Peter fondly smiles at you, cupping your cheek. 
“I could never be mad at you for this. It takes two to make a baby. Besides, it was always part of our future plans, right?” he says, dropping the last sentence with a lightly sketchy tone as if he’s waiting for you to agree but you ignore it, it’s probably your imagination acting up.
You can’t be a single-mother, you already know you won’t be able to deal with it and your child deserves to have both its father and mother together in their life, it’s the least you can do.
You can’t abandon Peter anymore. 
You nod as Peter drops on the ground, pressing his head against your belly. Your hand instinctively goes to his head, caressing his brown hair and his hand comes to cover your own. 
“This is perfect.” Peter whispers, pressing kisses towards your belly, where your baby is developing. “You, me and our baby. A perfect family.” 
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dollwrites · 9 months
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plsplspls teacher!gojo anal or something noncon anythingg
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— ⟡ dizzy drabbles disclaimer !!
all dizzy drabbles are written when i am extremely high ( or, dizzy ) and they don’t contain a trigger warnings list. if there’s no indication by the request, you can assume that the fic is nsfw + probably dark-leaning, if not blatantly dark. noncon, dub con, and other triggering content may be present, read with caution ( enjoy your experience <3 )
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gojo had been planning since the day he started mentoring you, for the exact moment that he would take your anal virginity. he knew you must never have taken it in the ass— you were far too sweet and subservient, abiding by all of the extra rules he put in place for you alone ( he did so to test your obedience and choose the best way to have you all to himself, of course ).
he decides to wait until the exchange event before he makes his move; during one of the group battles, when you’re separated from your peers, he pounces.
gojo had fantasized about this very moment so many times.
the moment where you squirmed beneath him, pushed with your upper body smushed against the rough bark of a large tree, as he held handfuls of your ass cheeks, teasing himself and you by spreading them wide, scraping at your clenching ring with the very tip of his thumb.
he loves the way you whimper ‘no’ as his thumb pushes in raw, and your fingers grip the bark tighter. you couldn’t fight him; that was your teacher, after all.
“don’t you worry, princess, i’m not going to hurt ya.” the way he croons it is so flippant that it is obviously a lie. at the very least, he leans forward and allows spit to drizzle from his lips and glob between your cheeks, which he rubs against your hole with his thumb, before pushing it inside again. “such a tight fit, i’ll have to tease you a bit to open you up before you’d be able to take my cock.” as he says this, his free hand hooks under your midriff, his fingers rubbing at your cunt, feeling around in rough circles until he finds your bud. though you sniffle and beg him to stop, he works your clit until it’s swollen, and you’re dripping slick, clenching around nothing— all the while, he’s pumping his thumb in and out of your ass, getting you used to the feeling of taking something in this uncharted territory.
it’s a totally different story when gojo forces his cock in, instead. your eyes go wide as your brain is flooded with the sensations of this invasion. you were way too tight to accommodate something as big and gojo’s cock, and you pushed yourself on to your tiptoes, pulling with your nails dug deep into the wood to escape him, but he merely takes a couple of steps forward and smashes his body against your back. you’re trapped, with his weight shoving you into the tree, and you can do nothing to stop his conquest. “now, now, i wanted to be as gentle as possible, but if you insist on fighting me,” gojo smacks his finger pads against your button roughly, his mouth right up against your ear, “i’ll have to subdue you and take it by force. you don’t want that, right? for your friends to find you tied up, unconscious, dripping cum from a sore, little asshole?” when you sniff and shake your head, he pouts, mocking you. “no? good girl, that’s exactly right.” planting a sloppy kiss on your ear, he ruts into you, fucking you deep and slow, making sure you feel every inch, bottoming out hard to hear your voice break as you plead with him to just stop. he’s breaking you, that’s what you keep telling him, but he just grins and even laughs a breathy, grunting laugh at your desperation. “if you just stand there and let me have it, i might even make you feel good once i’ve cum in your ass. whattya say, sweetheart? when i’ve gaped you out, i’ll lick that warm pussy as a way to say thank you for letting me rape your ass.”
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golden-cherry · 2 months
Text
deal - cl16 (25/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: Having lunch with friends always leads to sharing information. And girl, those friends don't hold back.
Warnings: 18+ (mentions of smut), fluff, Kika is the bestest friend on this planet, mentions of Carlos and his girlfriend (yes, I consider this a trigger)
Word Count: 3.3k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: I just reached 2.6k followers and wow!! thank you so much!!! I love you! and this one is for you!!! feedback is appreciated.
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Although it's only a few days until Christmas, the sun is shining so brightly that it's pleasantly warm as you and Kika leave the furniture store. As planned - but still with an uneasy feeling - you have left the almost overflowing shopping cart in front of the checkouts and while Charles pays for your "early Christmas present", you and your friend walk to the restaurant.
"I hope all this stuff fits in the car." Kika curls her mouth into a grin. "The mirror I wrote on the note - you know, the one they have to get from storage - is pretty big."
"I'd like to have your guts," you answer her. "Just picking out a huge mirror without knowing exactly whether it will fit anywhere in our apartment."
Kika grins and points to her brown eyes. "Eye measurement, baby. Those marbles are that big for a reason."
You have to stifle a laugh. "If you say so."
While the Portuguese woman plans where in your room she will place which decoration, your thoughts drift off. 
It bothers you a little that Charles wants to spend so much money on you. And for no good reason. "I want you to feel comfortable" was his explanation, which is of course very courteous and loving of him. But you could have bought the things with your own money. At least a small part of it. 
Would he expect a similarly expensive gift for Christmas now? If so, what could you get him? What do you give someone who already has everything? 
"Are you mad at me?" Kika interrupts your flow of thoughts and grabs your elbow. 
Confused, you turn to her. "What?"
"I - I don't know." When she stops, you're forced to stop too. "I didn't tell you that Charles is a famous Formula 1 driver. You - you confided in me about Raphael and I kept you in the dark about your roommate." 
You exhale. "Kika..."
"I wasn't a good friend and I'm sorry about that. Charles had asked us all not to tell because he wanted to protect you and enjoy the time with you when he was just Charles to you. Even if it wasn't fair to you. I can understand if you're angry with me and-"
"I'm not angry with you," you interrupt her and smile at her. "You're Charles' friend first and foremost and I can't blame him or you for keeping his secret. It doesn't affect our friendship in the slightest."
"Promise?" Her tone sounds a little more pleased than it did a few moments ago. 
You nod. "I promise."
She hooks back into you. "Thank goodness for that. I felt super bad because I couldn't tell you. But it wasn't my secret and it wasn't my place to tell you. And I'm really relieved that you see it the same way." She rests her head on your shoulder as you continue walking. 
"So you're a model, huh?" you ask her. 
She nods. "Yes. Well, I put a lot of effort into it and it's very tiring at times." Kika shrugs her shoulders. "But because of that - and Pierre, of course - I get to travel a lot and see great places. And I really appreciate that." She looks at you. "Now that you're unemployed -" You give her a dirty look. "Maybe you'd like to take my pictures sometime. And then I can post it on my Instagram and maybe other models will want to book you."
"You haven't seen any of my pictures yet," you reply with a laugh as she grabs your hand and jumps up and down. "Of course we can. We can try it out if you like."
Your friend looks around briefly before letting go of you and moving away from you. "How about now? I know you don't have your camera with you, but you can use my phone. The photos won't be as focused as with a real camera, but it should be enough to get you started." 
She hands you her cell phone before standing opposite you against the wall of the house. You watch her uncertainly as she fixes her hair. "Are you sure about this? What if the boys are already waiting for us?"
"Let them." She pulls her black jeans up a little so that they sit loosely on her hips. "It won't take long. And I trust you. So here we go."
While Kika turns, repositions herself and smiles at the camera, you take as many pictures as you can. In between, you adjust her purple cardigan so that it sits in the middle of her narrow shoulders, tell her how her feet should be positioned to emphasize the curves of her body and even tousle her hair once so that a few strands fall loosely into her forehead. 
When you look at the pictures after ten minutes and favor three of them, she looks curiously over your shoulder. "They look great. Really outfit of the day vibe." You hand the phone back to her. "I like this one. And this one. You've captured my butt well," she grins and puts the phone in her black handbag before hooking it back up to you. "And now let's go. I'm really hungry and I don't want to keep your tiramisu from you."
Oh well. 
Charles' words - "Then lie down on the bed, mon amour. I'd like to see how you look on it" - haunt your mind and the images that appear in your head don't make the situation any easier.  
For example, Charles kneeling between your legs and his gaze wandering hungrily over your body. How his hands rest on your thighs to open them a little wider so that he can lie comfortably on his stomach between them. How he slides his fingers under the hem of your panties to slowly pull them off your legs. And the way his mouth moves up from the soft skin of your thighs to where you want it to be. Need it to be. The way he opens his mouth and licks his tongue over his lips before closing the distance between you and - 
"Watch out. You start drooling." When you give Kika a confused look, she pokes you in the side. "I didn't know you could daydream about tiramisu."
"I wasn't even thinking about tiramisu," you defend yourself, but Kika doesn't believe a word you say. 
"Of course not." You could even hear her grin if you weren't looking at her. She lifts her hand and puts it to your cheek, playfully wiping the non-existent spit from the corner of your mouth. "I hate to repeat myself, but you're really not very good at lying."
You chew the inside of your cheek and look down at your sneakers. "Is it that obvious?"
"That you're totally into tiramisu? Hardly," she replies wryly, but puts her arm around your shoulder. "Let's be honest. A trained eye like mine can spot something like that, but if you're worried about the boys seeing it - you really don't need to worry. They wouldn't even recognize a dessert if you put it right in front of them."
"I just don't know what to do," you confess to her. 
Kika purses her lips. "Would you be ready for tiramisu after everything that's happened?"
A question you don't know the answer to. After Raphael's betrayal, you had actually sworn off men for a long time for fear that something similar would happen to you again. You tried to build a wall around your heart, but Charles has broken it down piece by piece and now there is only him. He has spread inside you, in your head and in your heart, and you are hungry for him - a feeling that you have never felt for Raphael before. A feeling that takes you by surprise and overruns you like an avalanche and you are helplessly at its mercy. 
"It's not the end of the world if you're ready for it," Kika assures you and her smile is genuine. "And when you're ready to give the tiramisu its real name, I'll be here if you want to talk about it."
You hug your friend tightly, causing her to let out a loud gasp. "Thank you, Kika. Really."
"You don't need to thank me. After all, I'm going to make full use of the mirror in your room soon and use you for your photography skills."
A few minutes later, you arrive at the small restaurant. As you enter through the glass door, you can already see the two men sitting at a table at the back. And Kika was right - apart from the four of you, the restaurant is deserted. 
"Where have you been?" asks Pierre as you join them. While Kika sits down opposite her boyfriend, you take the empty seat next to her. "We've been waiting for ages."
"We had to stop for a moment because I wanted to take photos," Kika explains and shows them both one of the pictures you took of her.
Pierre grimaces in amazement. "Very good photos. I hope you tag her in them too."
Playfully indignant, she puts her hand to her cleavage. "Of course! What makes you think I wouldn't do that? It might even land her more photo shoots with other models." She leans in your direction. "But as long as I remain your favorite model, everything's fine."
"You are and always will be my favorite model, Kika," you reply and briefly lean your cheek against the top of her head before she sits up straight again. 
While Kika and Pierre argue lovingly, you feel Charles pressing one of his legs against yours under the table. When you look at him, he smiles. "Everything okay?" he asks silently, tilting his head. 
You nod. "Everything's perfect." You press your leg against his as well.
The risotto you ordered doesn't taste too bad, even if it is a little more fancy than your typical meals. The boys talk about their sport and you try to understand everything, but when the conversation eventually turns to engines, you stop listening. 
You watch Charles as he talks energetically and passionately to his friend about his job, while the French mainly listens. He tries to explain things with his hands, waving them wildly in front of his face, and if you didn't know him, you'd think he was a bit out of his mind. But there is something twinkling in his eyes, a spark that shines brighter and brighter the longer he talks about Formula 1.
It makes him so attractive that you have to swallow. 
"How are Carlos and his girlfriend doing?" Kika interjects into the conversation. "I saw on Instagram the other day that they went on a trip together."
You look from Kika to Charles. "Who is Carlos?"
"My teammate at Ferrari. The other driver," he explains briefly with a smile before turning to Kika. "I've seen that too. Santorini or something, wasn't it? It was definitely nice, but let's see how long it lasts."
You have to ask again. " How long will it last? That doesn't sound like you have much faith in the relationship."
Kika, who has taken a sip of her water, puts her glass back on the table. "Unfortunately, this has nothing to do with faith," she explains and takes her cell phone out of her bag. She taps on it a little until she hands it to you. 
You see an Instagram page of a Becca, also a model, it seems. 27 years old, model at the Bijou Management agency. Her last post is actually from Santorini and alongside all the pictures of her lolling by the pool is one of her with a man. Carlossainz55 is tagged in the picture.
"When you're famous, it's harder to have a relationship," Pierre continues. "Not everyone is so lucky and falls in love with someone who is a good match for them. Sometimes rumors surface about people that aren't true, but still damage reputations. And to counteract this, some people go into relationships that put them in a good light."
You look around in confusion. "So it's a marketing strategy? So that people can sell themselves better?"
Charles nods. "These PR relationships are very conspicuous and usually easy to see through, but even then they distract from the actual rumor."
"And Carlos and Becca are in one of those PR relationships?" Your friends nod. "And what's the rumor that needs to be put to rest?"
Charles bites the inside of his cheek. "Carlos was with a young, super-nice woman for years. When they broke up, there was a rumor that he had a secret family and even a son. That this was the reason for the break-up. And that triggered a few conversations at Ferrari." He shrugs his shoulders. "And then they pulled Becca in for him."
You furrow your eyebrows. "Pulled her in? How do you find someone to willingly agree to a fake relationship like that?"
Kika catches your attention. "Some racing teams have a cooperation with certain modeling agencies for such cases. Which of course makes the whole thing even more conspicuous. But just think how much publicity the girlfriends get from it. It definitely doesn't hurt the modeling job."
"But you also have to understand that millions of euros are attached to a driver's reputation," Pierre explains. "Fans buy tickets to see their favorite driver. They buy merchandise like shirts, caps or whatever to show their loyalty. And loyalty is not exactly low. Ask Charles. One priest has his whole Instagram page dedicated to him."
As you look at your roommate, he can only nod. "That's true. Fans put their favorites on pedestals, praise them to the skies and would defend them to the bitter end. But a rumor that is so serious and has consequences like falling sales figures - anything is better than fans who refuse to support their favorites."
"And why do you think it won't be good for much longer?" Charles looks nervously around the room as if he doesn't know what to say, and his friends also avoid your gaze and your question. "Guys, I don't know these people. So, whatever you tell me - I can't do anything with the information anyway. Is there another woman?"
"It's not exactly another woman," Kika mumbles into her glass and all heads turn in her direction. "What is it? Like she's going to run to the nearest news agency and tell them that the Spanish Ferrari driver isn't exclusively into women."
You raise your hands placatingly. "In case it's not clear - of course I'll keep everything that's said around the table to myself. I'm not crazy and risking our friendship."
"I didn't expect anything else," Charles replies with a smile that could melt glaciers. "I couldn't bear it if we weren't friends anymore either." 
As you look at him and mindlessly lick your lips, you feel Kika's elbow gently on your arm. 
"What do you think? Do you fancy some tiramisu?" 
Your gaze lingers on Charles and when he presses his leg a little harder against yours, your breath hitches. "I'm craving it."
And indeed. The tiramisu isn't as good as the one at the restaurant where you met Kika and Pierre, but it comes close. You try to look away from Charles, but every time you look at him, his eyes are already on you. Something that makes you even more nervous than it should. 
When you get into the car a short time later, unnoticed, you glance briefly over the seats back into the trunk. "Where's the new bed?"
Charles straps himself in and has the seat belt fastened against his torso. "They'll deliver it between Christmas and New Year and set it up straight away. Then I won't have all the work and Pierre won't have to lug it around with me."
"For which I am very grateful," replies the Frenchman, steering the car through the streets of Monaco. "I don't even know how we're going to transport this mirror without breaking it. It was already barely possible to get it into the car."
"That sounds like a you-problem," grins Kika, looking at her boyfriend through the rear-view mirror. "You're the strong men. You'll find a solution while we get all the little things into the apartment. Right?"
The question is directed at you, but apart from a nod, she can't expect anything else in response. Charles's fingers are once again wrapped around your calf, his thumb gently stroking your warm skin and you can't think of anything else but the feeling of warmth that spreads through you from this small touch. 
It takes a good hour for both the mirror and the rest to get to the upstairs in your apartment. After Pierre involuntarily teaches you several swear words in French and Kika decorates your entire windowsill with fake plants, they quickly make a run for it, worried that you're both going to take even more advantage of them than you already have. 
"We've had a good day so far," you call out to Charles from the kitchen as you pour you both a glass of water each. You don't know where he is, but he will probably have heard you anyway. 
"Definitely," comes his voice from the living room. As you follow it, you see Charles sitting on the large couch, his head back and his eyes closed. Only now do you notice how thick his neck is. Is it from all the training for Formula 1?
"Here." You hold his glass of water out to him and he opens his eyes to accept it. As you sit down, he takes a sip. You watch his Adam's apple bounce as he swallows. 
"Thank you," he replies quietly and rests his arm on the back of the couch. A sign for you to lean against him, which you definitely don't refuse. 
As you snuggle into his side and breathe in his unmistakable scent, you feel tiredness overtake you. "But it was exhausting."
""Mh-mhh." 
"Thanks again. For my early Christmas present. Even though it wasn't necessary," you joke, but as rigid as Charles is sitting next to you, he doesn't seem to be in the mood for jokes. And as you follow his stare, the roses on the white piano come into your field of vision. The reason why you suggested the trip to the furniture store. And suddenly your tiredness is blown away. 
"Do you happen to know anyone who has something like a fire bowl or something?" you ask your flatmate. 
This question seems to break him out of his spell. His gaze wanders from the roses to you and he raises an eyebrow in confusion. "A fire bowl?" You nod. "Joris has a rooftop terrace and we've had bonfires there before in the summer." He licks his teeth once. "What do you need a fire bowl for? You're not thinking about sitting around a fire with sticks and marshmallows in winter, are you?"
"Not exactly," you reply and get up from the couch. As you look down at him, you hold out your hand. "Come on, mon joli. I have an idea."
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writingwithciara · 3 months
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Missed Goal ~Quinn Hughes~
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summary: after the devils beat the canucks, quinn returns to his apartment, where his roommate has a plan to cheer him up
word count: 2.3k
pairing: quinn hughes x roommate!reader
notes: I feel so bad that quinn didn’t score a goal in the game against his brothers. Like my heart physically hurts just thinking about. My poor baby ☹ Anyways, I think there’s a touch of anxiety speak closer to the end but that’s pretty much it for triggers/warnings
masterlist
“Are you sure you can’t come to the game tonight?” Quinn asked his roommate as he rushed around their apartment, grabbing his gear. He looked up at her and waited for a response.
“I really wish I could but I have to work tonight. Sorry, Quinn.” y/n looked at her roommate and smiled. “But I will be watching from here and I’ll be cheering for you. You’re going to do amazing tonight.”
“I really appreciate that. Thanks.” He looked at his bag and then back up to y/n. “It’s not going to be the same without you there, but at least I know you’ll be cheering for me here.”
“I’d cheer for you anywhere. And that’s a promise.” y/n smiled and walked over to him, extending her pinky. He wrapped his pinky around hers and placed a kiss on it. It was a simple gesture. One they did before every single game.
“When I get home tonight, we can celebrate. Win or lose.”
“You’re going to win, Quinn.” y/n smiled at her best friend. “You may be playing against both of your brothers and they may be great but you’re better. You got this, Hughes. Now go and dominate those Devils.”
“Thank you for being you.” He grabbed his bag and walked out the door. Y/n went to her computer and began doing her work tasks.
A few hours later, she turned the game on and abandoned her work to cheer for Quinn. When Jack scored during the first period, she cheered. She wanted to be happy for the boys but whenever something good happened, it was never Quinn. Jack scored, Luke scored and it seemed like every other player got a goal except Quinn. He did get an assist but that didn’t make y/n happy. Instead, she felt extremely bad for him.
Every time the camera would cut to him, he would look defeated and that broke y/n’s heart. It was bad enough he always felt somewhat inferior to his brothers when it came to hockey, but for the commentators (and even some fans) to constantly point that out, was a little upsetting. She knew he would be upset when he got back home so she decided she would make him feel better.
She ordered his favorite food, knowing he’d be hungry when he got back, and she set out some relaxation options for him to choose from. All of his favorite ways to wind down after a game. As she admired her work, she hadn’t realized how long it actually took to set it up until the front door opened and she heard the keys hit the table.
“Hey. I’m home.”
Y/n walked out of Quinn’s room and when she saw him, her heart felt like it was barely hanging together. His hair was a mess and it was hard to tell but it looked like he got dressed in a hurry and that his shirt was inside out.
“Hey.” y/n stepped closer to him as he ran his hands through his hair for what was probably the millionth time since the game ended an hour ago. “I saw the game.”
“I was kind of hoping you didn’t.” he chuckled lightly.
“And why is that?”
“I didn’t want you to see how much I messed up tonight. I don’t ever want to disappoint you or make you regret cheering for me.” He sighed and collapsed on the couch. Y/n sat next to him and pushed him to continue. “I feel like I should be playing better this year but I’m not. And maybe that’s because I know Luke and Jack are better players and it’s terrifying.”
“Quinn, you didn’t mess up tonight. And even if you did, I would still be proud of you.” She looked at him and smiled kindly. It was the smile that always brought him back when he got lost in his own head. “Jack and Luke may be good players, but they only got that way from watching you do what you do. You’re an amazing player and an even better big brother.” She looked at him again and noticed he was focused on her words. She also noticed how hard he was trying to hold all his emotions in. “I ordered from your favorite restaurant so let’s eat and once you’ve got a little bit of energy back, we can talk, okay?”
“Oh, you’re the best.” Quinn smiled a little as he reached for the takeout containers. As they ate, the faint sound of the tv playing in the background seemed to relax Quinn a little bit but  y/n could tell he was still stressed. When he finished, Quinn put the empty container on the table and looked over at the girl sitting next to him. “Have I ever told you much I appreciate you? Because it’s really true.”
“You have told me a few times before but really, it’s the least I could do. I mean, you’re allowing me to live with you for pretty much free so being the best roommate I can be is what I’m doing in return.”
“You know, I honestly thank god for bringing you into my life.” Quinn admitted.
“You should thank Jack because if he hadn’t come up to me at the beach that one time when we were 8 years old, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Well, either way, I’m beyond grateful that you’re here and that you’ve been here for so long.”
“Awe, Quinn. You’re gonna make me cry.” y/n smiled and touched his arm gently. The action made him get a little nervous suddenly. When she removed her hand, he felt heat where it had been. Suddenly, everything felt different. The atmosphere became warm and intense but Quinn couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “So, anyway, I have some options to help you relax. Go in your room and pick out whatever it is you want and I’ll make it happen.”
Quinn got up and quickly walked to his room. As he looked at each options carefully, he thought about everything y/n has ever done for him. She has put him first in every possible situation and she’s always there when he feels the weight of the world on his shoulders. She knows exactly what’s going on in his mind at all times. They’re connected in a way that is unexplainable. She is the only one he knows he can come to when he’s feeling the stress and pressure of his career and he knows that she can easily lift all the worries away, even with a simple smile. Suddenly, it clicked. He was falling in love with her.
He picked up the bath stuff and walked back out to the living room, where y/n was busy cleaning up.
“So, how will you be relaxing tonight, Quinn?”
“I’m gonna take a nice hot bubble bath and think about some things.” He smiled and headed towards the bathroom. “Thank you.”
While he did his thing in the bathroom, y/n figured she would set up a mini movie night for after his bath. She popped some popcorn, set out some other snacks and put out a few drinks. She even queued up one of his favorite movie. Monster’s Inc. She knew he would enjoy something light-hearted and fun to finish off the night.
After nearly an hour of Quinn being in the bath, y/n started to get worried. She walked over to the bathroom door and knocked lightly.
“Quinn, you alright in there?”
“Yeah. I’m doing alright.” He chuckled from behind her. She turned around and Quinn was walking out of his bedroom and was in the middle of putting his shirt on. Y/n found herself staring at his body and the way his muscles flexed as the shirt went over his head and over his torso.
“I, um, got a movie all set up and ready for you to enjoy. I know how you like your alone time so I’ll just be in my room, finishing up something for work.”
“No. I want you to enjoy the movie with me. I had plenty of alone time in the car on the way to and from the game, plus that time in the bathroom. I think after the night I’ve had I would really love the company. Especially if it’s your company.” He mentally cringed at the last comment but when he looked at y/n, she was sporting a big smile.
“Well, in that case, I would be honored to be your movie buddy tonight.” She guided him back to the living room and started the movie.
About halfway through the movie, y/n glanced over at Quinn and he looked like he was lost in his head again. She paused the movie and softly placed her hand on the back of his neck, gently playing with the hair that was there. He closed his eyes and thought about the calmness her touch brought him.
“What’s on your mind, Cap?”
“Be honest with me, alright?” he looked at her and when she nodded silently, he closed his eyes and continued to speak. “Am I actually a good player? Or do people just like me because of my brothers? Is Jack a better hockey player than I am? Is Luke?”
“In my honest opinion, I think people love you because you’re incredibly good at what you do, not because of your brothers. You have a kind heart and I love getting able to see that loving side of you every day. People might like Jack better because he’s good looking and they might like Luke better because he’s just adorable. But you wanna know what I think? I think you’re one of the best damn players the NHL has ever had. You’re not a perfect player, but nobody is. Not only that, but you are kind, funny, smart, loving, caring and just perfect in pretty much every sense of the word, Quinn. Some people may not like you, but who cares? You have so many more fans than anyone can count. And your biggest fan? Well she’s sitting on the couch with you, reassuring you that you have no reason to worry. She ditched her work responsibilities to watch you play against your brothers and her heart broke whenever the camera showed that you were upset. She is your biggest cheerleader and wants you to know that she would never favor your brothers over you. Your biggest fan loves you a lot, Quinn. More than you could ever know.” y/n moved her hand from the back of his neck to his arm. He looked at her to search her eyes for any sign that she was lying but he couldn’t find any.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Always.”
“I love you.” He looked at his hands nervously. He had never told a girl he loved her before and now here he was, spilling his soul to his best friend. It made him worry that she would reject the idea. But when she began to run her hand up and down his arm, he felt better about his confession. “And I want you to know that I have never said those words to a girl before so this is new for me.” He took the chance to look at her and when he saw her smile, he knew he needed to get everything out. “I’m not sure when I started feeling this way but I honestly think the feeling has always been lingering in my heart. You have always been by my side and even though Jack is the reason we met, I love that you always preferred me over him. You are the one person in my life who has never loved my brothers more than me, and I love you even more for it. I love you and everything about you, y/n. You make me feel so much better, even on the gloomiest days. The ones where I don’t want to talk to anyone and stay in my room.  Those are my favorite days because even though I say I don’t want to talk to anybody, you always find a way around that and you cheer me up with absolutely no effort. And living here with you these last few years, watching the amount of guys that would stay for a night and be gone by morning, killed me. I didn’t know why at the time, but now I’m sure of it. Y/n, I’m really in love with you.”
Y/n didn’t say a word. Instead, she grinned and moved to straddle his lap. She didn’t break eye contact once. “I’m in love with you too, Hughes.”
And with that being said, their lips met in the middle and fit together perfectly. With each passing second, the intensity behind the kiss kept on growing. Years of feelings being poured out into one simple action. When y/n’s lips parted, Quinn took the opportunity to slip his tongue in, eliciting a small moan from the girl on his lap. He placed his hands on her back and pulled her closer as the kiss deepened. His large hands found their way under her shirt and rested on her waist while hers were tangled in his now extremely messy hair.
“Is it bad that all I wanna do is stay in this position for the rest of my life?” Quinn asked when they finally took a moment to breathe.
“Well, I’m not going anywhere.” y/n pulled him in for another intensely passionate kiss.
All 3 of the Hughes brothers ended up scoring that night.
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taglist: @worldlxvlys @jackquinnswife
477 notes · View notes
Text
i’ll drive, i’ll drive all night - part two
Katie McCabe x reader McCabe
(teen younger sister)
part 1 part 3
Trigger warnings: a lot of talk about sexual assault and self blame,references to self harm and minor reference to suicidal thoughts, overall just poor mental health
AN: Not the best writing, it’s more of just me trying to put my own feelings and experiences into words. Also i have dyslexia so spelling/grammar isn’t the best sorry 😅
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You wish you never went out that night, most nights you stay awake wondering what would life be like if you didn’t go out if you had just stayed home to watch katie play for ireland on tv like you had planned, if you had accepted your brothers offer to hang out for the day, if you hadn’t needed to go to the bathroom that night, if you had worn something less ‘sluttier’, if you didn’t put on so much makeup.
You blamed yourself, how could you have been so careless, you know the risks of going to parties at your age with people who your barley knew nor trusted, if you had followed your mams rules it wouldn’t have happened, if you weren’t so stupid and ignorant you’d never had been in that position. You shouldn’t have gone up the stairs with him trusting that he was just showing you to the bathroom, you knew better then that you should have known better.
Even now as your sat cuddling katie your head hidden away in her arms, tears streaming down your face, you can feel him, sense him, you know your being dramatic and it was your fault you knew this but it doesn’t make the feelings any better, you pull apart from Katie suddenly feeling trapped, the air feeling quite thick making it even harder to breathe then it already had been, you were panicking now it felt like the world was caving in in you, like you was suffocating as though your lungs were caving in.
“bug can you hear me? sweetheart i need you to take a deep breathe in for me, come on breathe with me, watch my chest y/n”.
Following katie’s words you watch as her chest rises up and down slowly, you notice her exaggerated breathes as she tries to get you to follow her breathing pattern, to try and get your breathing back to a healthy state, eventually after watching her chest for a few more minutes and having katie whispering soft words to you, stroking your forehead as she does so you, you can feel your breathing returning back to normal.
“We don’t need to speak tonight sweetheart, how about you go up to the spare room and just get some sleep, we can talk tomorrow alright?”
You agree instantly no longer wanting to talk to katie about what was happening, you weren’t to sure that you’d even be able to explain to her what was going on in your mind, although your fairly certain she just about understood what you were referring to before you broke down.
“go upstairs kiddo, i’ll be up in two minutes just need to lock the house up alright and then i’ll get you some clothes to get changed into”
Slowly you make your way upstairs, going into the bathroom to your face out, washing away any evidence that 10 minutes you’d been crying into your older sisters arms.
You look briefly in the shower, spotting the pink razer on the shelf, you don’t use it in the way you’ve been using razors recently instead you just stare at it, you want to use it so badly, so badly it almost hurts, you wanted to get away for a while, for everything to just go numb for a least a couple minutes
“Y/n can i come in”
The sound of Katie’s voice makes you jump dropping the razor into the sink as you do so. You’d been so close, so close to using it, it scared you how easy it was for you to find things to hurt yourself, but also how easily it was for you to do it, without having a care in the world you could mark your skin permanently and that scared you in fact it horrified you, how easy it was for you to lose control.
Hearing the door click open, you turn around from facing the mirror looking at katie who was now stood in the bathrooms door way, leaning against the frame, she looked like she’d been crying, because of you, your the reason she’s upset you realise.
“y/n what are you doing?”
hesitant to answer you opt to look around the bathroom, noticing how it’s changed since you’d last been here, the once green walls were painted white and you noticed a newly added bath.
You want to avoid her worried expressions, the way she spots the razor in the sink and not on the shelf where she could’ve sworn it was left, your shaking hands.
“nothing sorry”
Katie’s looks up at the ceiling taking a deep breath as she does so before focusing her attention back on you
“what were you doing with that”
she nods to the razor in the sink, keeping her eyes on you.
“nothing”
Katie rolls her eyes at you, shaking her head.
“you and i both know what you were going to do, i’m not stupid y/n”.
Katie’s reply stumped you, not entirely sure if she wanted you to just say it outright or just acknowledge that yes you wanted to hurt yourself or if that was even what her assumption was.
“Okay you don’t want to speak tonight i get it, you’ve had a tough day, we’ll speak tomorrow alright bug? i’m so proud of you for starting to speak to me earlier though, i love you goodnight y/n, remember im only next door and if you need me or you need anything at all don’t hesitate to knock alright?”
she lets you know breaking the silence, her words hang in the air as she leaves the bathroom, although not before taking the razor with her.
~~~
Getting under the covers in Katie’s spare bedroom, you can hear her soft mumbling on the phone outside your room, you think she’s talking to your mam about you, what she saw in the bathroom and the mess of what happened in her living room.
After awhile you heard katie end the call, you listened as the bathroom door opened and shut, as she turned all the upstairs lights off, as she paused outside your door for a few seconds and then eventually you heard the bedroom door click shut. The house going still and silent.
Once upon time the dark had scared you, when you were still little and innocent, when you thought that monsters lived under your bed so you needed your da to scare them away every night before bed, when your mam would tuck you up in bed in your pink dotted pyjamas and read you stories before giving you a kiss goodnight, turning your night lamp on and closing your door, you’d cry out for your mam or da to come and take you to their bed. Darkness scared you then, not anymore though instead it became something you craved, you lived for when everyone went to sleep and the house went dark and quiet.
It was the only time when you could truly think and feel every emotion of the day, when no one was there to judge you, sometimes you wish you could lay in the dark forever and never get up, sometimes you wish death would take you on your sleep, you wished that maybe this would be the last time you closed eyes, othertimes you remember your still a teenagers and life won’t be like this forever.
Laying in katie’s spare bed starring up at the ceiling you couldn’t sleep, you lay awake in the dark replaying the events of that night over and over again, it was like this every single night, you’d replay your every action that night, what drinks you had, who you had been with, how you could’ve prevented it from happening and it always circled back to that same point you shouldn’t have gone upstairs, you wish you could take it back, wish that you did everything differently, you wish so desperately you were that carefree kid with pig tails running circles around your siblings giggling without a care in the word.
~~~
The next morning was weird, you’d hadn’t slept at all, this had become a common occurrence, in fact you wasn’t sure when the last you had actually slept was, around 8am Katie popped her head round the door expecting you to still be sleeping having not been awake long herself.
Looking up she frowns at you “have you actually been to sleep y/n?” she questions her frown becoming more evident.
you shake your head “no i can’t sleep sorry” you mumble back at her, avoiding her gaze.
Katie so desperately wanted to know what was going on with you, she wants to know why you can’t sleep, why your getting into trouble constantly, and she needed more clarity on what you were trying to tell her last night, she already had an inkling to what you meant and it broke her heart, knowing that someone had stripped her baby’s sister innocence away from filled her with a kind of rage she’s never experienced, how could someone do that to her? her carefree, loving, kind, beautiful sister.
“i came in to let you know that cait has practice today but i’m gonna stay home with you alright? we can have an open and honest conversation okay?” she says smiling up at you “and you don’t ever need to say sorry for struggling, i love you”.
You nod in agreement getting out of bed as you do so, following katie down the stairs.
walking down the stairs you wonder what the conversation will be like later, what she’s going to say to you, what her reaction will be to you basically ruining your life, for spilt second you wonder if she’ll be angry at you, yesterday was the first time you’ve ever seen her anger directed at you, she never shouted at you, not even when she was a moody teenager wanting to be alone she had always made time for you, played with you when the others said no, ma used to tease her for it “y/ns got you wrapped round her finger Katie” she’d say as you convinced her to play trains downstairs, you had been as close as siblings could be, even when she left and moved to london you were still close, visiting as much as you could and going to as many games as school allowed, you feel bad realising you’d never given any explanation to your older sister, you just stopped calling, stopped visiting, she hadn’t done anything wrong you just didn’t want to talk knowing that she’d having you poring your little heart out in minutes of hearing her voice.
“Morning y/n” caitlin shouts enthusiastically startling you “would you like some toast? or cereal?”
“No thanks i’m not that hungry sorry”
this causes both caitlin and katie to frown, “you didn’t have dinner last night y/n and you probably didn’t have lunch either” Katie says butting in, you nod in agreement “i didn’t but i’m just really not hungry kats” you tell her sincerely not wanting to keep lying to her face.
“okay but your having something soon and i will not be taking no for an answer” she lets you know giving you a pointed look.
~~~
You and Katie had had a pretty chill morning, neither of you yet to address the talk that was supposed to be happening. Katie had made you come with her to drop caitlin off at training stopping at Starbucks on the way home, despite the chill morning your nerves were at an all time high waiting for katie to start the questions, you knew you weren’t going to get away with lies and so you’d gone through exactly what you wanted to say and how you wanted to say it.
it was around 12 when katie paused the tv show you’d been watching and came over to sit next to you calling coopurr over in hopes to give some comfort.
“Ma wants you to come live me” she lets out looking at your face for some kind of reaction, she had been expecting you to be angry, taking you away from your home, your friends.
Your not really sure what to say, you think moving away could help you, a fresh new start where no one knows you, you wonder if your ma was washing her hands of you, no longer wanting to be associated with the failure of daughter she now had, you wouldn’t blame her if that was the case however the more rational side of you realised your mam didn’t have a bad bone in her body and if she thought it would help you then you’d do it.
Slowly nodding your head you agree “i think a new start would help me” you tell
her honestly.
Katie hasn’t prepared for this answer, she thought you’d storm out, start shouting at her, she hadnt expected you to agree instantly with zero arguments.
The pair of you sit in silence for a few minutes, you were unsure how to approach the conversation that needed to be had and Katie didn’t really know what to say, how to get you to open up to her”
“Talk to me y/n”
You don’t want to talk, but parts of you know that you’d probably feel better if you did, it was something your ma had rammed into you from an early age, talking always helps.
“i don’t know what to talk about”
For once your being genuine , to much had happened since you’d last saw Katie, to many things were running round your mind that it was hard to pick one to talk about.
“How about we talk about the party”
you wonder if she knew what had happened, you thought it was fairly obvious from what you said the night before, even so you agree”
“he-h-he touched me” you say barley above a whisper “i didn’t want him to but he did and it’s all my fault im so sorry please don’t hate me” you sob out, fresh tears running down your face for what feels like the tenth time since you’ve been in London.
Katie’s wraps you up in a hug as your tears continue to fall, everything that had happened coming back to you, everything you’d have built up coming out in tears streaming down your face.
The look on katie’s face was heartbreaking she already knew what you meant from what you said last night, she wasn’t naive but hearing you say it aloud and blame yourself, apologising to her, killed her, knowing how long you’d kept it in blaming yourself what happened. How could someone do that to her baby sister, in her mind her sister was still that sweet little 8 year old, how could anyone do that to her, she was shattered, that night she had run through all the possibilities of what you could’ve meant hoping praying to god that you hadn’t meant that, she was furious, furious with the boy, furious with herself for not spotting the signs, furious at the universe for putting her sweet baby sister through this.
“Thank you for trusting and telling me baby, it wasn’t your fault, it will never be your fault you didn’t ask for it, what you were wearing or what you drank or how you behaved wasn’t asking for it, you were just trying to have fun at a party with your friends, nobody deserves or is ever at fault for being taken advantaged of, it wasn’t your fault y/n.
You want to believe her, you really want to believe that it wasn’t your fault but you just couldn’t it was like your brain was conditioned to believe that everything that ever went wrong in your life was your fault.
You think Katie gets at what you’re thinking.
“if someone came to you and told you what you told me, would you blame them? would you say it was all their fault”
This leaves you feeling stumped because you know for a fact you wouldn’t, you’d do everything in your power to make them know it wasn’t their fault, to help them just like katie is doing now.
You just shake your head unsure of what to really say.
“Exactly, look at me y/n you were 15 years old, trying to have fun on Tuesday evening like most teenagers do, it wasn’t your fault”.
For the first time since it happened you realised that maybe you weren’t at fault, you started to believe your older sister’s words because yes you had done some some things you shouldn’t have done but you didn’t deserve that.
Katie seemed to have realised that in the last minute or so you’d relaxed more, there were no longer tears running down your cheeks nor were you shaking as much.
“How about you get some sleep y/n, i can tell your tired just close your eyes baby, i’m so proud of you for telling me y/n”
Closing your eyes move over to her side resting your head on her lap.
“will you stay?” you whisper up to her, she smiles and agrees.
“i love you y/n so much my baby sister”
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sweatervest-obsessed · 3 months
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Second Chances Are For Winners
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
WC: 2.7k
TW: Swearing, teasings, blood, abduction, breaking and entering, Criminal Minds General list of triggers apply here.
A/N: Hiya gang! so actually I have been so unmotivated to write and I just got back from vacation so I promise I will finish up VDVE soon. But please enjoy this mouth vomit that Just came out of my mind. It's a part one since the rest of it is mapped out, just not written! (also why is like every other gif his mouth moving. This man really just doesn't stfu and it's only hot on him)
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Spencer Reid being overwhelmed was an understatement. He needed to get out of that police station as soon as physically possible. JJ confronting him about his hostility towards her had not gone the way she had hoped it would, and Spencer was once again, fuming. 
The Oklahoma heat was not kind to someone who only wore sweater vests, a fact in which he would later start to reconsider when planning his outfits to places where the heat had personal vendettas against the living. As soon as he stepped outside, it was like he was met with a brick wall of temperatures well over what they should be. As the sweat dripped down his forehead, so did the tension. He took a couple of breaths before picking up the phone and dialing a number he knew all too well. 
“Speak and be heard, Wonder Boy” 
“Hey Garcia,” A small smile formed from hearing the familiar voice. “I need you to look up someone, and find their cell number for me, if that’s okay.”
He could hear Garcia roll across her ‘batcave’, “Hit me.”
“Her name is Y/N Y/L/N…” 
“Give me two seconds…..Isn’t she—” 
“Garcia, please.” 
He could hear the smirk forming across her face as her fingers flew across the keys. 
“You’re looking up more than her number…”
“One point for Boy Genius everybody. Yes, I’m looking up more than just her phone number. She’s the gorgeous mystery woman who kissed your cheek in front of the whole team—of course I’m going to look her up now that I have her name.”
Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose, starting to regret the decision to call Penelope in the first place. “Can you just send me her number and snoop around later Garcia?” 
“Fine Genius.” His phone beeped. “Just sent it to you.” 
“Thank you Penelope.” 
“Anytime Boy Wonder.” Reid hung up the call before looking at the screen, opening the text Garcia had sent him. He smiled at the number, and almost dialed before thinking better of it. Maybe after the case, he’ll call you and take you out for lunch to catch up. But it’s nothing more, Spencer decided. You probably didn’t feel the same way, but at least he knew that there was someone who wasn’t a part of the team in which he could finally vent his frustrations to. Now he’ll finally be able to get an objective view on the whole Emily situation. 
Spencer looked at the file in his hand and sighed, opening it up. As he was reading through it for the umpteenth time, something occurred to him, and he quickly made his way back into the station, and towards his team. 
_____________________________________________________________________________
Once the jet touched down in DC, Spencer was the first one off the plane. He walked through the hanger, and towards his car. He could feel the others watching him, especially Emily, but his mind was elsewhere. 
He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out, dialing the number Garcia had sent. 
“Y/L/N and Associates, how may I help you today?” 
Spencer didn’t even try to bite back the smile before he cleared his throat, reaching into his back pocket to grab his keys. 
“Hi, yes, I was wondering if I could speak with Y/N Y/L/N?”
“Sure, let me make sure she’s available. Her meeting should be ending soon. Can I ask what this is for?” 
Spencer pursed his lips before answering. “She, uh, just told me to call this number.” 
He heard the person on the other end shuffle something around before answering, “Good enough for me.” They hummed. “Can I just get a name?”
“Yeah–uh, Spencer–Spencer Reid.” 
“Give me one moment Mr. Reid” was all he heard before he was put on hold. He sighed and entered his car, chucking his go-bag into the passenger seat. As Spencer turned on the car, he heard your voice.
“Spencer?”
His face lit up, and a smile graced his features. 
“Hey! Yeah. Um” He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Hi.” 
She laughed. “I knew you’d find me eventually, Doctor, but a whole week? I feel that maybe your profiling skills need a bit of sharpening.” 
“Well–I was, I was working on cases. I-I didn’t forget—”
You cut him off, voice softer than he remembered. “I’m just teasing Spencer. So what do I owe the absolute pleasure of having Doctor Spencer Reid grace my line.” 
“Well, I was hoping you’d give me your cell number so I don’t have to annoy your secretary…”
You were silent for a moment. “Well my number is going to cost you something.” 
“Y-Yeah absolutely.” Answered a bit too quickly, almost out of breath. 
“I expect a meal sometime soon, and maybe throw in coffee one of these mornings as well.” 
Spencer smiled so brightly he almost couldn’t see the road as he was driving. 
“I-I, um, think that’s something I can do.” 
He heard you hum in agreement.
“What about tomorrow night?” 
Spencer paused. 
“I–...I actually can’t do tomorrow night, I have a team meeting, but what about breakfast the next morning?” 
He heard you shuffling papers around and a bit of typing on the keyboard before you answered him. “Seems like I’m all yours Doctor.” 
Reid smiled and parked his car outside of his apartment. 
“Then you’ll have to give me your cell phone’s number and it’s a sealed deal.”
“Are you usually this good at negotiations? Should I start prepping my list of demands for breakfast…” You joked, letting out a small laugh. 
Spencer shook his head before he realized you couldn’t see him. “N-No, well yes actually. It’s a part of the whole FBI thing.” 
You laughed at his joke before giving him your cell number. “I’ll see you soon Spencer. Bye.” 
As you hung up the phone, Spencer sent a quick “hey!” text before getting out of the car and heading up to his apartment. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a tense week after all. 
______________________________________________________________________________
The Team isn’t stupid. They’ve noticed that Spencer was somehow in a better mood when he arrived at the office the next morning, despite the way he basically ran away from the jet. They also noticed he was spending a lot more time on his phone than before, especially since Spencer was not the one to text. 
As Spencer dumped his sugar into his coffee mug, Derek came up next to him and started to prepare his own coffee. 
“Wanna tell me why you’re in such a good mood Pretty Boy?” 
Spencer pondered the offer for a moment before putting the sugar back on the counter, next to the coffee pot. “Nope.” and he walked back towards his desk. 
Derek was taken back a little bit, but finished his coffee. He made eye contact with Emily and shrugged. 
Emily was next, since her desk was next to Spencer’s. 
“Morning Spence…” 
“Morning Emily.” He quickly replied, and even flashed her a quick smile before his phone lit up and his attention was taken away from her. He sent a quick text, before placing his phone face down and started looking through his files to find the right paperwork to finish the consultation he had started before they left for Oklahoma. 
“Wanna tell me what’s going on with you?”
“Nope.” Spencer replied yet again, and now that Derek was back, he watched the same look pass through Emily’s face before she looked at Derek. 
Derek decided he was going to try a different tactic this time. “Hey Reid, wanna tell me who you're texting there man?” 
Derek’s face lit up like a Christmas Tree not even a moment later when Spencer ignored his question. 
“Is it…oh what was her name…”
“Ohhhh,” Emily joined in, “It’s the lawyer from last week…” 
Spencer just shrugged and tried to stay focused on the paper in front of him, yet all he had been doing for the past minute was rereading the same line over and over because all he could think about was when you were going to answer his text. 
“The lawyer, right right…” Derek smirked and looked at Emily, both knowing they hit the jackpot. “Wasn’t her name…Y/N?” 
At the mention of your name, Spencer made the mistake of sitting up a bit straighter, which both profilers noticed instantly.
“Oh so Y/N has been texting you all morning huh. Is that why you raced off of the jet last night? Couldn’t wait to go see he–”
“No.” Spencer cut off Derek, looking up at the pair. “I haven’t seen her since last week’s case. Now if the two of you wouldn’t mind leaving me alone I have a lot of paperwork I need to make it through before I head home tonight.” He turned back to the file in front of him and tried to read it again. And again. And again. Eventually, Spencer was able to continue his work once Derek and Emily let him be. 
But anytime his phone buzzed, he could feel the smirks from his friends, he just didn’t care. 
__________________________________________________________________________
You were so over your entire day. Every single one of your active clients decided that they had an issue that needed to be resolved in the second they called you. 
So when you woke up, face leaving a print against the wood of your desk, you let out a groan. 
The little clock in the corner of your laptop's screen flashed the time, causing you to let out a string of curses. 
“I cant fucking believe it’s 2 am. Fuck.” You grumbled, standing up and stretching your arms over your head. 
Your phone screen lit up with a notification, which also showed that you had missed a few text messages from your favorite profilers. The last one was a, correct, guess that you had fallen asleep at your desk. You smiled and responded with: 
Do you ever get tired of being right all the time Doctor Reid?
As you packed up your things, your phone buzzed. 
Not really. It’s just in my nature. 
You laughed out loud a bit, shaking your head. 
And why are you still awake? 
That’s when your phone rang. You held it in your hand, staring at it for a moment, before remembering to answer it. 
“Hello?”
“Did you even check caller ID or are you trying to encourage stalkers?” Spencer’s voice rang through your body as you let out another laugh, placing the phone between your shoulder and your ear, packing up the rest of your things. 
“Well Spencer, I seriously can’t think of another person to call me at this hour besides you…; and maybe this Baby Daddy who won’t leave me alone.” You grumbled, shoving your laptop into your bag with a little extra force than normal. 
“Baby daddy?” 
“Yeah, one of my clients, he’s a sweet guy—great dad. But because he’s so worried about his daughter having any sort of parenting time, he’s been calling me nonstop, freaking out about supervised visits. Like, I get it, but it’s fucking 2 am and I stop working at 5, maybe 6 the latest. 
You heard Spencer hum in response, but no words. “Spencer?”
“Yeah?”
“You okay?” 
“Ye-yeah, I uh–”
“Did…Did you think I was talking about someone I had a kid with?” 
Spencer sputtered out a “n-no, why–why would…”
You let out another laugh, that was like music to his ears. “Spencer, I feel like you should have figured that out from the way that you clearly used the FBI to look up my office number to get my cell number. You would’ve found out if I had kids.” 
“Y-Yeah I guess…” 
“Give me one second Spencer.” and before he could respond, you put your phone down, and pulled out your airpods, letting them connect to your phone so you could go hands free. 
“Can you hear me?” You placed your phone in your skirt pocket, adjusting your airpods so that they would be comfortable. 
“Yeah? Is everything okay?” 
“I just had to put my headphones on, I need my hands.” You slid on your heels, and walked out of your office locking the door. “Tell me about your day Spencer, I have to walk around and lock up.” 
Spencer hummed again and looked up at his ceiling. He had been sitting in his apartment, trying to read, waiting for you to answer his text–partially because he thought the worst, but mostly because he couldn't stop thinking about you. 
“Well. Not much happened. I was at work, and was trying to finish a report for this case I’m consulting on by sending them a preliminary profile, and then Derek was up my ass all day.” 
“What about?” You asked, placing your bag on the floor near the office, going to check the rest of the offices to make sure no one was still there. 
“Oh, um, well…”
You laughed again, causing his chest to swell again. “So it was me.” You teased me. “Excited to talk to me?”
You could feel Spencer turning redder and redder as the moments went on.
After a brief pause, Spencer responded to you. “And what if I am?”
It was your turn to blush, but it only made you feel a bit bolder. 
“Getting a bit flirtatious, Spence. This is not the Reid I once knew from all those years ago.”
You could hear Spencer laugh. 
“You sound tired. Why don’t you get some rest Spencer.” 
Spencer sat up straighter. “No. I’ll stay on the phone with you—” He interrupted himself with a yawn. “Until you get home. What kind of agent would I be letting you walk home alone at this hour.” 
“I’m not going to stop you, but if you fall asleep….I’m hanging up.” 
“Fine—Just text me when you get home?” 
You hummed and nodded. “Can do sweetheart. Night Spencer.” 
“Night Y/n” 
You hung up the phone and turned on your spotify, listening to some music that would make this fifteen minute walk bearable. You usually drive into work, but it had been such a nice day, and you usually don’t mind getting in the extra walk since you sit behind a desk all day. 
You paused before you exited the first set of doors—part of you felt like you should just go back upstairs and sleep in your office. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it would provide a certain agent with a lot more comfort knowing you’re somewhere safe. 
But then you thought about your bed, and the new sheets you put on the night before, and the weighted blanket spread out across the bed spread, and you realized you’d much rather sleep under that than on a stale couch without even a pillow. 
You managed to make a fifteen minute walk into a ten one. Speeding home at 2 am was not exactly what you wanted to do, but you’d rather that then the couch. You quickly unlocked the front door and made it up the stairs and into your apartment. 
You sent Spencer a quick text saying that you had arrived home, and immediately moved into your bedroom. 
The apartment was a small one bed, one bath. It would have been considered a studio if not for the door between your bedroom and the kitchen/living room/entrance/dining room. Your bedroom was quite small, with a skinny closet, a dresser, and your bed. You had gotten lucky enough to shove your bed against one wall, and create a reading nook in the turret window on the other side of the room, which was only about ten feet away, but still. 
You kicked off your shoes, and made your way into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and listening to whatever music spotify had decided to play for you. 
You took off your outfit for the day and pulled on your pajamas, which felt so good against your skin as you slid into your bed, and shut the lights off. 
You wished you took the first option when two minutes later, you heard your bedroom door creak open, and a voice tell you not to scream. 
To Be Continued...
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The Quiet One 6
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.
Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader
Note: have a good day.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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“So, what do you think?” Lloyd asks as he turns to you, outstretching his arms as he gestures to the endless hangers. “All yours. You got your pick.” 
You stand just inside the door of the walk-in closet. The space would take up at least half your apartment alone. You cross your arms as you glance along the rows of coloured fabric hung from the walls, organized in a perfect ombre effect of shades. On the far wall, there are shelves full of shoes and accessories, along with a vanity in the centre. 
“I know you’re a simple gal,” he grins, “but you don’t have to be anymore. Whatever you want, ain’t no mountain high enough and all that.” 
You nod and blow out between your lips. It all still feel surreal like a nightmare. You swallow and tamp down your discomfort. You didn’t hate the life you had. Your small apartment, manageable and tame. You prefer predictability, even if some might say it’s boring. 
“Erm, I dunno,” you slowly trail over to the other side of the closet. 
“Well, you could pick some shoes first. That might inspire you,” he suggests as he approaches you, “you don’t need to be too fancy, you know, you always look nice.” 
“Mm,” you nod,” thanks that’s...” 
You let the sentence hang. This is really freaking you out. Your chest feels tight and your head is buzzing. You shudder out a breath. 
“What... what am I choosing for?” You croak. 
“I told you, jellybean,” he puts his arm around you and pulls you against his side, “it’s a surprise.”  
He reaches to grab a hanger and holds it out at arm’s length. A blush-coloured satin dress with a bit of frill at the bottom of the skirt. It’s nothing you would choose yourself. 
“Sure, that’s nice,” you say, just to appease him. What else can you do? 
“Hm,” he hums, “you don’t like it?” 
“I didn’t say...” 
“You don’t sound very excited,” he pouts as he turns to you, his hand lingering on your hip, “none of it? I got it all for you.” 
“I’ll wear it,” you sniff, “I’m sorry, I’m just... I’m... adjusting.” 
You don’t know how else to explain it.  
He pushes his lower lip out and narrows his eyes, “sure, sure, makes sense.” He drags his hand off your hip and steps back, keeping the dress up as he angles it before you, as if he’s imagining you in it. “This is gonna look so hot, baby.” 
You do your best to stay placid. It’s harder as you heart pounds furiously. You can’t even begin to guess what he has planned but with everything he’s done and said, you know exactly what his intent is.  
“You should get washed up, huh? Then get dolled up. Like I said, won’t need much of that,” he winks, “you could walk in ass-naked and I’m sure you’d stun.” 
You can’t help how your mouth slants at his remark. 
“Alright, jellybean, let’s get you in the tub,” he lays the dress over the velvet bench and spins back, startling you as he grabs both hips and jerks you towards him with a growl, “can I watch? I promise, I’ll try not to touch. Yet.” 
You clasp onto his wrists with a yelp. He curls his lips eagerly and you repress your horror. You don’t want to antagonise. You don’t want him to get any worse than he is. 
“Um, did you want... to?” You murmur. 
“Fucking of course,” he urges you against him, “the things I want to do...” he smirks, “I’m quaking in my boots.” 
He bows to smother you with a kiss. His mustache pokes at your uper lip and up your nose as he hums and slides his tongue across your lips. You squeeze your mouth tightly shut but he pokes through, nearly choking you as he invades. You press your hands to his chest as he locks you into his embrace. 
Finally, he part and you gasp for breath. He snickers as you puff against him. Your skin is crawling as you wriggle in his hold. 
“Yum,” he purrs. 
He lets his arms fall away and quickly snags your hand. You let him drag you around to the door, your feet hollow as they move without a thought. Resistance is plainly not a choice. 
He takes you back into the adjoining bedroom, the one you awoke in, and through another door way against the perpendicular wall. He steps to the side as he tugs you forward and releases you. Your take in the sleek black walls and black tub, the silver shower head in a monochrome booth, and the ebon marble veined with sparkling white. 
“I get it, it’s going to take a lot of getting used to,” he boasts, “this is our home, sweet cheeks. Remember that. You treat it like your very own... it is. Just like me, all yours.” 
You pad slowly inside, if only to keep a distance from your captor. You won’t forget what he is. He can give you all the luxurious things but you remember the days of starvation, of terror. He can’t see himself for what he is but you do. 
“Face masks, body scrub, bath bomb, shower gel, bonnet, robe,” he points at the fluffy purple robe still around you, “slippers,” he flicks his finger towards the mat beside the door, “lotions, creams, everything you can dream of. Oh damn, I can call a nail tech if you want a fresh mani--” 
“Uh, no thanks,” ball up your fists, hiding your short-trimmed nails, “that’s not... that’s okay.” 
“Only the best for you, kitty cat,” he says. 
He strides forward and you flinch out of his way. He goes to the tub and cranks it on, water splashing out from the high faucet. He flips the silver lever to put the stopper in place and backs up. 
“Voila, all for you,” he declares, “I’ll just...” he looks around and backs up to sit on the fluffy cushioned stools near the wall, “sit and watch. If you need help getting your back, I got you.” 
He wiggles his fingers and gives a lecherous grin. You withhold a shudder and face the basin, the water battering the bottom. You step forward and peer down into the shallows. You clutch the front of the robe and peek over in his direction but not at him. 
He waits, silently. You sway, squeezing the fluffy fabric as you peer back at the water. You don’t know if you can do it. Not with him right there. 
“Whatsa matter, baby, you need help?” He shifts and you jolt.  
“N-no, I just...” you look down at yourself and frown. 
“Ah, you’re shy. I totally get it,” he coos, “you don’t gotta be though. Your beautiful, so you should be proud. Show it off, honey.” He clucks and shakes his head, “you know that’s the thing these days, all you girls, you’re so insecure, but you trust me, sweet lips, you got nothing to be insecure about.” 
Your stomach flips. You feel hazy. You try to shrug it off and drop your hands to the belt of the rob. You untie it. You’re really going to do this. Why? 
Because you’re afraid? Weak? Yep. 
You shed the rob and look around. You hang it on the hook behind the door and return to the tub. It’s getting deeper and deeper. You touch the bottom of your shirt and scrunch it up in your fists. Just do it quickly and get in. He can only see so much from over there. 
You pull your shirt off, nothing underneath. You push your pants down quickly, your underwear rolling down inside. The skin feels cooler then and tingles across your naked skin as you latch onto the tub and swing yourself over the edge. You barely get a foot under you before you submerge your body in the water. 
You sit up, legs bent, stiff on the porcelain as the water continues to rise. It’s not quite at your chest yet. If you let it fill all the way, it might touch your chin. As you watch the depth climb, you don’t notice him until he closes. You slide to the back of the tub as Lloyd cranks off the faucet. 
You notice how his eyes stray to you. Your legs stay bent in front of you, blocking most of everything. You shrink down, hunching your shoulders as he searches through the ripples. He tilts his head and cracks his neck as he exhales and backs away. 
“Take your time, baby,” he purrs as he rubs his chest. 
He sits again and you lower your head. You’ve never been this bare in front of anyone, rarely even yourself. You’re just not comfortable without some short of shield around you. Your eyes tinge with the threat of tears. You feel like you’ve been hit across the face. This is real. Really real. 
Your eyes flick up and you reach for the purple scrubby on the little black shelf. You just have to get through it. That’s what you’ve always done. 
👄
You stare into the open case. You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the concept of make-up. When you were a teen, you had a phase, and you’ve been to enough job interviews to wield a mascara wand. Still, the amount seems excess. 
There’s almost every sort of product in every shade. Some sort of tap you don’t know what to do with, highlighter, and finishing spray. It’s too much. Your look is either a bare face or nothing at all. More often the former. 
You fidget with a tube of lipstick, clicking the lid up and down. This is all so strange. What are you getting ready for? And why? This isn’t your home, this isn’t your life, and yet it’s all so perfectly planned. 
“Honey bunnnnnn,” Lloyd’s timbre has you dropping the stick. He strides in, flustered, holding up two ties. He’s half dressed. A pair of red velvet pants and amber satin button up. It’s not a look you would go for. “What do ya think? Which tie? Paisley or the stripes?” 
You shrug and shake your head. 
He clicks his tongue, “genius, baby, genius. No tie. You’re right. Just the jacket.” 
Your mouth falls open and you nod, “sure, yeah.” 
You look back at the vanity and huff. Your face is untouched. You sit in your robe in the walk-in closet, mulling over your misery. Self-pity is as inescapable as these walls. 
“What’s up, cheeks?” He asks, “you need some help? I’m thinking you could give a bit more colour to lips but keep the rest very subtle.” 
He crosses the floor and hovers behind you. You stir around in the case and take out two bottles of foundation. You’ve never really used that either but the shades are pretty close. He lays the ties down on the vanity, brushing your back as he does, and pulls back to grip your shoulders. 
“I tried to guess as best I could. Don’t know much about all that but the lady in the store was a blessing,” he massages your shoulders as he talks. You’re tense as steel. “But you know, you got perfect skin so...” 
“Mm,” you put the foundation back and peruse the little shelf alongside the mirror. You reach for the moisturizer. Your skin feels raw.  
“I like it, au natural. Touch of cream, little lash...” 
“I’ll figure it out,” you grumble. He’s kind of annoying. No, he’s really annoying. All of this is annoying. 
“Right, yep, I will get out of your way,” he bends and kisses the crown of your head, “lots of time.” 
He strolls out and you scowl at the mirror. Something about him is getting to you. You’re not an angry person. You’re a nice person. You don’t go out of your way to be around others but when you are, you strive to be pleasant. Or at least, out of the way. 
You spread the cream over your face, watching your reflection as if it’s someone else. Where did he come from? Why? This is some cruel trick because you only ever wanted to mind your business. 
You cap the bottle and put the moisturizer back. You fish out a mascara stick and brush it on your lashes then find a neutral lip colour to put on. Nothing special, just like you. Hopefully he sees that soon enough. 
You pack away the case and push it to the back of the vanity. You get up and go to the velvet bench where the dress lays. He’s plucked out a few things to go with it. A gold necklace with small diamonds speckled along it and a pair of beige heels.  
You peek at the door before you untie the robe. You shiver as your fingers brush your stomach. You close your eyes as you recall how he wrapped you up in a towel after your bath. His touches were more than deliberate but his intrusive gaze made you squirm more. 
You pull on the lingerie tucked under the dress. A thong. You’ve never worn one of those, and a satin and lace bra with no padding. Even as you pull the dress up your figure, you feel like you’re on display. You reach back, bending your arm until your elbow throbs as you push the zipper up. 
“Need some help?” Lloyd’s voice makes you wince. 
You sniff, “sure.” 
You hold up the bodice as he approaches. You refuse to look back at him as he nears. He tickles along your spine with a single finger before he tugs on the zipper. He pulls it up little by little, until the fabric is snug around you. His fingertips drift down your back and he spreads his hands across your ass. You gasp. 
Before you can step away, his hands glide around and he grabs you by the hips. He pulls you against him and rocks with you. He inhales your scent from above and sighs. 
“Jellybean...” he almost sings, “are you...untouched?” 
You lock up and grab at his hands, trying to free yourself. 
“Is that why you’re so shy?” He snickers and spins you around, hands going to your waits, “I’m honoured to be your first.” 
You gape at him, horrified. His intent hasn’t been hard to guess but said aloud, it is all too imminent. 
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