#crack pairing blurb

[lay-z]

sleepy omega!reader x poly 141 just constantly wanting cuddles or just sliding into their beds in the middle of the night because the massive stuffed teddy in their nest isnt doing it for them-

Gosh dang it, I've become such a sucker for anything Omegaverse 🥹 Thank you for your request! I hope you'll like this blurb 🩷 And I'm so sorry this took so long, omg!

Pairing: alpha!TF-141 x omega!gn!Reader

Warnings/Info: military!Reader; packmates; alpha/omega dynamics; domesticity; hurt/comfort; fluff; teammates/friends to lovers

No matter how much you're tossing and turning while clinging to your favourite ginormous bear plushie (a gift from Price himself), your nest feels... off. It's not nearly as warm and cosy enough as you need it, and you don't understand why.

You haven't made any big changes, have you? You'd simply fluffed up all the blankets and pillows and plushies you own; the usual routine. Your nose wrinkles as you sit up inside your nest to sniff around in the dark. Okay, perhaps the scent of your pack mates isn’t quite there anymore—only barely lingering on your nesting materials, but that shouldn’t bother you as much as it does right now.

They’re right here, just across the hallway in their respective rooms or perhaps still lounging in the living room, quietly suffering with their episodic insomnia. So, knowing that they’re under the same roof with you should be enough, but it simply isn’t.

As you dig yourself out from under your pillow fortress, you immediately shiver as soon as the chilly winter breeze currently sweeping in through the cracked window hits your flushed body, because even in the deepest winter season, you cannot sleep with the window closed. And now clad, or rather drowning, in one of Simon’s hoodies and a pair of warm sweatpants, you’re still cold.

No, something isn’t quite right.

You feel too restless, uncomfortable, and lonely.

Crawling out of your nest, you scramble to your feet and make your way out of your bedroom and into the living room down the hall—where you can already see the flickering light of the flat TV around the corner, though the volume is low and heavily drowned out by your pack leader’s hackle-raising snores. 

Peeking around the corner, not wanting to disturb him, you find John sprawled out on the large armchair, clutching the remote in one hand, his head tipped back and mouth wide open while he continues to sound like a berserker with sinusitis. It’s an endearing sight, seeing him this openly vulnerable and relaxed, and you can't stop yourself from getting a whiff of his sleepy, musky scent as you sniff the air greedily.

It makes your heart flutter and a pleasant shiver run down your spine.

Oh, how tempted you are to simply walk up and crawl into his lap, bury your face into his chest and sleep with him like this, but you don’t want to risk waking him up, so you let out the softest sigh and slowly turn to sneak off into the other direction, back towards your own cold, empty bedroom—

Just to bump into a tall, solid mountain of lean muscle.

“Havin�� fun stalking the Cap while he’s knocked out cold?”

You swallow a surprised squeak and stare up at Kyle with wide doe-eyes as he swiftly reaches out to grasp your forearms to keep you steady and in place. His voice is soft, full of amusement, his warm brown eyes nearly twinkling in the flickering lights of the TV as he looks down at you. “Aw, did I scare ya, little mouse?”

You shake your head adamantly. “No, I was just getting a glass of water.” It’s a white lie, but you don’t want to start explaining something you have no explanation for yet.

Kyle lifts an eyebrow and releases you to cross his arms as he scrutinizes you while you can clearly see his nostrils twitch as he scents you discreetly.

“I see,” he replies eventually, though, knowing Kyle, you can tell that he’s not buying your lie one bit. “So, you’re good, yeah? Headin’ back to your den then?”

The question lingers in the air and as you open your mouth to answer, he beats you to it.

“Or perhaps another room tonight?” Kyle watches your lashes flutter as you blink dumbly, and he ignores the sudden urge to squish your cheeks with his hands and pull your face against his neck to scent-mark you thoroughly. “I’m just saying,” he shrugs, “ya haven’t been seekin’ out any one of us lately, ‘s all.” He’s not accusing you, just stating an observation he’s made.

And it’s true. You haven’t been seeking out the alphas of your pack; too afraid to be viewed as annoying or too clingy. It’s been hard enough to be the only omega in TF-141, after all. You don’t want to be their burden but an asset instead. 

Swallowing thickly, you really wish you had a cold glass of water right about now. “Uhm, well–” You press your lips into a tight line before you shrug, feeling like a complete idiot. At this point, you might be worse than Simon when it comes to articulating your feelings—not that you’d ever willingly admit that out loud.

“I just... don’t wanna bother anyone. You’re all stressed and busy and uh... yeah, I’ll just go back to my room, I guess,” you grumble, hoping that neither sadness nor disappointment spike your scent to tell on you.

Kyle lets out a small huff through his nose and rolls his shoulders as he listens to you. There’s a slight twitch between his brows as you mention being a bother to them, but then he fixes his face into a more neutral expression before he steps aside.

“Alright. Have a good night, sweetheart.”

You give a small nod, wishing deep down that he’d simply tug you along and make you sleep in his bedroom tonight, but Kyle stands stock still, and you walk past him back down the hall and into your empty, chilly omega den—somehow feeling worse than before.

Your gloomy bedroom feels even colder while you rearrange your nest for the third time, but never feeling satisfied with it. You keep swallowing down the little, high-pitched chuffs and whines of distress bubbling up in your throat; afraid someone might hear or smell the underlying bitterness now lacing your usually bloomy, comforting scent.

When the door suddenly creaks open, you freeze and hold your breath, spine straightening as you kneel in the middle of your nest, clutching your plushie to your chest.

“Relax,” Johnny chuckles quietly, his voice hoarse and gravelly with sleep, “…s’ jus’ me, hen.”

He slips through the crack and leaves the door ajar before he casually walks towards your nest, stretching languidly with a yawn before slipping inside with you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble reflexively, nearly whining, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

But Johnny only clucks his tongue, eyes already fluttering shut in bliss as he pulls you into his arms. “None ‘o tha’, hen,” he grumbles, letting out a contented chuff as soon as he buries his nose into your hair. “Ah missed ye.”

The vibration of his low rumble makes you shiver, it breaks you out of your momentary stupor, and you swiftly reciprocate his embrace, burying your nose into his neck and huffing his lightly smoky scent eagerly with a happy purr.

And while you and Johnny cuddle, bringing balance back to your room, your bedroom door is pushed open once more and a warm, musky scent is added to the atmosphere—like suede and cask aged bourbon.

Simon slips into your nest and curls his massive body around you from behind with nothing more than a deep, sleepy grumble as his heavy arm snakes around your torso, pulling you closer until the tip of his nose is pressed against the nape of your neck.

Feeling like you’re finally on omega cloud nine at this point, surrounded by two of your precious alphas in your own nest, you can barely hear the other two males stumbling into your room above the beginning snores coming from both Johnny and Simon.

“C’mon, Cap, this way.” Lifting your head up, you can hear Kyle mutter quietly as he guides a sleep-drunk Captain Price towards your nest.

“Stay.” Johnny mumbles in his sleep, curling his arm tighter around your waist below Simon’s arm as you shift in their snug embraces, but before you can reply, Price lets out a soft growl—not a warning but a non-verbal order—and suddenly, all four men arrange themselves in your nest, dragging their bulky bodies around sluggishly until they’ve build a proper cuddle pile around you.

They end up snuggling and hugging you one way or another, their noses pressed into your skin while you’re practically buzzing as you purr for them.

“T’was a proper pain in the arse to wake ‘em up, sweet’eart,” Kyle mutters with a soft sigh, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “Next time you feel like this, you let us know. We’re here to take care of our ‘mega… and don’t lie to me again,” he grumbles, interlacing his fingers with yours tenderly while your heart thuds steadily against your chest.

“You’re a shit liar.”

[maybanksprincess]

no nut november ❀

warnings: sort of smut, jj cumming with minimal touch, sexy lingerie, cursing, mature themes, pet names, cliffhanger (again) 🤗, sub jj.

summary: it had just turned november, and jj was trying to get through the whole month without cumming.

pairings: boyfriend!jj x girlfriend!reader

requested by this ask, sorry this is kinda shit. thank you for the request babydoll ᥫ᭡

when jj told you he was gonna get through the whole november without cumming or jerking off once, you almost laughed out loud at him.

"baby, what do you mean the whole month? you can't even last a week." you state bluntly, raising an eyebrow at him.

he crosses his arms and stares at you in disbelief, "what do you mean I can't last a week? I totally can." he huffs exaggeratedly

you roll your eyes, and then suddenly an idea popped into your head. you turn to your boyfriend and grin "okay, let's make a deal. If you can last a week in November without cumming, I'll let you do whatever you want to me for the whole month of December."

"pshh- deal." he says immediately, not even giving himself time to think about what you said.

-

not even a week into November, jj found himself starting to struggle. he finally realized just how much he jerked off a month. and it didn't help that you would walk around in the house with just underwear and a t-shirt on.

he would often come so close to cumming just based off the thought of you. its like he didnt even have to touch himself anymore.

you knew what you were doing, you were trying to make him crack. you purposely walked around in lacy underwear, and lingerie sets that you know would send jj into a frenzy.

november 3rd, 11:37 pm.

"mmph..baby please." jj whimpers out, as he's on the verge of tears. he was so painfully hard that his boner was starting to physically hurt.

"baby please touch me..." he moans, his cock standing almost on its own, begging for some sort of release as sticky precum leaks from his tip.

you hold back a fit of giggles from escaping, as your fingers graze his inner thighs, teasing him. "should i touch you baby? didn't you say you were gonna last all November?" you tease

he whines loudly at you denying his pleas, "sweetheart, please—i promise ill be good for you, jus' touch me."

you look down at him with lustful eyes, moving your face down to level with his girthy cock, licking a slow stripe up his vein on the side, eliciting a loud whimper, that is disguised as a groan from him.

you bring your head up, swirling your tongue around his pink tip a few times, feeling the soft texture on your tongue.

before you can pull away, you feel the sensation of thick white ropes of his sticky essence coat your tongue, "m-mama...feels s' good." he moans loudly

you greedily swallow the remaints of his cum, the warm sensation causing a pooling between your legs. "guess you have to tell john b you already lost, huh?" you add with a laugh

he chuckles weakly from his position on the bed, "they know how horny i am all the time, they wont be surprised."

you giggle and climb up onto his lap, straddling him, and dipping your head down to his neck, leaving butterfly kisses in their wake "wanna return the favor?"

a/n: im sorry babes, my work has been so shitty and short recently, i promise its gonna be better soon :) but enjoy this blurb!!

[bueckers]

𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐄 ━━━ 𝐏𝐁

a/n | heavily inspired by that clip of caitlin & gabbie LOL. kind of a blurb

summary: paige gets caught looking at you a certain way on camera while you’re practically fuming during a game.

warning(s): just sexual tension & out of pocket comments, suggestive

pairing: paige bueckers x teammate!reader

The game against NC State was remarkably close, an unexpected challenge for only the second game of the season. As the third quarter dwindled to its final minutes, a sense of frustration began to set in. You found yourself doing everything in your power to gain composure.

The same girl had been targeting you all night, her aggressive play becoming increasingly blatant as the game progressed. Your patience was wearing thin, and when she charged at you once again, a surge of anger propelled you forward, ready to confront her. However, before you could react, Paige, Aubrey, and Ines intervened, stepping in to hold you back before you did something you’d regret.

Geno had benched you, which only added more fuel to the fire. When the other team called a timeout, the rest of the team was sent to the benches, but Paige was quick to run over to you. As soon as the whistle blew, you got out of my seat and jogged over to the referee, determined to explain that he had made the wrong call. He had been the entire game. Your frustration, however, got the better of you, and your words came out heated. The referee was clearly unimpressed with your complaints and wasn’t budging.

Paige stepped in front of you, concluding your one-sided heated conversation with the referee. She grabbed your arm with one hand and placed the other on your lower back to guide you away. “C’mere,” she mumbled, steering you back to the bench. You sat down, a little calmer than before but still huffing and puffing that you hadn’t gotten to say everything you wanted to.

Paige sat next to you, her entire body turned in your direction as she nearly fell off the seat. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, and she knew exactly what to do to get you to calm down. “Talk to me,” she threw out huskily, knowing you had to actually get what you had to say out before resting. You were already on it.

“That girl has been all over me all night,” you began, words tumbling out in a rush. “Do you know how many fouls I’ve been cheated out of? It’s like she’s got it out for me. And the refs are fucking blind to it—this is bullshit..”

As you rambled on, Paige couldn’t tear her eyes away from you. She was perplexed at how you could look so good even while angry. Her eyes darted between yours and your lips the entire time, her lips slightly parted. Though you were loud, she barely heard a word, her ears blocking out all of the trash talk you let flow. Paige was captivated, caught between her desire to comfort you with reassuring words and letting you take her in the locker room after the game, which seemed to intensify with every fiery word you spoke.

Her head rested in one of her hands, and just as you finished speaking you turned to her, catching her lingering gaze on your lips. This out of all things made you crack a smile. “Paige,” you snapped her out of her short daze, her eyes averting back to yours.

“Yeah?” she mumbled, sitting up straighter now as she reached her hands behind her head to adjust her ponytail.

Your eyes followed her without your head moving for a moment, your smile only growing bigger as you realized why she was staring at you that way. “What?” she questioned, her smile being heard through it, faking her oblivion as she looked at you.

“You’re so fucking horny, bro.” you shook your head, smiling bright at her as she threw her head back, laughing, but she didn’t disagree. What you didn’t know, was that your interaction was caught on camera being televised—and of course screen recorded.

user1. lip readers get on this 😭

user2. Paige is down bad CONFIRMED

user3. The way she’s looking at her omg I physically can’t

user4. PAIGE MADISON BUECKERS!?!?

user5. are they dating?

user6. No

user7. I hope so

user8. nooo way this is real LMFAOOO

user9. her eyes shifting between her lips and eyes ohhh she’s so down bad

user10. FRIENDS DON’T LOOK AT FRIENDS THAT WAY!?!?

user11. wouldn’t be surprised if they’re fucking

user12. these comments are crazy as hell 😭

[hotgirlbedtimescenarios]

Daddy

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Blurb: Joel comes over for dinner but disaster strikes when secrets are discovered.

Warnings: 18+, sexually explicit, use of Daddy and other pet names, age gap, and slight violence.

Authors note: It’s been a while since I’ve written anything but inspiration struck and I wrote this silly little blurb to ease back in to things. Enjoy :)

Main Masterlist

- - -

Tonight marks two months of sneaking around with your dads best friend.

Two months of lying about plans, sneaking out of Joel’s house at the ass crack of dawn, and crawling back through your bedroom window before your parents wake up.

So far, your web of lies hasn’t been tangled and no one suspects a thing. Both of you have been diligent about covering your tracks and avoiding slip ups.

Tonight you set the dinner table with your mom, nonchalant, though listening around the corner as your dad greets his buddy Joel Miller at the door and welcomes him in for dinner.

“The hell happened to you man” your dad asks Joel as he ushers him inside, questioning him about something you can’t see.

Joel answers with a nervous cough but recovers quickly. “Rough day at work, some idiot wasn’t paying attention.”

You play it cool when Joel rounds the corner, joining the cozy dining room behind your father.

Your eyes immediately note the faint purple bruise on the side of his neck, just below where his dark stubble ends.

Shit.

Joel’s eyes find you immediately, an “I told you so” simmering in their depths.

Your face heats and your eyes dart to the floor, nervously tucking a stray stand of hair behind your ear.

You wear your hair up tonight, tendrils framing your face but swept back back into a a ponytail that exposes the length of your neck.

A ponytail like the one Joel had wrapped around his fist and yanked back on less than 24hours ago while he was fucking you deep into the mattress, sweaty and hard.

Growling filthy, toe curling, atrocities in your ear the entire time.

“Come on angel, ” he rasped between labored breaths as he thrusted into you, “tell daddy how good it feels.”

“Fucky, daddy,” you whined into the pillow, voice punctuated by each snap of his hips into you, “so fucking good. I’m so wet, give me more, more, more,” you pleaded until he unloaded into you before collapsing into the sheets together, legs tangled, bodies sweaty and heart rate thundering.

You snap out of your flashback.

Currently, the four of you gather around the table, plates stacked high with a lovely dinner, potatoes, veggies, and a steaming hot roast.

Dutifully, you bow your head and close your eyes as your dad says the prayer, thanking his God for the meal and welfare of his family.

“Amen” you say, like the good girl you are, in unison with everyone else as the prayer comes to an end.

“Daddy, can you pass me the salt?” You say, nodding toward the shakers out your reach.

Your dad reaches for the salt.

So does Joel.

Their fingers brush, coming into contact as they each try to grab the small salt shaker.

Your stomach drops.

Joel stops breathing, freezing in place as he realizes his mistake.

Your dad blinks and you watch as the realization strikes. First, confusion pulls between his brows. Then his eyes dart from Joel’s big brown eyes to yours. Then finally he looks back at the suspiciously small bruise on the side of Joel’s neck. That’s when your father’s face reddens and eyes go wide.

Your mothers fork clatters loudly as it drops onto her plate, the sound piercing the now silent room.

Oh, shit.

Joel’s hand go up, palms facing you father across the table from him, as he attempts to keep the peace. Before he can come up with an explanation your father interjects.

“What the fuck is that on your neck Joel” your father asks, pointing at the now obvious hickey on his neck as he stands up from the table.

Joel rises from his own seat to meet him in stature.

“I told you it happened at work”

“Don’t give me that bullshit Joel” your dad says louder now, hands clenching.

You and your mother watch in silent, awkward horror.

Then your dad’s stare pins you next.

“Didn’t we raise you better than this,” he spits, voice booming. “Running around behind our backs like a tramp. Whoring yourself off to someone old enough to be your fucking father!”

The raised voice and vile language raise Joel’s hackles. He steps ever so slightly infront of you, his body a ready barrier between you and your father.

“Baby” Joel says to you calmly, eyes trained on your father, “why don’t you take your momma into the other room. We’ve got some things to settle.”

You and your mother barely make it out of your seats before your father flies across the table, that pet name his final straw.

Plates clatter, drinks spill, and vegetables go flying across the table and floors of the dining room as the two men collide.

Joel takes a surprise first to the jaw but his sturdy build and sheer mass eat the punch before he throws himself at your father.

As the two of them begin to brawl, your mother wails in shock at the disaster unfolding.

And despite the poor timing, your stomach growls and you can’t help but mourn the fact that you didn’t even get to taste the mashed potato’s tonight.

Damn, you fucking love mashed potatoes.

[jamminvroomvroom]

hi babe i’m here from the dms but. speaking of brain rot, thinking abt fwb lando again where u stay the night after and wake up in the morning expecting him to be gone already for smth work related or what not but he’s still in bed absolutely clinging to u. and then more soft sleepy morning sex 🫠🫠

play pretend.

ln x fem!reader

in which it’s time to stop pretending…

just a little blurb to say…. HAPPY BIRTHDAY @lavenderlando !! sorry i made you wait like 6 months for this lmfao i love u girl, u mean the world to me and i hope this hits the spot 💖💖 lemme know what y’all think, more 4k requests will be worked on asap (it’s exam szn ew)

songs to set the mood: denial by james marriott, real love baby by father john misty, can i call you rose? by thee sacred souls

warnings: 18+!! minors go away! smut, morning sex, friends to lovers, best friend!reader, friends with benefits type relationship, fluff, unprotected sex (don’t be silly…)

1k words

cool air casts goosebumps over your bare skin, the open window letting in the morning breeze. you tug at the grey bedsheets, dragging them higher over your frame where you lay. you eyes are cracked open, hazily taking in the sight before you.

he’s still here.

you often expect lando to be gone when you wake up. sometimes it’s because of work, sometimes it’s because you’d promised not to do this again but alcohol had then rendered the both of you irresistible to the other, and it was too awkward to have yet another jarring conversation about how you’re such good friends.

but he’s there. and he’s looking at you.

“hi.” he croaks, soft and low. you revel in his morning voice on the rare occasions you get to hear it.

“hey.” you mumble, leaning in closer to him.

he pushes the duvet up and away, inviting you into his arms, and you wriggle towards him. he’s a human heater, and you’re cold, that’s the only reason you snuggle up, tucked between his arms.

“you’re still here.” you whisper into his chest, purposefully quiet, almost as if you don’t actually want him to hear you.

“couldn’t leave you.” he mutters quietly.

you crane your head to look up at him, eyes blown wide at the admission.

“why?”

“i hate leaving after.”

the ‘after’ hangs heavy in the air between you for a second. he’s eyeing up your lips and you’re returning the gesture, sleepy eyes flitting between his and his plush lips.

this never happens. usually, the night starts with too many drinks too quickly, progresses to his hands dropping dangerously low on your waist, leads to the pair of you mentally scarring an innocent taxi driver, and ends with you underneath him. or, on top of him. and then, he’s gone.

“for the record, i hate it when you go.” you reply, and the space between you dissipates. there are so many unsaid words being traded between you, an intense charge of energy. you’re anxiously sliding your hands up his sides, itching to feel impossibly closer.

“maybe i should stop going then, hm?” two of lando’s fingers grasp your chin, tilting it up to bump his.

“yeah.” you breathe.

it’s like he’s tugged an invisible string, and you’re melting into him, his lips slotting immaculately over yours, as if they were sculpted by god to rest against yours. he tastes familiar, it’s rare you get to kiss him sober and in the light of day. you bask in it, finding the messy, loose curls tickling the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the thick, brown strands. he groans, parting his mouth just enough for you to slide your tongue over his.

“want you. now.” you gasp urgently into the space where your lips part, your body rolling hungrily against his.

“i always want you, drives me crazy.” lando grunts, grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you even closer.

lando slots his thigh between your legs, and you search for friction, rutting against him. you’re both naked from the blurry night before so you can feel everything, each part of him so ready for you. you’re slick for him already, can feel the way it’s painting your inner thighs. you hate how easy it is to lose yourself in him.

“take me then.” you whine, your forehead collapsing against his shoulder.

lando smirks, flipping you over so that your back is to his chest, like you’re nothing. he hooks your top leg over his, sliding himself closer to where you’re aching for him.

“can’t keep pretending.” lando whispers against the shell of your ear.

he slides deep, then, filling you to the hilt. it knocks the air out of you, your back arching at the sensation of him hitting every single spot that mattered.

“then let’s not pretend anymore.” you choke out, your head rolling back against his shoulder.

“yeah, baby? wanna be all mine?” he teases, thrusting deep and slow, the slide of him shooting pleasure over your body like the slow, satisfying drip of warm honey.

“already am, all yours.” you sigh, totally and utterly content as your nerve endings pulsed with pleasure.

“good girl.” lando praises, his voice fucked out and lovestruck.

as if he’s rewarding you for your admission, the pad of his finger slips down your navel, finding your clit. you’re soaked for him, wet and warm, and he traces circles into the bundle of nerves, each touch sending you keening back into him.

“so close.” you sound like you’re begging, pleading for him to let you finish all over him.

“gotta say please.” he nips the skin of your shoulder and you squirm, toes curling.

“please, lando.” you writhe, canting your hips back against him.

“sound so pretty for me.” he coos, peppering kisses down your neck.

his fingers speed up against your folds, working you perfectly to a sweet release. everything is still blurred by sleep, your body overly sensitive from the cool air pouring in through the window and the slumber still lodged in your bones.

“cum with me.” you slur, your eyes squeezing shut. you almost turn into him, convulsing in his arms to the point where you’d be staring into his stormy eyes if you could manage to pry yours open.

“let me see those eyes.” he commands, your entire body shuddering. you blink, staring up at him, and you both fold, meeting your ends. he looks fierce, starved, completely enamoured with every single way your face moves.

your jaw hangs agape, a choked cry stifled in the back of your throat. it’s all too much, and just about enough, huge, calloused hands roaming your body as your shake, spilling all over him.

“god.” you breathe, flopping limply against him. he stays buried inside of you, his face lost to the damp skin of the crook of your neck.

“i never would of left all those mornings if i knew this is the good morning i’d get.” lando laughs, the sound deep and wholesome. you cosy yourself up even closer to him.

“not letting you leave from now on.” you murmur, smiling to yourself when you feel his lips press against the back of your head.

“you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

-

sorry this is soooo bad lmao i felt the urge to write something short n sweet xoxo

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @formulaal

[ironwinters]

"Oops?"

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

tags: smutty blurb, no plot, bucky spooking himself, comfort, fluff and giggles

inspired by that scene in breaking dawn where edward breaks the bed when they fuck. strength kink go brrrrr.

Moonlight and a soft summer breeze makes its way through the open bedroom window, illuminating the room and the skin of your intertwined bodies tangled in the bedsheets.

All that could be heard is the sound of soft moans and skin slapping together. Your back arches to press yourself impossibly closer to the man on top of you, a breathless moan escaping your lips as his thrusts become deeper and more powerful with each thrust, his hand moving from its place on your hip to brace himself with the headboard.

"please," you plead, not even sure of what you're begging him for. you're so close to the edge, and you know you just need one little nudge to get you there.

"god, doll, so good for me," he mutters out, lips brushing against your throat with each word he speaks, warm breath fanning over you.

at the praise, a soft whine escapes your throat, legs tightening around his hips as the knot in your stomach uncoils. the feeling of you releasing around him is Bucky's undoing as well, his hips stuttering to a stop against yours as close as he can be. A deep groan leaves his lips, the grip of his flesh hand tightening slightly on your hip and his other hand grips the headboard.

Crack.

The loud noise of wood snapping quickly pulls you out of your post orgasm haze, eyes trailing up to Bucky's hold on your now broken headboard. You blink owlishly, feeling like your brain is about to short circuit. You knew, of course Bucky was incredibly strong, he's a super soldier. But it was easy to forget, because of how in control of himself he always was around you.

You made him lose that control a little bit. And damn if it wasn't more attractive than it should've been.

Bucky looks bashful, blush rising to his cheeks and ears as he slowly releases the crumbling headboard from his hold.

"Oops?" he mutters.

You grab his face, pulling him into a searing kiss in hopes for a second round.

Bless super soldier stamina.

[lucidfairies]

disgusting [e.w]

pairing: preacher's daughter!ellie x old friend!reader

synopsis: when darkness overtakes the righteous, light will come bursting in (Psalm 112:4)

maybe, just maybe, she could get in and break you down. make you reconsider all of the things you swear you love. things that protect you.

they couldn't protect you from her.

warnings: not proof read!, reader is a minor in the beginning (flashback), reader is femme but nothing else is really disclosed, probably short, plot is weak but there, corruption, angst, religion mentioned several times, smoking, stalking, perverted behavior, mass shooting mentioned, sarah is back then dies again, underage drinking, recording without consent (not sex), unrealistic virgin experience, top Ellie, cunniligus, fingering, ass play, double penetration, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, humiliation, pillow humping, crying, smut based on this

wc: 7.8k

a/n: wow this was absolutely insane to write. this was mostly based off of this blurb, I wrote to the author for permission to base this fic off of it but I never heard back so I figured I would leave them credit here :) joel is a bit of a dick in the beginning and tess effing sucks!

the sun poured into your windows as you awoke to the loud sounds of trucks outside your window. it was the first Saturday in September, and the air was beginning to chill. you had no interest in being awoken this early on the weekend, deciding that pulling your second pillow across your face to drown out the noise was the best course of action.

unfortunately for you, the noises didn't halt, in fact, they got louder, as the backs of the trucks slid up and men began transporting boxes into the house next door. you knew people were moving in, but you didn't know it would be today of all days.

stubbornly, you sat up, pushing your hair away from your face and stretching, before standing and peaking out of your window. there were four men coming in and out of the house, as well as three women. on the second floor, you were too far to make much of their faces, but one of them was older, presumably the mother of the other two.

reluctantly, you decided to bake them a pie as a welcoming. your mother loved meeting new people and being as peppy as possible so that they would like her. she was desperate for people to like her - sometimes you were too. and right now, you wanted this family to like you, even if they woke you up at the crack of dawn.

the pie took all day, in and out of the kitchen. by 3pm, the trucks had all dispersed, and the family had moved in. if your mother wasn't away, she would be knocking at their door already. but you knew what it was like to move houses, and you knew that nobody would want anyone at their doorstep during their first day in the home. you decided to go tomorrow.

when the next day arrived, chilly and cloudy, you were ready. you were wearing a pink sweater dress, it dusted the tops of your thighs that were covered by tights. you had white, knee high socks gracing your legs under knee high boots, and they pulled the outfit together. with your pie and sweet smile, you ventured down the sidewalk to the house next door.

the woman who opened the door was the same woman you had noticed yesterday. she was tall, long brown hair that flowed over her shoulders in a gorgeous manner, and she wasn't as old as you had thought upon looking at her yesterday. frankly, she was gorgeous. you wondered if her daughters looked like her, if so, they're lucky.

“hi, can I help you?” she asked. she was breathing harshly, you wondered if it was from moving boxes or something other.

you introduced yourself, offering up your pie. she invited you in, and you noticed that the majority of the first floor was already set up, minus a few boxes here and there. you wondered if it took them all night. she called in the rest of the family to their living room, and you sat the pie on the table in the middle.

as the rest of the family filed in, your eyes locked on the girl in the middle. she was significantly shorter than the first woman you met, tess, and she looked nothing like her - neither of the girls did. she was pale and freckled, and her hair was short. she had it pulled back in a small bun on the back of her head, and she was in a white wifepleaser and jeans.

“it's nice to meet you guys,” you smiled, reaching out your hand and shaking all of theirs. in order, it was joel, ellie, and sarah. ellie. what a pretty name, you thought. her eyes practically burned your skin as she looked you over, taking in every inch of your person.

you quickly found out that ellie was merely one year your senior, and you couldn't get the fact out of your head. she wasn't too old, you told yourself. sarah, her sister, was a year younger than you. but ellie. beautiful, eighteen year old ellie, was looking at you like you were everything, and you were looking back.

an hour later, you were saying your goodbyes and traveling back down the street to your house. you almost spun; the introduction went stunningly. there was no way that the williams didn't like you, which meant that they would inevitably like your family as well. your mother would be elated.

you learned late the week day that ellie loved to smoke. every time you glanced out of your window, she was there, tapping her cig out the window. you couldn't comprehend how someone could spend so much time staring out the window with nothing but a cigarette - or a joint, whichever it actually was. you weren't close enough to see.

you said a prayer for her that night.

it stormed that next saturday, one week after the williams had moved in. it reminded you of ellie. as you walked in to your room, ready to go to bed, you were stuck in your spot as you glanced out the window to ellie's room. the scene was nothing you had seen before. there was ellie, standing in the middle of her room, yelling at joel. she looked angry, and equally sad. they both looked sad.

you couldn't hear what they were saying, but you knew it was bad. ellie grabbed a backpack and began stuffing clothes from her messy floor into it, still yelling at joel. her cheeks were red from frustration and stained from tears. joel was crying. something bad had happened, you could feel it.

ellie said something small before throwing the backpack over her back and storming out of the house. moments later, she was storming out of the front door, into the storm. and she stopped. she glanced up, met your eyes, and stopped. you looked at her as she looked at you; longing. longing something far from reach.

and then she turned, got in her car, and drove away.

you, now two years older and attending university, didn't often think of that day. ellie though - she never stopped thinking about it. she had returned home a handful of times since that rainy night, and by some miracle, you were there every time she was.

nothing about you had changed since that night. you still had your big doe eyes and you were still just as curious as you were that night. every time ellie came home (frequently for the first year, but she hadn't been back), you would peer out of your bedroom window and watch her gather things from her room.

ellie knew that you had asked about her. several times, for the first year, actually. she knew that you wanted to see her. meet her again. maybe even smoke with her. ellie had conjured many an idea as to what would happen if she was there.

so, knowing this, you simply couldn't blame ellie for her aggressive means of knowing your whereabouts. you couldn't blame her for following you home or watching you from below your bedroom window as you changed. you're the one who wanted to see her, even if it was a long time ago.

ellie swore that one day she would approach you. she was desperate to. she thought about you no matter what she did. when she was in the shower, when she was working, when she was getting off. the last one embarrassed her. she hardly knew you, while also knowing everything about you.

she knew your favorite color and your favorite skirt. she knew what kind of books you liked and that you loved to bake. she also knew that on most of your underwear, there were flowers and bows. she knew what you slept in most often. and most of all, most disturbingly, most disgusting, she knew every way to make you cum.

she watched you frantically rubbing your nipples as your hips ground down against your pillow, and she watched as your face contorted in anger every time you didn't finish. and she watched you get on your knees and pray for forgiveness from a god who wasn't listening - because the next night, you did it all again.

ellie dreamt about every way she could make you cum. if she could get her hands on you for one night, she could have you coming over and over. you just needed her, she was sure of it. she had never seen your pussy, not from the ground with you all the way up on the second floor, but she dreamt about what it would look like to watch her strap bottom out inside you.

she craved it.

she knew your schedule so well that she could tattoo it. you left early in the morning for class, came back, did homework, slept, and then went out again. she knew what days you did your laundry and what days you went grocery shopping, she even knew what you got every week, but she was too scared to ever attempt to cross paths with you –

until now, when you decided to change your schedule.

there was ellie, looming in the dairy aisle, gazing at the milk options. she had a favorite brand, but it appeared to be all out, so she was considering her choices. as she opened the door, she heard her name and came to a screeching stop. nobody says her name like that. not since the last time she talked to you two years ago.

she turned towards you, face as pale as a ghost. her ears were ringing, her blood was rushing, and she was sure she was going to faint.

“ellie, is that you?” you grinned. you knew all too well that it was her, but you figured you would ask anyway. she looked like she was going to be sick. maybe she was trying to avoid seeing anyone from the neighborhood; word had spread that she was kicked out. “oh ellie, it's been so long! I've been worried about you.”

she couldn't stop staring, not even when you pulled her it on your embrace. “hey,” she said slowly, “it's been a while.” she smiled awkwardly, attempting to mask all of the feelings that just welled inside her. “how've you been?”

“I've been good, getting by. I'm in school now. you haven't been by for a while. how's it been?” your eyes were genuine, and she immediately felt all of the blood rush back to her face as she blushed hard.

“it's been alright,” there was a pause and you pursed your lips, unsure what to say. “if you want you could come over and I could explain everything that happened. I know you saw it all that night.” you smiled widely.

“it was probably a bad night for you. but if you're up for it, it would quiet my curious mind.” you giggled. ellie must have blacked out. this couldn't be real. “here, give me your number.” and like that, your phone was in her hands. she typed in her number and quickly handed it back to you. “I have to head out, but I'll text you.”

“great.” ellie left the store without her milk that day. she had to go back, but wound up not buying it again when she replayed what had happened the previous day in her head.

you were coming to her apartment. soon. tomorrow. you had texted her about it, several times. you didn't stop texting her. she was so, totally, fucked.

when you woke up the next morning, you were excited. you had craved answers to what happened that night since it happened, and here you were, about to get them. ellie's apartment was in an area that your parents would've called rough. as you walked up to the entrance, the gate creaked and the bell had to be pressed harshly to get it to actually ring up to her apartment. she buzzed you in, and you began up the stairs to the third floor.

ellie was staring far too hard. she could see your legs. it was killing her. she wasn't ready for this, she wasn't ready to sit next to you and have a conversation with you and have you talk back to her. she simply could not.

how was she supposed to look you in the eyes and be honest with you after using your phone number to find all of your social media? how was she supposed to pretend like she didn't get off to the pretty pictures of you on your Instagram at the beach? how was she supposed to pretend like she wasn't attracted to the religion that you had plastered all over your page? maybe, just maybe, she could get in and break you down. make you reconsider all of the things you swear you love. things that protect you.

they couldn't protect you from her.

“well, I brought you some cookies,” you opened your purse and pulled out a small, round tray of chocolate chip cookies. ellie was practically foaming at the mouth already. she reached for the tray and sat it down in the kitchen, and as she walked towards it you noticed the subtle changes in her since the last time you two had shared space.

she was paler now, if that was possible, and boney. she hadn’t been eating much (spending money on weed was a lot more fun than groceries), and it made her cheekbones stick out. her hipbones, which peaked out in an undeniably slutty way from her low waisted pants and cropped shirt was more evidence towards her lack of food consumption, and you worried for her. maybe she would let you come around more, cook her some meals, maybe help her heal. maybe fix her.

that was a nagging thought in the back of your head, and it persisted, loudly, as soon as you met her again. maybe you could fix her. it’s what god called you to do, anyway. fix the broken. fix ellie.

her hand wrapped around the thin wall as she poked her head out. “want a beer? I have corona, coors, heineken-” you cut her off, or assumed you did, because she appeared as if she would continue listing brands.

“I’m good, thanks. I don’t drink.” instinctively, your hand flew to the cross around your neck, and her eyes followed it. she breathed out a small “ah”, before grabbing herself a beer and closing the fridge.

from what you could see from your statue-like spot in her living room that barely had any view into the kitchen, she had tattoos. one tattoo, specifically. it wrapped itself down and around her forearm with different types of leaves, beginning with a large, detailed moth. however, from the cleanliness of the root of it, it appeared that she just got work done. an addition had been added, coming down the top of her hand and stopping just below her fingernails on her middle and ring fingers.

it was a lovely tattoo. and it drew your attention more than it should’ve. you berated yourself; no sane person spent this long staring at and thinking about a woman’s fingers. well, maybe gay women, but you weren’t gay. you simply enjoyed the way it curved around her arm and fingers. “it just finished healing,” your head snapped up and she appeared in front of you, leaning against the table. “I got it done a couple months ago, the bottom part. I got the other part done a couple years back, high, in my friend’s basement.”

you were eternally embarrassed. god knows how long she had been standing there, watching you watch her. “that’s really… cool,” you said awkwardly. “I could never get a tattoo high. or do anything high, for that matter.” ellie hummed, cracking open the beer and flopping down on the couch. with a gesture, she offered you the other half of the couch, and you obliged, sitting your purse on the floor next to you and crossing your ankles.

somehow, you felt equally comfortable in her home as you did out of place. the brightness and niceness of you seemed as if it would disrupt ellie’s dark energy and darkness of her home, but instead you felt welcomed. you felt as if the darkness blended with your light, and it was almost nice. It would’ve been lovely if you could’ve ignored the overarching, lingering smell of weed.

“i’m sure you want to get to the point and then leave,” ellie joked, taking a small sip of her drink. but that wasn’t true - you were in the mood to stay for hours. “a lot happened that night. but a lot led up to it, too. you see, i grew up in a house like yours. joel was a preacher for a while. tess, well, tess didn’t work. not since they met, which was only a couple years ago.”

as ellie took another sip of her beer, you put some pieces together. it made sense now why ellie and sarah looked nothing like her, and why ellie never seemed to be comfortable around her.

“so, knowing that information, when I came out to my dad and tess, neither of them were really cool about it. especially tess,” your brain lagged for a moment as you processed what she was saying. obviously she was gay. that made so much more sense than trying to piece together why a woman who was trying to attract men would dress the way she dresses, with hair and tattoos like hers.

“that’s what started the discomfort in our house, but that was before you, and before the new house,” she sighed, taking another sip of her drink. you were sure that the ‘new house’ meant more than what she was letting on. “a couple days after we moved in and two nights before you saw what you did, sarah was killed in a shooting.” your mouth fell agape.

“is that why you guys were fighting?” your pupils were blown and your mouth was still hanging open, ever so slightly. even when talking about the death of someone she cared for, she still loved the way you looked at her. like you cared.

“part of why. it was a shooting at a mall. I took her to that mall. I was there when it happened. I watched her die,” ellie spoke about the matter like it was just another blip in the radar. at this point in her life, that’s what it felt like. she got high so often that she was over it. she couldn’t afford therapy, so coping with drugs was the next best thing. “all of tess’s problems with me bubbled up that night. she had been in joel’s ear about how terrible I am, how much I smoke, how my lifestyle isn’t one they should agree with, y’know. and then she told him that it was my fault. that I didn’t protect sarah, his only living memory of his other wife. and for a while, he believed her.”

ellie’s eyes fell to the drink in her hands, and she watched it fizz and bubble. she wasn’t crying - she didn’t cry often. but reciting the story for the first time aloud brought on more feelings than she had anticipated it might’ve.

“I’m sure you can imagine the rest. joel and tess aren’t together anymore. tess died, cancer took her. karma sure is a bitch,” ellie laughed dryly, leaning back against the couch and manspreading. “he’s moving soon, since it’s just him in that big ol’ house. but I can’t go back. not after everything he said. not after he picked tess over me.”

“ellie… that’s– I’m so sorry, that’s so much worse than I thought it would be,” you faltered. you couldn’t find enough words, or the right words, to express the deepness you felt for her. “I’m sorry I didn’t try to reach out. I’ve spent years wondering about you, I should’ve made an effort.” ellie tried not to focus on the admission that thought about her, and shrugged.

“you didn’t know, nobody did. joel and tess were quiet about sarah’s death, quiet about their divorce, and when tess finally died, joel lived his life in the quiet. he hardly leaves, doesn’t have guests or friends.”

“I’m still sorry, els. truly.” ellie almost folded. “I have an appointment in half an hour, could we do this again? I’ll bring food, I can cook for you if you’ll let me.” ellie bit her lip, filthy images of you cooking for her (and doing other things for her) flooding her mind.

“yeah, that’d be great. next wednesday?” you grinned as you both stood up.

“perfect, send me your favorite dishes and I’ll go grocery shopping.” she walked you to the door, hand pressing gently into your lower back as she reached around you to the doorknob. your skin was on fire, you were sure you were blushing. through the thin material of your shirt, you could feel every bone in her fingers.

and… the drive to your appointment was nothing short of vulgar. well, vulgar to you. for someone like ellie, your unruly thoughts of her arms and fingers would probably just be considered slightly strange. but to you, your thoughts of her fingers curling against the curve of your waisted, or her arms pressing against your skin was dirty. no woman of god should think of another woman in the way you were thinking about her.

“But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” Matthew 5:28.

unfortunately for you, your indecent thoughts didn’t stop at your doctor’s appointment, or in the car on the way home, or as you talked to your mother as you helped her prepare dinner. so, when you sat down at the square table, taking your brother’s hand and your father’s hand, you prayed.

that’s all you did, for the rest of the week -

you prayed at every meal and before you when to bed. you prayed when you woke up, when you brushed your teeth, when you dressed and undressed. you prayed for a clean mind, and you prayed for ellie. Everything about ellie. you prayed that she found healing for her wounds, and that she would be blessed with food for the table and therapy if she needed it.

prayers weren’t the only thing on your mind, though, no matter how much you begged god to cleanse your thoughts.

when the lights were off and the house was quiet, she crept into your mind. and for a while, you let her. you let yourself wonder what her hands might feel like on your skin, or what she might do to you if given the chance. how her voice would sound as she whispered filthy things into your ear in the dark, or if the tattoo traveling down her fingers had a sinister meaning; maybe that was the hand she used when she did things to other women. women that weren’t you, because she hardly knew you and it was obvious that she didn’t have a thought of attraction towards you.

but what if she did?

ellie was going just as crazy as you were, but in a totally different way - an actually crazy way. she was out of her mind over everything about you. you coming to her house only made it worse. she spent hours perched in her spot, watching you sleep, fucking recording you. she smelled her pillows in the living room while getting off because your perfume had found its way onto them. you coming back on wednesday almost scared her. she couldn’t possibly keep herself sane with you around. the only reason she could the first time was because you two were talking about sarah. but this time, just you and her and dinner? she was utterly and entirely fucked.

when you arrived at her apartment on wednesday night, ellie knew that this would never work out. you were in a pinstripe dress, one that fell much shorter than your mother would’ve ever been okay with if you hadn’t snuck out, and white frilly socks that disappeared into black loafers. ellie was finding a level of obsession with you that rooted itself deep inside her, and it was disgusting. gross, creepy even.

“hi ellie,” you said with your thousand dollar smile. you held up a grocery bag, full of ingredients for shrimp scampi. “I got everything we’ll need. my mom gave me one of her fancy recipes, so we’re set for the night.” for the night. ellie wondered how late she could get you to stay. she also wondered how much you’d hate her if she locked you up here forever.

you slipped your shoes off your feet and trotted into the kitchen, setting out all of the materials and pulling the recipe up on your phone. ellie leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as she watched you methodically arrange everything in order of steps. “are you just gonna stand there?” you joked, beginning to open some of her cabinets.

“nope, just waiting for instructions, boss.” she couldn’t help but flirt. maybe if she flirted enough you would stay the night.

with how bossy you were in the kitchen, ellie could only imagine how bossy you’d be in bed. Insisting on what you wanted and making her do it. she also wondered if maybe it was the opposite. maybe this was all a trick, and you really needed someone to tell you what to do all the time. only time would tell - but ellie was impatient.

the kitchen was extremely cramped, and though most days ellie hated this, today it gave her a perfect in. you had the cabinet door open and she needed something on the far side of you. so, in order to touch you, she gingerly grabbed your hips while you bent over to look in her low cabinets and slid behind you, crotch pressing into your ass for a single beat before she made it to the other side. it would’ve been so easy to just push her pussy against your ass and grind, but she had a little more dignity than that, even if it’s what her body begged her to do.

“sorry ‘bout that, babe, gotta grab a bowl over here.” ellie spoke in the sluttiest voice she could muster, and she could tell by the deer-in-headlights look on your face that her plan was working.

a warm feeling rushed through you, from your chest all the way down to your core. you were fluttering all over - the feeling of her hands being on you was just so right. you almost begged for her to come back, grab you like that again, see where it went. you couldn’t think about god anymore, not when she was touching you and calling you babe.

an hour and a half later, the food was finished and you two had eaten, and you gathered on the couch next to each other, same spots as last week. ellie had a movie on, and when you folded your legs beneath yourself to get comfortable, she could see your panties. they were light green, but that was the most she could tell. if she could get them off of you tonight, she could keep them - that’s what she was thinking about.

you were trying not to focus on her hands. her hands. they were right there, so close, begging to be touched. as the moving progressed, you became more and more entranced by them. the way she tapped her thigh and sipped her drink, it was all fascinating. “ellie,” you said, before you could think twice, earning a hum in response, “can I touch your hand?”

her brows knit. “my hands? why’d’ya wanna touch my hands, doll?” a flush of blush fell on your face as you tried to construct a good reason as to why you just asked to touch the poor woman’s hands.

luckily, though, she didn’t push. she simply moved her hand and let you grab it, waiting a minute before beginning to trace the intricate lines of her tattoo. it was calming before anything else. the bottom of the tattoo was just basic, black-filled leaves, while the top was detailed and complex. ellie’s hands were warm, and her fingers were beginning to develop calluses. when you glanced around the room, you spotted the guitar responsible, and let your mind wander onto whether that made it feel better.

ellie was, by some miracle, keeping her cool. that was, until, your fingertips danced away from her hand, sliding up her forearm. her heart beat faster, making her breath quicker. she was getting dizzy. there was no possible explanation for this, other than her obsession with you. this wasn’t normal; she never got this worked up by something so miniscule with other women (not that there had been other women for the last year, she was too busy following you home and watching you through your window).

“ellie,” she looked over, and you were closer now. you must’ve moved while she was busy in her head. your face was so close that she could almost feel you breathing. and when she met your eyes and your pupils blew, big pretty doe eyes staring back at her, it was over.

ellie’s lips on yours were like nothing you had ever felt before. if there was any heaven, it was right here, on ellie williams’ couch, as she grabbed the back of your head with her open hand and pulled you closer to her. moments ago you were going to ask her if you could sleep over (it was dark and it had begun to rain), but none of that mattered now. all that mattered was the way ellie’s lips moved against yours, and the way she forced your mouth open to suck on your tongue. and you could taste her. you could feel her kisses deep down in your bones, and certainly in your cunt, which was what was leading your thoughts.

ellie was violent. she didn’t waste any time grabbing your hips and dragging you onto her lap, sliding her hands up from your hips to your waist. finally, finally, you knew what it felt like to have her slender fingers wrapped tightly around your waist as she continued to suck your tongue. you placed your hands on her chest, balling up the fabric of her shirt and pulling her into you.

but, in that moment, it hit you. you were doing something terrible, something completely out of your character. lust was a deadly sin. you can’t ignore deadly sins.

you pushed ellie back and she pouted, lips swollen and wet. “we can’t do this, its-it’s not what god wants, it’s a sin, els. I think that god sent me to you to help you heal and you-you really can’t heal by sinning.” midway through your sentence, ellie’s lips latched onto your neck, spinning her tongue and sucking your skin.

“sweet girl, I promise you you can.” she went back to kissing your neck, hands sliding underneath the skirt of your dress and up your thighs. she had her hands on your hips in no time, gently guiding them down against her crotch. the seam of her jeans felt good against your cunt, there was no denying it - which led you to wonder why people couldn’t do this. why is something so good such a terrible thing in god’s eyes?

“ellie,” you moaning her name made her moan; all of her wet dreams were finally coming true. she had you here, hips grinding down against her pussy while you moaned her name. there was nothing in the world better than this. “ellie I’ve never done this before.” you whispered, which got you nowhere. instead, she groaned deeply into the crook of your neck, restricting herself from bucking her hips into yours.

“oh but baby I’ve watched you grind against your pretty pillow for too many nights to hear you say that,” you whined, hips jerking into her lap.

“what do you mean?” you pulled her off of your chest, briefly admiring her pink cheeks and light pant before redirecting your focus to the more important portion of the question.

“I used to watch you from your window in my car,” her head fell against your chest. “you used the same pillow every time. it’s light pink, with flowers. matches your bedspread.” your head was spinning. there was no possible way that you were hearing what you thought you were hearing.

“what the fuck,” you sputtered. “you watched me do something so incredibly private? something that’s only supposed to be between me and god? how disgusting are you?” your only problem with what you were saying was that something inside you wasn’t disgusted. something inside you longed to know what she thought about while she watched you, longed to know if she thought you looked good.

“I’m so fucking disgusting, baby,” she huffed, “I’ve spent all year thinking about how I could tear you apart. make you forget about god, break you. make humping your pillow feel like less than nothing compared to the way I make you feel.” you were wet. so incredibly wet that your mind couldn’t be bothered to think about the fact that she was borderline stalking you.

“show me,” you whispered, making her head snap up and her wide eyes meet yours, blazing.

“what?” she said, quickly, hands still firmly planted on your hips.

“show me how disgusting you are.”

ellie was stronger than you thought. her hands were steady as she carried you from her couch to her bed, practically tossing you onto the springy bed as she pulled her shirt off, leaving her in a simple black sports bra. she climbed over you, one arm next to your head and the other on your waist, squeezing it. “I need this dress off,” she insisted, tugging at the material.

you sat up, unzipping the back and pulling it off your upper body before falling back and letting her pull it off your legs, leaving you in a strapless bra and a pair of panties. she was on you immediately, hardly leaving herself any time to toss your dress into a pile with her shirt.

her lips fell upon your chest, kissing along the edge of your bra. she pulled it down from your tits, guiding your back into an arch so that she could unclip it. once she had it off, she was moaning into your skin as she ran her tongue along your nipple. pressing a knee against your crotch to give you something to grind against, she caught your nipple in her mouth and sucked, pressing on the underside with her tongue, hitting the perfect spot that made you whimper against her.

this was terrible. for both of you. you were sinning against god, the one man that truly knew you. but it made you wonder, maybe he didn’t truly know you. not if he condemned you to a life of hiding your attraction to women because it was against him.

and for ellie - ellie was in heaven. but this moment in time meant that she was never going to let you go. her obsession grew with every noise you made under her, so much so that the idea of locking you up here swam across her mind again. she needed you here. she needed to ruin anyone else for you, so that you would always come back. even if it meant you crawled on your hands and knees.

once ellie was done with you tits (which took a very long time), she traced her lips over your sternum and down your stomach, leaving a trail of hickies in her wake. she was like a woman mad when she made it to your panties. she was filthy, pressing her face into you and simply breathing in your smell, basking it in.

but, when she finally pressed her tongue against you, none of her behavior mattered anymore. there were no longer thoughts -worries- about the fact that she watched you during the night, or that she was simply breathing in the smell of your cunt. it was her and you, and you were forming into one being, driven by need.

ellie lapped at you like a dog over your panties, even if it got her nowhere. once you were begging her to take them off she did, peeling them away from you and tucking them in her back pocket. she licked fat strokes from the bottom to the top, flicking against your clit in all directions. every time she hit the perfect spot, your legs shook hard, and your head lolled back against the pillow.

though your hand was in her hair and you could probably hold her anywhere that you wanted, you let her take charge, eating you like her life depended on it. like it was her last meal. she slid her tongue in you, sucked your clit, anything she could do to make you as wet as possible.

gently, she pressed the tip of her middle finger against your opening, unrelenting with her pace against your clit. you hardly noticed with the waves of pleasure rolling through your body, until you felt the slight burn of the small stretch from her fingers. now, her fingers weren’t all that large, but they were boney and long, and when her first finger bottomed out, you were already seeing stars. you were panting her name, arching and squirming every time she angled her fingers up against the spot you could never quite hit inside you.

pulling away from your clit, she pressed another finger into you, this time creating a slightly uncomfortable stretch. with a couple deep breathes, you were rocking your hips into her hand, trying to get the most out of her that you could. “look at me,” ellie demanded, making your eyes snap to hers. “because you’re a good girl, you’re not going to cum, do you hear me?” frantically, you nodded along to her words, but unfortunately, they didn’t last long.

with ellie’s ceaseless pace and her insistence on hitting every pleasure point she could, your stomach was coiling and your vision was going white, mere moments after telling her you wouldn’t, and surprisingly, she let you. she pushed until your orgasm was over, then pulled her fingers from you and sucked them clean, darkness in her eyes that you had never seen before.

“what did I tell you not to do?” she asked, pushing up from where she was laying and standing up, walking over to her closet and pulling out a large shoe box.

“cum.” you mumbled, a little scared and a little excited. you had an inkling as to what was in the box, but you were unsure, desperate to know regardless.

“do good girls cum when they’re not supposed to?” you shook your head, cheeks flaming in embarrassment. a part of you told yourself that this was crazy and gross, that no one was possibly attracted to this and that you should be ashamed, but the other half craved her approval. craved to be good for her, and to do what she says. and that part overrode the other.

climbing onto and kneeling on the bed in front of you, ellie reached beside you and grabbed one of her pillows, handing it to you before standing back up and leaning against one of the posters of her bed. you looked at her, confused. “since you love coming without permission and humping your pretty pillow, you’re gonna do it for me until you come again. can’t be that hard, sweetheart.”

you knew she wouldn’t let you out of this. with a pout, you sat up, placing the pillow between your thighs and sitting against it, slowly rocking your hips to find a nice rhythm. you leaned forward, planting one hand on the bed below you and the other on the pillow, letting your back relax as you found a good spot. ellie stood before you, doing nothing but watching. she followed your hips as they moved back and forth, eventually coming down hard and fast against her pillow as you chased your release.

historically, humping your pillow never really got you anywhere, but you were too scared to finger yourself, fearing that it would make you impure to whomever your future husband was. turns out, all you needed was an orgasm prior to doing it to make you cum.

with a strangled moan you came again, panting as you unmounted the pillow and looked over at ellie, who looked just about ready to fuck your brains out. coincidentally, that’s what she was planning on doing.

she pushed away from the poster and unzipped her pants, kicking them off as she reached for her box. she didn’t only pull out one thing, no, she pulled out an army. first, a forest green strap attached to a black harness, which she sat on the end of the bed, followed by two other dildos, one black and one pink. you couldn’t fathom what she could possibly need three for, and you had to imagine you were in for a rough couple of hours.

“we’re gonna try some stuff, pretty girl. you’re gonna love it, since you love being stuffed so much.” she grabbed your hips, and, with a tug, flipped you onto your stomach. instinctively, you pushed your hips up, gripping the sheets in anticipation. though you couldn’t easily see her, you could hear her uncapping a bottom and squirting something onto either her fingers or the strap, before squirting it onto you.

the liquid was cold, and she started the drip down your ass, until it crept down your opening. with a toss of the bottle, she pressed one hand between your shoulder blades and used the other to maneuver the strap towards your entrance, starting with just the tip. she took it slow, pushing in inch by inch and letting you adjust to them. this was a different kind of full, compared to ellie’s fingers. the strap was stretching you in all directions, burning as you clung tight to it. and when she finally bottomed out, you were sure nothing would ever feel better than this.

once it was all in comfortably, ellie wasted no time fucking into you. she was going crazy watching the full length of her dick get swallowed up by your soaked pussy, covered in slick and lube and her spit. this was every dream she had ever had coming true.

“we’re gonna try something else now, okay?” you whined in protest, enjoying the feeling of her dick inside you, it was almost familiar now. but she didn’t pull out like you anticipated, instead she reached over and grabbed the pink dildo, lubing it up with whatever she used earlier.

“ellie what are you doing?” you asked, part pant. just for the question, she pulled out and took a deep thrust into you, trying to keep you satisfied while she fiddled with the lube. before you could utter another thought, the second dildo was probing your ass, slowly, cautiously, pressing into your asshole. “ellie!” you whimpered.

“you need to trust me baby. I know my girl wants all her holes filled. trust me, we’re gonna fill all of them.” you whined as she pushed the head of the dildo in your ass, tears welling up in your eyes from the burn. after only a few inches, you were sure you couldn’t take anymore. you were so full, everything pressing into you at every angle. but ellie was persistent - cooing at you until she got the last two inches in, and then groaning like a mad man.

the sight was one to die for: you, face and tits squished into the bed with your ass up in the air, full of her dick and dildo. with one hand on your hip and the other placed back against your shoulder blades, ellie fucked you at a rapid pace, thrusts shaking the whole bed against the wall. not only was she chasing your third release, but she was chasing her own as well, and the way the harness hit her clit when she fucked hard could get her there.

with the sight and the noises you were making, ellie came in no time. you followed soon after, crying from overstimulation and the pure feeling that came with a third orgasm around double penetration. but ellie wasn’t done yet - she pulled out two dildos for a reason, and the other was still waiting for its purpose. she did promise to fill all your holes, after all.

pulling out from you and climbing to the front of her bed, ellie used the suction of the dildo to attach it to her headboard. you wondered if she maybe wanted to watch you fuck against it, like you had seen in a few porn videos over the years, but that wasn’t the case.

“you’re gonna suck that dick while I fuck you,” she instructed, and the idea seemed totally crazy, but when your mouth was lined up with the dildo and she was slipping into you again, you were more than willing to try anything.

with each of her thrusts, the dildo hit the gag of your throat, making you gag and choke and moan. you must’ve looked crazy; tears rolling down your cheeks, drool gathering around your bottom lip and dripping onto her pillow. to her, well, she just came again watching you. she marveled at how far down your throat you could take her dick, reveling on how you had ‘never done this before’.

with a squeal and more gagging, you came for the fourth time and final time of the night, slumping against the pillows beneath you. ellie let up when she came again, making you cry even harder. she pulled her dick out and eased the dildo out of your ass, tossing them back in the box to wash them.

“my girl did such a good job,” she praised as she brought you a washcloth, running it down your thighs and over your pussy. your mind was foggy, too foggy to bother with a response or anything other than crawling under the covers (ellie had to lift them up and tuck you in). “you’ll stay the night, yeah?” the bedside clock read one a.m.

“yeah,” you mumbled, resting your head on her chest and letting your eyes flutter shut. when you awoke the next morning, you knew you would have several feelings surrounding everything that happened, the most prevent knowing that it was absolutely fucking disgusting.

taglist: @lvlymicha @pearlywhitecigarettes @na0koz @natalieisntreal @bbnbhm @civiueueueh @mya123abc @bartshart @kaykeryyy @vahnilla @bellaramseysgirlfriend @piercedome @littlemisslexapro55555

[goldfades]

I feel like we need to have a TikTok trend blurbs I just love the ones you did already.

Like when the reader and Luke is going to bed and he says “goodnight I love you and she says thank you”that one can be good

i love these sm HAHAHHAHAA

the apartment is quiet, the kind of stillness that settles over everything once the day is officially over. you’re in bed, tucked under the covers with the bedside lamp casting a warm glow across the room. luke’s in the bathroom brushing his teeth—you can hear the faint sound of the faucet running and the occasional shuffle of his feet against the tiles.

you’re scrolling through your phone, aimlessly thumbing through videos, when you hear him pad into the room. he’s shirtless, wearing the same old pair of gray sweatpants you always threaten to steal, and his hair’s still slightly damp from his shower. it’s a sight you’ve seen a hundred times, but it still makes your chest do that stupid little flip.

“you on tiktok again?” he teases, climbing into bed and nudging your shoulder with his.

“maybe,” you reply, locking your phone and setting it on the nightstand. “what’s it to you?”

he smirks, leaning back against the pillows and pulling you closer so your head rests against his chest. “just wondering what you’re plotting this time. you’ve been suspiciously quiet lately.”

you roll your eyes, poking his side until he squirms. “not everything’s a scheme, hughes.”

“uh-huh,” he says, voice laced with skepticism but too sleepy to argue further. instead, he wraps an arm around you, his palm warm against your shoulder.

there’s a long stretch of silence, the kind that’s comfortable and familiar. his breathing starts to even out, his hand absently tracing patterns on your arm, and you think he’s on the brink of sleep when he speaks up. your phone is already recording, showing half of your face and the curls behind you.

“goodnight,” he murmurs softly, voice low and drowsy. “i love you.”

you pause for just a second—just enough to be noticeable—before answering in the most nonchalant tone you can muster:

“thank you.”

the room goes still.

his hand stops moving, and you feel his chest rise as he takes a slow, deliberate breath.

“...what?” he asks, his voice sharper now, tinged with confusion.

you shift slightly, pretending to adjust the blankets. “i said thank you.”

he pulls back, just enough to tilt his head and look down at you. “that’s not what you’re supposed to say.”

you blink up at him, feigning innocence. “what do you mean? it’s polite to say thank you when someone says something nice.”

his brows furrow, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “but—but that’s not how this works,” he argues, his tone half exasperated, half bewildered. “i say ‘i love you,’ and you’re supposed to say it back!”

“huh,” you say, tapping your chin like you’re deep in thought. “weird. i don’t think that’s a rule.”

“it is a rule,” he insists, sitting up now, the sleepiness completely gone from his face. “it’s literally, like, the rule.”

you bite back a grin, watching as he spirals into full-on disbelief. “are you saying you don’t love me?” he asks, his voice cracking slightly at the end.

“no, i didn’t say that,” you reply, stretching the words out.

“then why didn’t you say it back?!”

you shrug, trying to keep a straight face. “felt like switching things up.”

“switching things up?” he repeats, his voice going higher, and you have to physically turn your head to avoid laughing in his face.

“yeah, keeps the relationship interesting,” you explain, patting his hand like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“oh, my god,” he groans, flopping back against the pillows dramatically. “you’re actually evil. you’re trying to kill me. this is emotional warfare.”

you finally let out the laugh you’ve been holding in, and he turns his head to glare at you, though the corners of his mouth twitch like he’s fighting a smile.

“i hate you,” he mutters, but there’s no real bite to it.

you lean over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “love you too, babe.”

he groans again, but this time he pulls you back into his arms, his chin resting on the top of your head. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbles.

you grin, snuggling closer. “thanks, love you too.”

“stop saying thank you!”

[bvidzsoo]

♡ ATEEZ as dads ♡

author: bvidzsoo

pairing: ot8 x reader

tw: none

word count: 3.3k

genre: established relationships, parents, blurbs/scenarios

rating: sfw

summary: have you ever tried envisioning Ateez as fathers? well, this is my take on the subject ^^ a collective of short and cute drabbles bellow the cut

a/n: hello, my lovelies, this was a cute little request and despite not taking requests (just wanted to clear that up), today is my birthday and I decided to make this my little gift for you all! ^^ also, anonie, I hope this is satisfying and close to how you imagined it to be! divider

🐿️Hongjoong

☆ Okay, so, despite all the boomer vibes I get from Hongjoong he'd still be the coolest dad, like?! All of your kid's friends would love him because he's just the type of father that not only shows up for his child but also like partakes in like absolutely everything?! Oh, you have an event at school where you have to bring one parent? Yup, Hongjoong is going (dressed to the nines, might I add, while also wearing something matching with his kid) and he's also going to be cheering you on loudly from the sidelines (to the point the other parents will be side-eyeing him, but that's fine, he doesn't care). And like, he's also the type of dad to sneak inside his kid's room when it's completely dark and then scare the living shit out of them as he starts making monster-like sounds, the kid is terrified okay, but soon they are giggling and wrestling, and the child will go to sleep rather fast because Hongjoong managed to wear them out. But Hongjoong is also the type of father who wants to capture everything so he always has his camera with him and he takes a lot of pictures, okay, and he also makes albums at the end of each year because his kid is growing and he doesn't want to miss even a second (are you sobbing? I would be if I had a dad like him).

☆ And Hongjoong is also the type of father to plan trips mostly in nature, where you can go on a hike and just forget about the ruckus in the city, where you can connect with nature and just be in the moment. He would definitely pick a colour scheme or one clothing item that would be matching for all the family members because it's cute and because he's infinitely proud and eager to show off his kid(s) and wife. He cracks jokes (even if they are your typical dad jokes), and he makes sure his kid(s) feel seen and heard. He tries not to pressure them and lets them explore the world while remaining a guide they can always rely on.

🐰Seonghwa

♡ Yup, trust this man to get up before his wife and child to make them breakfast and something to pack for later when they get hungry, he's that type of guy, yeah. We know he's soft-spoken, and I see him as the type of dad who is very patient with his kid(s) and who pays a lot of attention to them to make sure he truly understands them. I feel like Seonghwa would organize "chill nights" where you all cosy up on the couch and pick a movie (which is age-appropriate, obviously) and he lets you eat excessive popcorn because he knows his wife isn't keen on their kid(s) eating junk food.

♡ Also, I get the feeling that holidays would be big at the Park residence. Like, he'd make sure everything is perfect because he'd be also organizing big ass get-togethers where both sides of the family are coming over for lunch or dinner. And I think he'd also love Christmas because he could spoil his family without getting complaints or reprimands, so yeah, he'd make a big deal out of it each.time. He'd help cook and bake and clean, he'd probably do more of that, and he'd disappear for hours because he was looking for the perfect gifts (and trust that each person will get at least three items if not more). I also think Seonghwa would check on his kid(s) anytime he wakes up in the middle of the night, and he'd certainly tuck them in each time, pressing a kiss to their forehead(s). He'd be very gentle and soft and the kid(s) would grow up in a safe space where they'd know they can freely speak and express their likes and dislikes because their parents will be supportive no matter what.

🐶Yunho

❀ This man is a giant, we know that too well, so honestly, piggybacks and him letting his kid(s) sit on his shoulders while they are out and about would be routine at this point. Like, even if his kid wouldn't ask to be carried, Yunho would be sweeping them off their feet and letting them do whatever as he carried them around. I feel like he'd also quite often get cute aggression, so he'd definitely be tackling them (in a gentle and non-endangering way) to press a dozen kisses against their cheeks, and I think he'd also love tickling them because of their cute laughter! (I'm struggling rn, who's getting cute aggression now??) Anyways, I have a feeling that if his kid(s) somehow manages to hurt themselves (like they fall and scrape their knees or hands) Yunho would rush to their side and hold them and sweet talk to them with a pout on his lips and sad eyes, trying to lighten their mood while he tells them that everything will be okay.

❀ I feel like Yunho is the type to get emotional over, perhaps, non-trivial things that concern his kids. Their tooth fell out and the Toothfairy is coming? Yup, a tear is rolling down his cheek because "Omg, the kid is getting bigger!", also you know that thing where they make you stand against the wall (or edge of the door) to measure your height while you're still growing? Yeah, I feel like Yunho would have to take a walk around the house after measuring his kid's height in order to will the tears away because the kid is two centimetres taller than he was a month ago and he “can't do this, why are they growing so quickly?!” Yunho is definitely the type of father who wakes up his kid(s) in the morning by brushing their hair aside and whispering to them softly, coaxing them out of their sleep. He'd also be always smiling, his kid(s) wouldn't know what Yunho's serious face looks like because he'd never looked at them like that. He'd be cracking jokes and making his kid(s) laugh, but he'd also listen to them if they came to him for advice, and I feel like he's great at reading people's moods, so he'd know when to offer them space or annoy them until the kid(s) get fed up with him and give in to him wanting to kick a ball or something.

🦄Yeosang

 🜲 Well, let's be honest, with a dad like Yeosang, I feel like the kid(s) would be considered a little peculiar? But like in a very positive sense of the word because have you seen Yeosang's humour? Immaculate, dare I say, and his kid(s) have definitely inherited that from their dad. I feel like Yeosang is generally a calm and quiet person, but when it comes to his kid(s) he gets like hyper because he wants to do everything they ask him to, and he'll talk and talk until his kid(s) are pressing their tiny hands against his mouth to make him shut up. I think Yeosang would love to listen to his kid(s) stories, like "Yes, tell me all about your mate from kindergarten and his rescued grasshopper and also, what do you mean you ate a spider, child?! Spiders are not for eating!!" Yeah, I feel like Yeosang would forget his kid(s) at daycare at least once or twice (only at the beginning, I promise, like my dad forgot me there once: TMI). So what I was saying is, that because Yeosang loves hearing his kid(s)' stories, he will be reacting with grand gestures and everything and it will only amuse his child, because they'd get even more excited to tell him more about his day.

 🜲 Also, I feel like while his kid is a baby and can't speak, he'd blabber back to them and constantly poke their tummy "Because babies are so cute, I think I'm going to combust", and he'd definitely rush up to his wife with the baby in his arms to show off that they have reached new levels of communication, and it'd surprise his wife because the two are now blabbering to each other and the baby is laughing and Yeosang is grinning so wide his cheeks are hurting. I think Yeosang would love to take the baby out on walks as the sun is setting (assuming they are in Seoul) and watch the sunset as the sun disappears behind the Han River, and he'd definitely snap pictures with the baby where his face isn't fully showing just so that he can post it, and then he'd take selfies and send them to the family's group chat. I think Yeosang would be the type of father who never shuts up about their kid (even to his own parents) and tries to be the best father, super supportive and, not going to lie, he'd probably spoil them too because he wants to give them everything they want and need. He'd be always there for them, even if just from the sidelines, and if there were a contest for proudest father of the year, Yeosang would surely win it!

🐱San

❀ The most important question here is, who's the baby? Okay, I'm joking but San would definitely sleep facing the baby, eyes watery because he still cannot believe that's his child and that child is going to grow up by his side and he's created a tiny life that will turn into a grown person one day and he cannot stop it just go with the flow. So yes, San would be the emotional type of father, but not to the extent that it becomes uncomfortable lol. He has strong principals/morals so he'll definitely teach his child the views he has of the world and life itself, but he'd make sure to leave space for his kid(s)' own opinions and views, so that they can create their own believes while taking an example out of their father. We all know San's background, so I think he'd definitely sign up his kid(s) to Taekwondo or another similar sport, mostly because he wants them to know how to defend themselves, but also because it teaches them discipline.

❀ San's kid(s)' will be the politest and most well-behaved you'll ever see, I think they'd rarely cry and stick close to their parents because they know they are safe and comforting. San would have a close and good bond with his kid(s), he'd take them places and let them explore the world. Given that San loves amusement parks so much, I'm sure he'd make it a weekly program to take them there, trying out rides that were appropriate for their ages, laughing all day and eating whatever their tummies (and hearts) desired. I think San would only give his kid(s)' the best, so yes, they'll go to the best school, they'll only wear the best clothes, and they'll only eat healthy food (with exceptions, ofc, he's no tyrant to deny a good hamburger and fries), but he wouldn't spoil his kid(s) to the point they become brats. Also, I feel like San would love it if his children would be on good terms with his best friend's kids, so yup, expect a lot of get-togethers and trips with the two/three (or eight lmao) families, which would be a hustle to every outsider lol. So, all in all, San would be strict but so very loving, he'd do his best to raise his kids well-mannered and humble (just like him bfr) and he'd make sure that he was a strong pillar they could always lean on and count on. (why am I getting emotional too...?)

🐣Mingi

 🜲 *sigh*, where do I begin??? Bickering, lots of it, because "What do you mean you don't like mashed potatoes but you'll eat french fries?!!! They are the same, child, just eat it and stop whining!!" oh, and also, "What do you mean you want to go party, it's 11 pm and you're only seventeen?!" (if you've seen 10 Things I Hate About You, just picture the girls' dad when he makes Bianca wear that pregnancy vest before going out LMAO). So, yes, lots of nagging too, I guess, but it's actually well-intended and oh so loving!! Everyone thinks Mingi is intimidating (bfr besties) and I think his kid(s)' friends would be intimidated at first sight, but then Mingi invites them inside and goes to the kitchen to fetch them some snacks, and he accidentally knocks into the chair or table and he swears loudly and the kids start giggling because swearing is an adult thing still and it's funny, and then Mingi appears in the doorway and he's scowling, but he flushes when he realizes the kids heard him, so he tries to play it off but really, he looks like a clown so his child's friends instantly take a liking to him!

 🜲 You can't contradict me on this, but I feel like if his kid started crying over something, Mingi would stare at them blankly before starting to (fake) cry too and this often leads to 2 outcomes: 1. the kid stops crying and looks at him like Mingi's crazy (judgingly) & 2. the kid starts crying harder because they know Mingi is making fun of them, and it makes Mingi panic, so now he's cradling them to his chest and trying to shush them and calm them down, because "If the wife hears, we're both dead kid, got it???" I think Mingi would be his kid's best friend before being their father, if you get what I mean? Like, sure, he'll scold them and put them in their place if needed, but he'll totally gossip with them and bring them a sandwich just so he can lounge around in their room (because Mingi won't admit it, but the kid is getting bigger and he feels like he's running out of time and that's terrifying), and he'll tell them things that perhaps should've been better if he kept it to himself. I think he'd always be in front of his kid(s)' school (no matter the age) after classes to pick them up, and he'd definitely do carpool karaoke on their way home, only running one red light (excuse the man, he's excited or something). So yeah, Mingi would be caring and careful with his kid(s), attentive and there for them, but he'd show them that just because he's their father it doesn't mean they aren't equal (most of the time), and they don't have to hide anything from him, really. (Just maybe the fact that they didn't come home last night at the agreed-upon hour, oops~)

🦊Wooyoung

♡ Loud, both of them, loud. But it's fine, because if they are loud at least the wife knows they are enjoying themselves. Because when it becomes quiet, that's when you just know they are up to no good. Like that one time when you were working from home and their giggling and screeching stopped, prompting you to check up on them, only to find your kid(s)' hair drenched in some neon-pink colour which is, ofc, washable, your makeup strewn all over the floor because Wooyoung was feeling funny and decided to paint their faces (it looked terrible, but you said nothing). Also, menaces, both of them, to the point they'd wear matching Halloween costumes and freak out the whole street as they'd randomly start chasing both children and adults (they are either dressed as Chucky or Ghostface, there's no in-between). All of that put together, however, Wooyoung would be always by his kid(s)' side if he could, and he'd be teaching them everything about the world. He'd read to them a lot and he'd watch a lot of History and National Geography with them lol.

♡ And yes, we know Wooyoung is a very affectionate person and that he likes to show his love physically, so there would be a lot of kisses, cuddles, hugs and tickles. Wooyoung would love to carry his kid(s) in his arms while they were still that age, holding their small heads against his chest, pointing out things to them as he explained everything the baby was curious about. I feel like Wooyoung would also take the family to the seaside a lot, he'd love to go inside the sea and play around by splashing each other, accidentally getting swept up by a wave, making his kid(s) laugh as their father struggled to find his footing again. And I'm pretty sure Wooyoung would constantly feed his kid(s) while they were eating, putting more and more food in their plate despite it being almost full already, and no matter what age, Wooyoung will coo at his kid(s) because they will always be his babies! (*cue the sobbing*) And I am sure Wooyoung would be his kid(s) safe haven, someone whose arms are always wide open and ready to comfort or just to hold them, remind them that he's always there for them. Wooyoung would be the type of father to encourage his kids, always, teaching them that the world's opinion about them never mattered and never will, that they should always chase their own dreams and live a happy and fulfilled life. And, similar to Hongjoong, his camera's SD card would be filled with so many memories, ah…

🐻Jongho

☆ A complete jokester, sneaky and the type of father to first laugh when their kid falls before going over to pick them up. I feel like the kid wouldn't be able to tell if their father is their worst enemy or best friend at first, because Jongho isn't afraid to scrutinize them and judge them down to the bone, but the next second the man is sticking his tongue out and cracking a joke, and the child is confused because why can't their father just pick one mood for five minutes at least? I think Jongho would love to antagonize his children with dad jokes, he's aware they are terrible but seeing the look on his children's faces is always worth it. Imagine Jongho trolling his kids any chance he gets, as an excuse for preparing them for life (we all know he just likes playing with them), and he'd be tapping their shoulders and hiding behind a tree or something, and he'd run after them down the dark hallway, making scary noises, and he'd randomly open their doors and just stand there with a blank face until his kid(s) are either scared or screaming at him to get out.

☆ I don't know why, but, I have to mention cooking. I'm pretty sure he'd gather up the family at least thrice a week, and their evening would consist of picking a recipe and making it together while some sports plays on the TV and the parents are sipping on wine while the children can have orange juice or maybe chocolate milk. I also think he'd often buy his kid(s) flowers, no matter the gender because everyone deserves flowers, and he'd probably buy them chocolate too because (guess what?) he secretly eats them and blames it on his wife so the children don't pester him about the missing chocolate lol. I feel like Jongho would raise his kids to be smart and logical, always finding solutions and not fearing the unknown (I mean, if your father chases you down a dark corridor, who fears ghosts anymore, no??) and because he's a little sneaky shit, of course, his children will end up like him too ("it's okay to cheat when playing board games", would say Jongho but also whine for an hour if he found out one of the family member's did cheat, acting as if he didn't also). Jongho would be their best pall but also their role model, he'd raise his children to be outstanding and determined, unafraid to go after what they want. I know he'd support their hobbies and always encourage them to try out new things. He'd love quiet evenings where he can hear his kid(s) in their room(s) giggling and laughing about whatever, calling him to keep them company before it's time for bed. <3

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❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[merlucide]

THE MIYA SIBLINGS…

Oh your absolutely insufferable, stupid, annoying brothers (..that you guess.. you kinda love..) drive you freakin’ bonkers! Life as a first-year with two obnoxious third-year brothers isn’t easy, and yet, somehow, every day is its own brand of chaos. So, what does an average day in the Miya household look like? Well… here’s a glimpse.

pairings: Miya twins x youngersister!reader (NOT SHIP)

type: Headcannons/blurbs + SMAU (texts, twt)

genre: crack, fluff, comfort

key: y/n = your name n/n = nickname

warnings: cursing, the twins embarrassing reader, reader has no friends lmao, shit/piss mentions, the twins being pervs (yk that tho)

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Everyone at Inarizaki knew the Miya twins. And then they found out about the Miya siblings.

When you first came to Inarizaki, walking around with their man (aka Atsumu and Osamu), the Miya fangirls immediately took notice. At first, they thought you were a girlfriend—until they learned the shocking truth: the Miya twins have a younger sister?!

That’s when the befriending attempts began. They’d wait outside your classroom, invite you to lunch, and you honestly thought they ?? just really wanted?? To be friends you?? It felt really nice!

But the moment they opened their mouths, it was all, “Eeeeeek! Your brothers are soooo hot!!!”

And you were just like, ‘oh’ ‘🧍‍♀️😑’

 Yeah those ‘friendships’ did not last very long… 

—-And obviously you were popular with amongst the boys. The Miya curse I fear. Samu did nawt approve of your new popularity lol. Tsumu was jealous that people were talking about YOU and not HIM lmao— tho tsumu LOVES bragging about you/showing you off. He’s like ‘oh yeah my baby sister can do this!—‘ ‘welll MYYY sister can do that better than YOURRR sister’

Anywho the twins love having you at the same school!!! Atsumu always stops by your class during breaks either to talk to you or just piss you off lmao. Osamu ends up being your unofficial walking schedule lol (not that surprising tbh) ‘Ain’t ya supposed to be in the library?’ ‘Didn’t ya say ya had a quiz today?’ ‘Why are ya here? Don’t ya got PE?’ He flicks your forehead (affectionate) and is like ‘get to class’ 🙄+😐

(You got him his bowl)

When it comes to typical overprotective older sibling behavior, Osamu takes the crown. He’ll literally insert himself into any conversation you have with a guy—every. single. time. It’s actually the worst. He will embarrass you and terrify the guy. One time a guy came over, all confident trying to talk to you. Before you could even react, Osamu literally stepped in front of you, staring the guy down like he was an inconvenience to his entire existence.

Then with the most uninterested, deadpan expression ever, he just like ‘no’

He won’t let anything start 😒 you def ignore him after he pulls shit like that. He dgaf tho lmao

Atsumu, on the other hand, is like your wingman, sorta.. He hypes up your crushes, encourages the flirting… but the second things actually start progressing (ex:lovey-dovey texts, potential boyfriend territory, lingering touches), he’s suddenly all up in your business—and the poor guy’s too. He’ll casually throw an arm around both you and the guy, all smiles, and go, ‘So, how’s it goin’?😁’

you’re glaring daggers at him your eyes screaming ‘Tsumu, istg I’m gonna kill you’ and the guy’s practically slithering away while you whisper-scream at Atsumu while he acts all innocent. Oooooor he’ll just shriek and yank you away saying how ‘yer too little for boys’, while glaring at said guy.

But if you ever wanna hang out with anyone he’ll try to set smth up for ya!! (As long as he approves of who)

Osamu is nawt good at trying to show his love 🧍‍♀️ his love languages are quality time, acts of service, and physical touch (sorta, he’s not rlly good at it but wants to be close yk?). Like he won’t initiate (most the time) but if you hug him he’ll hug you back. He just like asks if you want him to take you somewhere or smth. He shows his care for ya n tsumu by making food all the time, it’s what he’s good at and loves, and loves that you both love it. He also always wants to be there for ya. Samu is great emotional support, he doesn’t say a lot but says EXACTLY what you need to hear. Will just sit with you and let you get what you need off your chest. He’ll put his arm around you and rub up and down. 

Atsumu is very unique at showing his love 🧍‍♀️ his love languages are physical touch, words of affirmation, and quality time. When you were little Atsumu and Osamu would both hold your hand when you would walk around, and when you got older and wouldn’t hold his hand anymore he was so sad 😭🙏 he’s a hugger, but he’s still your older brother, so he’ll like mess your hair up then hug you lmao. Always asks if you wanna practice with him, he always feels cool teaching you something new :)

Atsumu is also your number one hype man like if you ever feel like you can’t do smth tsumu has a whole list of just exactly why/how you can. He’s not even trying to make you feel better it’s what he genuinely believes :)

Oh and they are both way too invested in any drama you’re involved in/even just aware of. The second you run into the room and announce, “I’ve got tea,”they’re already locked in, heads propped on their hands, eyes wide like you’re about to deliver the most important news of their lives.

‘Spill NOW’

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tags: @sharkissm @someprettyname @fishii28 @shrii-kk

well this is all I have for Miya siblings rn 😔😔 tumblr will only let me upload 30 images, I had more 🧍‍♀️🙏

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I do!! I love Miya siblings so much ughhhh I wish they were my older brothers sooo bad it HURTs

lemme know what you think!!!! I LOVE FEEDBACK!!

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made February 11th 2025

[lay-z]

those ties that bind us

SUMMARY: You choose a new pair of alphas over what you've come to know.

PAIRING: Poly!alpha!141 x omega!Reader x alpha!AleRudy

WARNINGS/INFO: 18+ MDNI | OMEGAVERSE AU | female!Reader; angst; a/b/o dynamics; hurt/comfort; cussing; smut; spit kink; bad Spanish translations; bonding; open end

Based on this little blurb. 🩶

You had a feeling it would happen someday if your packmates, the alphas who you’ve spent and shared most of your life with for the better part of the past three years, won’t finally make a move, make you theirs officially—but now that it happened eventually, you’re not quite sure how to tell them. 

Perhaps you didn’t do enough? Didn’t make your intentions clear with none of them? The desire to be claimed, to belong, to be loved—always put off by Price, smiled at by Gaz, supported but never pursued by Soap, and straight up ignored by Ghost. 

As you follow Simon and Johnny over the busy tarmac, your combat boots begin to feel heavy with each step you take that leads you further away from Alejandro and Rudy, the alphas who are now courting you and currently staying behind by the truck after saying their goodbyes to their foreign comrades.  

Even then, you’d wondered if neither Simon nor Johnny found it odd when you chose not to say your own farewells to the other two alphas after finishing a successful operation, but again they stayed oblivious to the bond that has been blossoming between you and the Mexican soldiers since you’ve first stepped foot into Las Almas. 

Just last night it was Alejandro who had told you that, perhaps it will be better if you’re the one to break the news to them, though assuring you: “We’ll always have your back, cariño,”. 

And now, the harsh tug you’re currently experiencing deep down in your chest cavity, right behind your heart, only puts the last necessary nail in the coffin for you. 

You’re staying. 

As if on cue, your body works before your mind catches up—still both mentally and physically recovering from the mission—and you freeze in your steps, coming to an abrupt halt that causes Simon to glance over his shoulder, having noticed you in his peripherals like the vigilant alpha he is.  

And it causes a chain reaction, when Johnny follows his leader's reaction, stopping dead in his tracks and following Simon’s line of vision until bright blue eyes settle on you, a puzzled look settling on his ruggedly chiselled face.  

You speak up before either of them can: “This is goodbye... for now,” you tell them over the loud noises surrounding you on the airfield, and you try to keep your voice firm and steady, but it cracks at goodbye before your throat tightens painfully enough to make your eyes well up with tears. 

Simon and Johnny share a long, meaningful look, having a full-on conversation with their eyes in a language you don’t speak like you’ve witnessed so many times before, and then they fully turn simultaneously before approaching you with purposeful steps that make you brace yourself for an argument. 

“Whot’s tha’?” Simon asks, towering and gripping the straps of his bulky tac vest while tilting his masked head like a curious puppy. You know he’s just trying to give you another chance to change your words, but this time you won’t. 

“Whaddaya mean by ‘goodbye’, bon?” Johnny chimes in, brows furrowed while his gaze flickers between you and then over your shoulder, eye narrowing as they land on their allies—friends—the alpha males still watching the scene unfold with crossed arms and squared shoulders—looking ready to step in any second if need be. 

Johnny takes note of the sudden tension and dominance oozing off Alejandro and Rudy, how the comradery and friendliness from before has now seemingly disappeared soon as he and Simon approached you this time—as if they suddenly have a claim on you that your literal packmates don’t. 

And just like that, it dawns on them like a physical blow to the chest. 

Simon’s jaw clenches as he tries to reign in the rumbling growl building up in his chest while Johnny doesn’t bother to hide the snarl taking over his face, sharpening his features into something feral; both of their scents spiking in intensity, lacing the hot-humid air with sour pheromones, ready to scent mark and drag you onto the cargo plane with them if push comes to shove. 

Your eyes widen at once, a deer caught in headlights, staring at the truck coming full speed at her. 

“Ye’re comin’ home with us,” Johnny growls, gloved hands balling into tight fists at his sides to keep himself from simply snatching your wrist before Simon’s hand comes up to rest on his shoulder like a physical leash. “Easy there, Soap.” 

Neither of them is angry with you, you can tell that much, but judging by their blown pupils and dominant stances, something strange is happening. 

“I’m not coming with you. I’m–” Your heart thumps violently and your breath hitches momentarily, making it harder for you to get the words out as both men stare at you intensely, expecting you to make a choice that’d be in their favour. 

But you’ve made your decision. 

“I’m staying here... with Alejandro and Rudy. I have–I have already informed Price last night and asked for special leave,” you explain, fidgeting with your hands while your pulse thrums in your neck. 

A strange sensation goes through your body as you speak those words; a buzzing energy rushing through your veins as you cut those emotional packbonds, now brittle by the years of neglect, to focus on the future waiting for you just a few yards away—a tiny seedling soaking up sunshine for the first time, finally stepping away from the trees who’ve drowned her in shadows, causing harm without even meaning to. 

Johnny shakes his head slowly, disbelief settling on his face as the crease between his brows disappears, eyes softening. For a moment, it almost looks like something inside him shatters, as if he can feel it, too. 

“No... please,” he breathes, reaching out to grasp your hand while his shoulders slouch. “Ye cannae jus’... do this, bon. Ye belong with us,” he squeezes your hand weakly, “–our wee omega.” 

A soft whimper escapes your throat, one that has Alejandro and Rudy perk up with worry despite the distance, and one that makes Johnny’s eyes water—because he knows what it means. Your decision is final and it’s their own bloody fault. 

They should’ve seen it coming, should’ve noticed the signs even amidst battle, and yet they didn’t; thinking they still had time. 

“I’ll miss ye,” Johnny rasps before pulling you against his chest only to bury his face into your neck to inhale your sweet scent greedily, hoping it will brand itself into his nostrils—one last time. Warm blueberry tarte, honey-soaked linen, and freshly cut grass, a concoction now dulled by sadness, though still perfect, still—theirs. It makes his teeth itch to bite, to mark, and his chest feels heavy, unable to let you go just like that. 

“Are ye sure, luv?” he mutters against your skin and his nose presses into your virgin scent gland in a way that makes you shiver. You nod meekly, eyes squeezed shut as you rub your face against his shirt, leaving your scent on him instinctively. Just for the flight home to make him feel better, you think. Always the good omega looking out for her pack. 

“I’m sure,” you reply so quietly, you can barely hear it yourself. “It’s been inevitable from the moment I saw them... smelled them.” 

You can’t see it, but your admission shatters them; cracks their ribcages open underneath their gear and stabs their hearts repeatedly until there’s nothing left but bloodied, torn muscle and shredded heartstrings—hurting even a cold one. 

After another moment, Johnny releases you reluctantly; strong arms flexing with tension as they lower at his sides. He rests his forehead against yours, chuffs low in his throat—a quiet, sorrowful goodbye that rings in your ears until your tears drip down your cheeks. 

He pulls back with a grimace when Simon squeezes his shoulder, like separating himself causes him physical pain, and he leaves your tears to be wiped away by your new alphas, though in every other situation, Johnny would’ve licked them off your skin with flagrant reverence. 

“C’mon, Soap, ’s time to go,” Simon announces, giving his Sergeant a firm pat on the shoulder while his eyes never leave you. You peer up at him, head ducked with a hint of shame, tendons flexing in your neck at the tension. 

Eventually, Johnny turns away with a pained snarl, speeding up the process like ripping off a band aid and pulling off scab, muttering profanities under his breath as he storms off towards the plane that will take them back to the UK—while Simon stays back, still staring down at you with those onyx eyes of his, though now they hold a kind of softness to them that leaves your whole system reeling. 

“Lieutenant–” you rasp, and he huffs through his mask, making your jaw snap closed again.  

His gloved hands come up to rest on your shoulders, the skeleton prints spanning wide, thumbs brushing your sensitive scent glands with a tenderness you’ve rarely experienced from him as he leans in to rest his forehead against yours, hardshell mask pinching into your skin. 

“...’s olways been you, pet.” 

Your breath stutters, eyes fluttering as you try to process his words while your fingers tremble to reach out and claw into his tac vest to keep him close—keep his scent near, the one no omega before you has found as enticing as you. 

Too much, too rigid, like ice shards and gasoline fumes jabbing into your lungs with each deep inhale, rather warning off any potential mate than drawing them in. 

It made you feel safe and that’s all that ever mattered to him. 

Simon lets you go with practiced ease, shoves down his feelings even though his alpha is snarling, thrashing and howling behind his mask of indifference, but he cannot contain the sound that tears out of his throat, thank god muffled by the cloth covering his mouth—husky and unpractised like blunt nails scraping over gravel, a puppy learning to communicate—something akin to a whine, a sound you’ve never heard him nor any of them make. 

Your eyes widen, synapsis and instincts firing in your brain, hissing at you to soothe and purr for him, for the alpha you’ve dared to hurt—but then the dirt on the tarmac scrunches under his boots as he turns, leaving his broad back for you to look after while a swooping feeling in your stomach makes you nauseous, and you swallow your pathetic whines, having lost the right to call for them. 

There’s an invisible snap and you swear you can hear it, like a cruciate rupture knocking the breath out of you, loud as a gunshot and nasty, leaving you behind with a limp and quivering lips as you watch them walk away from you, though you can see the slight hobble in their own heavy steps. 

That night, your new alphas make sure to help you—not to forget but distract you from the pain of severing your packbond instead.  

Though, it’s hardly merely the bond that has broken your heart. 

They bring you to their private quarters, invite you into their den, a ranch house on vast land, many klicks away from Las Almas, and give you time until the sun sets, and nightfall cools the temperature to something more bearable, to settle in and sort out some of the internal chaos wreaking havoc and lacing your scent with a bitter smack of sadness. 

It is obvious that you’ve loved them all—all four of them with equal ferocity. You would’ve taken a bullet for each one, you’ve tended to their wounds, the ones you can see and the one you don’t, took care of their emotional needs, made sure your shared nest was always comforting and warm to them—and for what? To be replaced if another, perhaps more beautiful, sweeter, and docile omega comes along to take the place you should have been given freely and with an urgency bordering on alpha possessiveness?  

You have loved them in the dark and it was good—until someone else showed you what the light can truly look like. 

It’s easy and effortless.  

Your instincts are no burden but a relief to them; the fact that you come from the same line of work only fuelling their desire to make you theirs. They’ve shown it with their eyes, in the way their chests puff out as they inhale your scents, two pairs of rough hands itching to grab and grope and keep. 

And just as they do in the field, Alejandro and Rudy work as a team to shed you of your material layers first before peeling away metaphorical ones—until they have stripped you naked of both cloth and invisible barriers, leaving you raw and exposed to them as they devour you whole, slow and methodically.  

Their scents are strong and unapologetically wild, and it doesn’t take long until it seeps into your pores to stay; engulfing you in a comforting blanket of burnt blue agave, leaving a taste of finely aged tequila in the back of your throat, dried cloves, chili and cardamom, reminding you of a homecooked meal waiting for you, and the promising musk of their heady desires, hidden beneath a touch of violent smoke rising from the end of a gun barrel—a barrel now pointed at you. 

“Yes, you should weep for them, querida,” Alejandro murmurs against your temple as he cradles you against his bare chest; all warm skin and chiselled muscles. “Makes it easier to let go and focus on what’s in front of you.” 

The white curtains sweep as a soft breeze sweeps through the spacious bedroom, coming through the open floor-to-ceiling windows; moonlight illuminating the room in semi-darkness as you lounge on the bed. 

Between your legs, Rudy hums in agreement, trailing languid, open-mouthed kisses up your supple legs while you spread for him willingly, giving him more space to explore.  

“Agreed,” he breathes against your dewy skin, feeling your skin pebble with goosebumps under his tongue as he licks a slow stripe over the sensitive scent gland on the inside of your left thigh, so, so close to your glistening sex.  

He groans at your taste and starts rutting against the mattress, grinding his hips slowely, breathing out: “Díos.” 

Your legs quiver and you squirm in Alejandro’s arms, a mere bunny embraced by two wolfs, though perhaps you’ve never felt safer—more wanted—in your life. 

A whimper leaves your lips, perspiration building above your furrowed brows.  

“Are you–” you swallow hard, unsure if it’s too soon to ask. “Will you–” 

Alejandro kisses your temple, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Of course, we will,” he assures you, nose trailing along your hairline, “–just not tonight. It would be too much for you.” 

Before disappointment can settle into your gut like a parasite, like another worry adding to your fragile soul, a petulant pout forming on your lips, Rudy is quick to distract you again by parting your outer folds with deft fingers to expose the little treat resting at the top of your pussy, leaving you hot-faced and gasping. 

“Pinche... es hermosa, Ale,” Rudy mumbles under his breath, thumb stroking over your swollen clit with unfamiliar reverence. “Voy a probar un poco.” 

Your breath hitches while Alejandro smiles against your skull, strong hands roaming over your torso and settling right below the curve of your tits—squeezing and groping your giving flesh lightly as he feels your thumping heartbeat beneath his palms.  

“Mi conejita,” he growls before nipping at your earlobe. “I will fuck you once Rudy has prepared you for my cock, yes? Tell me how much you’d like that, cariño–” 

The term of endearment, so cute and innocent, followed by pure filth, makes your pulse spike and your pussy throb with its own heartbeat—and then Rudy leans in with a shameless groan to slowly lick and suck at your clit, and the world tips upside down like your eyes rolling back into your skull. 

The night progresses in a whirlwind of earth-shattering orgasms and whispered promises—and they manage to keep your mind off the past, giving you but a taste of your new reality. 

Rudy eats your cunt as feverishly as Johnny, though less messy and more precise, like he has all the time in the world to learn and explore—and you realize that he does when his teeth graze over the scent gland of your inner thighs again, scraping the sensitive surface with his teeth and lapping up your essence while Alejandro warns him to slow down, let you breathe.  

The second-in-command finishes on the mattress, his tan skin sweat-slicked and panting, his ruddy cock spurting a massive load into the white sheets—simply from licking at your sex.  

You coo at him when you catch your breath, fingers tugging at his black, fluffy hair to pull him in for a kiss while Alejandro manhandles your legs, pushes them apart and drapes one thigh over his hip as he shifts his weight behind your back for a better angle. 

“That’s it, querida, kiss your man,” Alejandro growls, squeezing the back of your neck while he strokes his own prick from base to tip, exhaling a shaky breath when he coats himself in your succulent slick. 

Rudy’s tongue is tangling with yours and you can taste yourself on his saliva; messy and passionate, you suck on his tongue with a sensual purr, half-lidded eyes drinking in his wrecked, pretty face. 

Alejandro grunts as he lines himself up with your dripping hole, drooling tip dragging through your swollen folds. “Escupir en su boca, hermano,” he orders, voice rumbling with a growl that has you keening, and Rudy is swift to cup your jaw, keeping your mouth open, all too eager to follow his Colone’s orders. 

Your breath comes in sharp pants as you stick your tongue out, a breathy moan spilling out your chest as Alejandro thrusts his fat cockhead past your entrance, sinking in an inch or two only to pull out and repeat, your velvety walls swallowing him up with greed. 

“Joder,” he groans huskily, resting his forehead against the back of your head.  

“Eyes on me, cariño,” Rudy chuckles, giving your jaw a small squeeze. “Feels good, no?” His tawny eyes crinkle at the corners as you nod with your tongue still out, your eyes nearly crossing from pleasure. “Heh, so cute.” 

And then Rudy tips your head back against Alejandro’s broad shoulder, making the other alpha watch with his thick cock now nestled and twitching deep inside of your cunt, as he spits a generous glob of saliva into your mouth. 

“Now swallow,” he croons before dragging his spit-shiny lips down the column of your throat, feeling it bob against his nose as you swallow obediently. 

Alejandro snarls against your shoulder blade, pupils blown with searing lust and possessiveness at the teasing display between you and Rudy, and his hands settle on your hips, keeping you in place on his lap as he begins to thrust his hips up, driving his throbbing cock into your welcoming heat with unbridled need and liquid fire simmering in his veins, spreading like a wildfire as his balls draw up tight. 

So close to your virgin scent gland on your neck, he huffs your sticky skin and bares his teeth while you’re blissfully unaware, making out with Rudy until the latter notices the shift in the other alpha—and he swiftly reaches out to grab a fistful of Alejandro’s sleek raven hair, tugging it back to make their eyes meet. 

“Not tonight, boss. Tu mismo lo dijiste,” he reminds the older alpha pointedly. 

Alejandro growls, then nods. He feels your walls flutter and tighten around his rutting shaft with another impending climax. They share a look, and Rudy tightens his grip with a curt nod—a silent promise to keep the other alpha from sinking his teeth into your mating gland in his ecstasy.  

Not tonight, querida. 

On another continent, now separated not only by distance but a broken packbond, Gaz paces inside the Captain Price’s office, deadly like an agitated jaguar in its too tiny enclosure. 

“This is fuckin’ bullshit, Cap,” he repeats, snarling for the umpteenth time. “Absolute fuckin’ madness!”  

His scent—usually so calm and fresh like mint leaves soaking in spring sunshine and fresh lemonade—has turned the air and atmosphere inside the office sour. 

He stops right in front of Price’s cluttered desk, glaring at his trusted superior with blatant fury in his eyes as he braces his hands on the polished mahogany, leaning forward. 

“How could you agree to this? How could you allow her to stay over there?! To leave our pack?!” 

Behind his desk, John keeps his arms crossed tensely, jaw ticking as he clenches and unclenches it, his tongue dry and thick in his mouth as his mistake dawns on him. 

The seasoned Captain made a decision with your wellbeing as his priority—always his priority—and now it’s biting him in the arse, becoming more of a simple graze like he’d expected. No, he can feel you slipping, can feel the bond severing, and it’s making him anxious, sad. 

Sad. Downright depressed. 

John hasn’t felt anything like this before, but he is still faring better than his Sergeant—who had no clue what was happening until he’d staggered into his office a few moments ago, clutching his chest as if someone had stabbed him with a combat knife, whinging like a pup in distress. 

Bloody hell, he can’t imagine how Soap must be behaving right now—still stuck in a plane somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean; having only Ghost to turn to and soothe him. Fuck. It’s a bloody disaster. 

“Gaz,” John sighs roughly, tries reasoning, “– it's her decision. I couldn’t deny her.” 

“Deny her?” Gaz barks out a humourless laugh. it only agitates the younger alpha more. His eyes widen, his face twists into a dangerous snarl. “Fuck that, Captain!” 

John has never quite seen him lose his composure like this. He rises from his chair with a warning growl, towers over the Sergeant and forcing him into submission, pulling both rank and dominance to ease the tension. 

“That’s enough, Garrick,” he says, finality lacing his sharp tone. “She asked for special leave, nothing more–” 

“We are losing her. Our omega. Our girl,” Gaz interrupts, though his voice has lost some of its burn. His jaw clenches as he grits his teeth, keeping his accusations inside as he regards his Captain with a hint of disappointment and desperation. 

He swallows hard, feeling the bond continuing to dissipate; it feels like sand running through his hands and there is nothing he can do to stop it from leaving him. He knows that Price can feel it, too. 

“I don’t know about you, but I cannot lose her, sir,” Gaz admits, brows furrowing with a distraught whine. “We were planning to make her ours, didn’t we? Or did that fucking plan change, too?” 

There is a tense pause. John’s jaw ticks again and he rubs a hand over his coarse beard, sucking his teeth before he shakes his head slowly. 

“No, son, it hasn’t.” 

[mrs-kmikaelson]

apollo

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x sunshine!reader Summary: Aaron thinks you're just about the most radiant person he's ever met. But then you fly too close to the sun, and all your light disappears. Warnings: grumpy x sunshine turned not sunshine, references to greek myth of icarus and the sun god helios, apollo lore, violence, mentions of reaper arc, heartbreak, complicated relationships, avoidance, unresolved trauma, feelings, hopeful ending Words: 4.8K

Masterlist | icarus (part 1) | helios (part 2)

a/n: this is the end! thank u for all the love! i love this series sm, and i'll prolly end up writing lil blurbs for it (esp at ur request). there's sm feelings in this one. enjoy!

"I need to leave, Y/N."

"Wait— wait, we can talk about this, can't we?" You stepped closer to her, distraught colouring your face. "We can get you help."

She shook her head, a sad smile crossing her face as if she was saying she knew you wouldn't understand. Poor, sweet Y/N, her eyes said. Too good for this world. Too naïve. Too hopeful. What she ended up saying was, "No, Y/N. I can't."

"I— I don't understand." Tears welled up in your eyes. Her words didn't make sense. None of it made sense.

The smile on her face never fell. Only a single tear did, racing down her cheek. It occurred to you then that you'd never seen her cry.

"Oh, Y/N/N." She grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly. "I hope you never have to."

When she let go of your hand, you knew there was nothing more you could say. She was leaving, and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

But, deep down, you knew she'd already been long gone.

"Goodbye, Y/N."

And before you knew it, she was out the door, too far away to hear you whisper back.

"Goodbye, Elle."

When Elle left, you didn't understand it. As the only female profilers, you stuck together like glue. You both came from units where you were at the top of your game, just to be shuffled back down to the bottom, having to learn an entirely new competence.

You didn't get it. The work tore her away. The job took too much away from her, took too much out of her. But that was the job. But what about you?

She could walk away from the job, fine. But why did she walk away from you?

You didn't get it then. Too young. Too naïve. Too hopeful.

But now you were older. You knew too much. The hope had been sucked out of you.

You understood now.

You understood what it meant to not be able to take it anymore, to not be able to face the people you loved while knowing you weren't the same. And you wanted to. You desperately wanted things to go back to the way they were. 

You wanted to go back to Rossi ruffling your hair, cracking jokes about your age but always knowing he took you seriously. You wanted to go back to lunch breaks with Penelope, talking about your nails and boys and feeling like a teenager. You wanted to back to laughing in Emily's apartment, her cat crawling across your lap. You wanted to go back to watching sci-fi movies with Reid, too convoluted to grasp. You wanted to go back to when Derek would tease you instead of treating you like you were made of glass. You wanted to go back to watching JJ's son without her wondering if you were in the state of mind to do it.

And Hotch.

Aaron. 

You wanted to hit rewind to before everything happened, if not just to be at his side again. Before you tried to kiss him and before he pulled away. Before a serial killer decided he was God and your life was his to play with.

But you couldn't, and now you understood Elle better than you ever did. Because no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't be the same sunshine everyone loved. 

You couldn't stay there anymore.

You submitted your resignation. You didn't know what happened next—you never thought further along than the BAU.

But you had to leave.

You understood now.

You wished you didn't.

— 

The words echoed throughout your head on a loop.

Hotch. Accident. Hospital.

The Reaper.

If it hadn't been for Morgan, you would've jumped into that SUV and driven there immediately. But he stopped you, taking away the keys and regarding you with a soft but firm stance. You both knew it wasn't safe for you to drive.

You didn't talk about the reasons why.

Now, you sat to Aaron's left. He was sleeping. He'd never seemed so peaceful.

How ironic it was that he had to be stabbed before he took a break. Even if you knew it wasn't peaceful, not really.

A U.S. Marshal had just come and retrieved Jack and Haley, taking them to an undisclosed location. Their lives were upended. His life was upended.

Your fearless leader, stony and brave. He approached every challenge with determination, like he knew he could beat it. Aaron Hotchner was a man who won battles. But when you walked into that hospital room, for the first time since you met him, he looked afraid.

He looked like he'd already lost.

Your heart squeezed in your chest. It wasn't fair. 

Suddenly, a mumble broke you out of your thoughts. "I can hear you thinking in my sleep."

You looked down, seeing him slowly open his eyes. You fixed him with a smile, even though it didn't feel right on your lips. Be brave, Y/N, your mind chided. He'd be brave for you. "Really? I can hear you thinking in your sleep."

His face remained blank, unfazed by your attempt to change the subject. He did that often—calling you out. Never maliciously, always with the greater good at heart. But he knew you. Sometimes, it felt like he knew you too well.

You wondered, did you know him as well as he knew you? 

You liked to think so.

Like usual, you crumbled under his gaze, looking away. If you kept looking at him, nothing would stop the onslaught of tears from making their way down your face, and you wouldn't do that to him. You wouldn't cry; it wasn't your right to. You weren't his wife. 

But you were something. Enough of something to feel the need to cry, anyway.

A shaky exhale left your lips. "Why do bad things always happen to good people?"

The room was silent after your question, the only sounds being his heart monitor and the shuffling of the hospital outside. The beeping felt like a taunt, a reminder that Aaron's life hung in the balance, that he could've died.

It made you realize that you weren't specific enough. What you really meant was, why did bad things always happen to him?

Aaron Hotchner. The leader. The father. A good man. The best man you'd ever met.

The man you'd fallen in love with.

When he responded, you could hear the despair in his voice, like he had the same questions.

But for once, he didn't have the answers.

"I don't know."

—

You didn't have to knock on Aaron's door long before he was opening it, having expected you. You grinned, holding up the brown bags in your hands. "I come bearing gifts. Chinese."

"You're a godsend," he praised, undoing his house alarm. You had helped him install it when he got out of the hospital, no questions asked. 

While he did that, you placed the food on the table, going to grab some plates and drinks. This was the rhythm you'd settled into, a routine. You came over every other night under the guise of updating him with your cases, but really, it was a lot more than that for you.

You hoped it was for him, too.

You always brought food. Sometimes, he even cooked (it was edible). It was your way of making sure he ate.

You never talked about what happened. He never talked about Haley or Jack, even though you knew they were the only thing on his mind. You talked about work, and the weather, and what movies you were gonna be watching after dinner, but never anything that mattered.

You didn't need to. This, being here, mattered. You didn't need anything more than that.

You just wanted him to know he wasn't alone. No matter what happened, you'd always be there for him. This was your way of showing that.

After watching a movie you didn't pay much attention to, you stood at the door, shrugging on your coat. You were just about to leave when his hand enveloped your wrist, making you turn around.

Curiously, you stared up at him. "Hotch?" Your voice was soft, the kind of soft that came with fragile things. Fragile. Delicate. Valuable.

Aaron opened his mouth and then closed it again, looking like he knew exactly what he wanted to say without knowing how to say it. He could command a room with quiet confidence, negotiate with the most unstable unsubs and power-hungry police chiefs, and give a profile like no one you'd ever met. But when it came to his own emotions, he was at a loss for words.

You weren't used to seeing that. There was something about it. You didn't like watching him struggle, but some part of you was satisfied that you could make him pause. It made you think that, maybe, he thought about you the same way you thought about him.

Just maybe.

When he seemed to collect his thoughts, he spoke. "Thank you." He didn't take his eyes off you, making sure you knew how earnest he was.

Your breath got caught in your throat. The weight of his gaze told you everything else he wasn't saying. How this wasn't just a thank you for the food or the DVD. This was a thank you for everything.

But, in your eyes, he had nothing to thank you for.

So you smiled and said, "Don't mention it."

And you hoped he knew how earnest you were, too.

—

You awoke to loud pounding on your door.  You remained motionless, hoping the person would get bored and go away, but the knocking persisted.

Glancing at your alarm clock, you groaned. It was far too early for anyone to be visiting you. Today, any time would be too early. But the knocking only continued, so with another groan, you rolled out of bed, throwing on a sweater in a hassle as you yelled, "I'm coming!"

You muttered curses to yourself all the way to the door, hastily unlocking it. When you finally threw it open, you were ready to give someone a piece of your mind, only to bet met with who you were least expecting.

Your mouth fell open slightly, all your curses dying on your tongue. And like you'd been doused in water, you suddenly felt wide awake.

On the other side of the threshold, Derek Morgan gave you a soft smile, his expression light while his eyes carried all the heavy things you thought you left at the BAU.

Now, all those things were at your doorstep.

"Hi, princess." He paused. "We have to talk."

— 

You would've thought that, after all your time in the BAU, you would've gotten used to hospitals.

Apparently not.

As your eyelids fluttered open, you were disoriented, instantly closing them again at the sheer bright lights. The sound of feet shuffling came to your ears, followed by a flicking sound.

When you opened your eyes again, the lights were off, and Derek Morgan stood in front of you. He gave you his classic smile, but for some reason, it looked a little tighter than usual, a little bit harder to conceive.

What had happened? Why did he look so sad? Was he okay?

"D-Derek?" you croaked, interrupted by a cough.

Quick on his feet, he was soon passing you a glass of water, guiding the straw into your mouth. "Easy there, easy. There you go." He was tending to you like you were a sick child. You weren't sick. You weren't a child.

What happened? Why was he taking care of you? Why did you need to be taken care of?

When he removed the straw from your mouth, you repeated your question. "Derek, what's wrong?"

He looked like he didn't want to answer you. Instead, he countered, "Y/N, do you remember what happened?"

As if his question singlehandedly opened pandora's box, pain suddenly radiated from your lower body, aching all over. 

Your brain caught up with your body, and then the pain intensified.

You shakily exhaled. "Yes."

Derek exhaled, too, but his looked more like relief than anything. Relief that he wouldn't have to explain this to you. Relief that he wouldn't have to say the words out loud. 

"You were in surgery for a while," he said. "Yesterday night. The doctors say you'll make a speedy recovery."

You didn't respond.

"Garcia's still flying in. She won't believe anything I say until she sees it with her own eyes," he lightly chuckled. But his tone was heavy. No jokes could erase that. "The others'll be on their way back when they wake up. I told 'em you were in good hands."

You wanted to laugh. You tried. The only thing that left your mouth was a sob.

Derek was immediately at your side, cradling your head into his chest, letting your tears soak his shirt and not saying a single word about any of it. You wanted that to make it feel better, but you just felt empty.

Like there were holes in your body.

—

You sat on your couch, wrapped in a warm blanket as Derek rummaged through your cupboards, looking for something to give that was fit for human consumption. You would've been a good host and offered him tea, but he already had a pot on the stove.

He said you looked like you hadn't eaten. You didn't deny it.

"Everything in your fridge is expired, so I ordered us some breakfast from that place downtown," he informed you, setting down two mugs of tea on the coffee table and taking a seat in the armchair across from you. 

You watched the steam twirl into the air, nodding blankly.

Derek sighed. "Kid, I'm worried about you."

You sighed back in response. "I'm fine." The words came out harsher than intended.

Derek's eyes softened. "You quit your job, Y/N. You love the BAU."

Love. Loved. You shook your head, lightly scoffing through your nose. For the first time in a while, you were honest. "I love the BAU when it isn't taking everything away from me." You could count the things this job had taken from you on two hands too many, turning your reflection into a stranger.

It made you wonder what you'd do without it.

Derek's eyes didn't meet yours, looking down at the floor instead. The room went quiet. You could hear the cars outside, the rest of the world moving on while you stayed right where you were, stagnant.

Right now, you were in your apartment. Your feet were touching your hardwood floor. Your fingers played with a loose string on your blanket. Derek sat across from you. Your body was here.

But in reality, your mind was stuck in that house. Stuck walking into a trap with Morgan right behind you.

"I'm sorry."

At his sudden words, you looked up. His eyes locked with yours. You didn't know how long it'd been that you'd sat in silence, but you certainly didn't expect it to be broken with those words.

You furrowed your brows. "What?"

Despite the long period of quietness that came before, he didn't stay quiet now. He didn't even look like he had to think about what he was saying—almost like he'd thought it all a thousand times before. "Y/N, I'm sorry that you're in pain. And if I could switch places with you, I would— in a heartbeat." He leaned forward in his chair. "There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about what happened. About how I left you alone." His voice tightened up. "But Y/N, I swear to you, if you come back to the BAU, I won't ever leave you alone like that again."

Strong conviction laced his voice, like he was under oath. For a moment, you were confused by what he was saying. He never left you alone— oh.

Oh.

Tears welled up in your eyes. "Derek—" your voice cracked. Oh, you felt terrible. So, so terrible.

How long had one of your best friends blamed himself for something he had no control over? How long had this slipped past you?

You were supposed to be one of the best profilers in the nation.

But right now, you just felt terrible. 

"Derek, I never blamed you." A tear slid down your cheek against your wishes. "This isn't your fault. It never was."

Your vision was so blurry that you didn't see him crying, but you did see him wipe at his eyes. That made you get up, and he met you in the middle, wrapping his arms around you and engulfing you in his embrace.

In his arms, you cried freely, just like that morning in the hospital. You cried for all the things you pretended not to cry about. For all the things you lost. The things you didn't see. The person you were. The person you could've been.

"I'll never leave you alone again, you hear me, kid?" Derek hugged you tighter through his muffled words, making sure you didn't just hear them but that you felt them. "We're family."

Family.

You hugged him back just as tight. If you lost everything, you still had that. You might have lost yourself, but your family was right there, shining a light in the darkness, looking for you.

You prayed they'd find you.

— 

When Morgan left, it was dark out. He only left after a lot of crying and even more food, but you felt different. Reminded of what you still had.

You weren't okay. Nothing was okay. But you wanted to things to be able to get better. You didn't just want to give up and walk away from it everything. You built a life at the BAU with people you loved. Maybe there was one person you even loved too much.

God, he hurt you. He hurt you in irreversible ways, leaving you out in the cold multiple times, begging for him to see you just for him to turn away. 

And you knew he cared about you. No one acted the way he did without caring. Sometimes, you thought Aaron Hotchner cared too much, masking it behind a wall of indifference. 

Before all this happened, you were allowed behind the wall. He showed you the man he hid from others. You fell in love with that man. You missed him.

You just wanted to go back to those versions of yourself. The Y/N who would make a stupid joke late at night and the Aaron who would be too tired to pretend not to smile.

But Hotch wanted to talk about it. Aaron did, too, but it was mostly Hotch. A different version of him that was too concerned, too focused on drilling the truth out of you.

Could you give it to him? There was a time when you would've given him anything; all he had to do was ask. Now, you weren't so sure. There were certain parts of yourself you couldn't just hand out, certain things you wanted to keep for you and you alone.

You had already given up so much. You already gave your heart to Aaron Hotchner once, and he discarded it. Who was to say this time would be any different?

No. You couldn't give him everything.

But you'd give him something.

—

You found the route to Hotch's apartment the same way you did time and time before, like a dance you still knew the steps to. You knew when to turn right and when to turn left, when to keep going straight and when to stop. Nothing about this was unfamiliar.

Aaron Hotchner was once the most familiar person you'd ever known.

But you knew things were different.

Even though the elevator up to his floor hadn't changed and he still had the same mat outside his door, you knew that you weren't the same. You had changed. You weren't familiar anymore.

And so, when he opened the door and his brows raised up to his hairline, you understood the surprise. You didn't just do this—you didn't just show up at his apartment unannounced, not anymore.

His lips parted. You weren't sure if he was going to speak or if he was just in shock. You spoke first regardless.

"I, um," you wrung your hands together, "I don't have food this time." A nervous smile lit up your face, no less nervous than your first time in his office. Maybe more nervous this time. Maybe you hid it better back then.

And maybe he could hide his emotions better back then, too. The shock on his face didn't clear until after you had spoken. He blinked, then opened his door wider. "Please."

A small thank you left your lips as you walked in, crossing the threshold into a world you knew you wouldn't be able to leave again.

The apartment looked like it hadn't changed at all. The only thing that caught your eye were the toys splayed out on the living room floor.

Your heart spiked, but as if Hotch could read your mind, he said, "Jack is asleep."

Glad you weren't interrupting anything, the tension in your shoulders was released. You wondered if that's what he saw: visual cues that indicated your mental state. Was it mind reading or behaviour?

Was he a profiler, or did he just know you as well as you both thought he did?

You couldn't really tell anymore.

"Would you like something to drink?" he queried.

"No, I uh..." this was small talk. You weren't here for this; you didn't even know what you were here for, but it was for more than this.

Whatever you were here for, you had to figure it out before you lost your nerve.

You turned around, finding him right behind you. You inhaled a sharp breath. The last time he was this close to you— 

"You hurt me, Hotch." The words tumbled out of your mouth before you even had the time to filter them. You watched his face fall. You continued, anyway. "You hurt me when you left me alone that night. And I— I can't fault you for rejection. But you left me all over again when I— when I needed you."

"Y/N." He took a step closer.

You took a step back.

"I needed you. I really, really needed you." Tears built in your eyes. "But you weren't there." You wiped away the tears in your eyes before they could fall, refusing to cry. "And then you have me go on the record to talk about the most horrible experience of my life, and suspend me when you don't get what you want. Like I'm just some rookie agent."

Unlike the previous conversations you'd had, Aaron didn't say anything to his defense. He stood there, unmoving, letting you say what you needed to say. You were equal parts grateful and equal parts angry. Exasperated.

You wanted him to say something. You wanted to know if it was really all in your head, if it really happened or if you imagined it. "Is that—" you faltered, "is that all I am to you, Hotch? Just an agent? Did I ever—" you swallowed, "did I ever mean anything to you?"

"Yes." His response was rapid, his eyes narrowing as if he was insulted by the question. As if he was shocked you could ever think otherwise. He took a step closer to you, and this time, you didn't step back. "If I have ever made you feel like you are 'just an agent,' then I sincerely apologize." He paused, his eyes boring into yours. "Y/N, you are one of the most qualified and accomplished agents I have ever met, let alone had the pleasure of working with. And I can say with absolute certainty that you are one of the best people I have ever known. You are beautiful, inside and out, and full of so much light that you have brightened every room you've walked into." His words reverberated through the quiet room, soaking into your bones and into every fibre of your being. "So, if I've pressured you since your return, it is because I am worried."

Your breath hitched as he took another step closer. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry for leaving you alone that night and every other night afterward. I was—" he took a breath, looking down briefly. When his eyes met yours again, they were just as honest. Brave. Afraid. "I was terrified I'd lose you. That I would ruin what we had. And then I was scared for what happened to you. Too afraid to look you in the eye after I made a decision that almost cost you your life. By the time you got back to the BAU, my fear wasn't just losing you physically. It was losing you. Your heart. Your spirit. All the things I love about you."

Your heart might've stopped then and there. After a few seconds, you echoed, "Love?"

Aaron didn't back down or retract what he said. He nodded, like he was confirming it you and to himself. "Yes."

There were words he wasn't saying; you understood that. There were words you weren't saying, either.

But you knew what it meant for things to go unsaid. People blamed themselves. People crumbled. They said things they didn't mean to compensate for what they weren't saying. They were crushed under the weight of it all.

You didn't want that to happen anymore.

You took a step back, not because you were stepping away from the conversation, but because you were stepping into it. You nodded toward the couch. "Let's have that talk."

Aaron's eyes flooded with relief. You both made your way to his couch and sat down.

And then you talked until the sun came up.

— 

Your talk with Aaron wasn't easy. And despite your best promises to yourself, you still ended up crying, anyway. 

You weren't naïve. That may have been the first conversation you had, but it wouldn't be the last. There was still so much you had to talk about, so much you had to work through, but you had the time to do it.

Your suspension was lifted, but you didn't return to the BAU. At least, not right away. You decided not to throw yourself back into it, to let yourself find your footing first and process everything you tried to shove down.

Every member of the team supported you, and you knew there was a spot waiting for you when you were ready. Garcia had reassured you there were issues with your resignation, anyway (which you knew was undoubtedly her doing). You thanked her for her troubles.

She visited you often while you were home alone, updating you on the team's shenanigans. And Rossi visited you with enough food to feed a shelter, rendering it pointless to go grocery shopping at all. You accused him of spoiling you. He retorted that he could cook for the whole team if he wanted to.

And that's how you ended up where you were, underneath the fairy lights in his backyard as Reid summarized Greek mythology to you.

Gesturing his hands in the air, he explained, "No, actually— although thought to be, Apollo is not the sun god. Helios is. Helios is meant to be a personification of the sun—the sun in human form. But Apollo is god of the sun—an important distinction in categorization. He's not the sun, but he's not supposed to be. He just has sunlike features, and— I'm sorry. I'm rambling, aren't I?"

He looked sheepish, but you were leaning forward in your seat. "No, not at all." You gave him a reassuring smile. "Please, keep going."

Spencer's eyes lit up, and he went on, "Well, Apollo has many more characteristics that make him an interesting god to look at it, like his love of truth, music, poetry, healing, and..."

As he continued, you couldn't help but connect what he was talking about to yourself.

He's not the sun.

But he's not supposed to be.

Inadvertently, you realized what you'd been trying to learn for so long. The answer was right in front of you the whole time, but now, you finally understood it.

You kept trying to be this person that didn't exist. The sun. A work of fiction. But you couldn't be that. The sun wasn't up all the time. It wasn't always bright. It was impossible to be light at every waking moment. The light didn't define Apollo, and it didn't define you.

No, you realized. You weren't the sun.

You were so much more than that.

taglist: @ithinkitzleslie @burrithorr @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @bunchofcells-blog @hotchspearl @famouslywaiting @lailamares @avis-writeshq @zoeyredbird1 @dyslexicreader64 @lolagaming23 @thomasshelbyswife @spct0r @qualitygiantshoepsychic @duruxoxo @idontlikesleeping

[fairy-writes]

can I request for Soshiro and Gen fanfic (separate) on the female reader who's a healer that is clearly active on the battlefield and when the kaiju noticed this they started to target her to prevent healing her allies?

Also, can I add about the reader's attitude? Her persona has a cold/quiet and stoic personality o⁠(⁠(⁠*⁠^⁠▽⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠)⁠o

DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8

Pairing(s): Narumi Gen x Reader

Hoshina Soshiro x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Defense Force!Reader, Doctor!Reader

Notes: I am doing my new HC style because there are multiple characters requested :)

This entails a few HCs and then a small blurb!

Also, Reader’s personality ended up a bit more self-deprecating than expected in Hoshina’s…

I ALSO REFUSE TO PUT GIFS OF NARUMI. I WILL BURN HIS ANIME DESIGN WITH FIRE

__________________________________________________________________________

Narumi Gen

At first, you didn’t notice. 

You were too busy applying a tourniquet to the leg of a fallen Defense Officer when the Yoju began to attack.

Luckily, the officer you were treating still had working arms and shot it down. 

But they only kept coming.

Soon, you were overwhelmed and had to retreat. 

You grab the straps of your fallen comrade and drag them under some rubble that’s standing precariously. 

It might fall on you, but it was better than nothing for the time being. 

You press your fingers to the communication earpiece nestled in your ear. 

“I need immediate evac in Sector Zulu now! The Yoju are mobilizing and targeting the medics!” You holler as another medic is swallowed whole by one of the bigger Yoju.

Was this the work of that one kaiju? Kaiju No. 9? 

You had no clue. But you couldn’t dwell on it right now. You had to survive. 

Gen is furious by the time he gets to the hospital. He pushes past nurses and doctors and patients until he makes it to the front desk and barks out your name to a startled receptionist. He was a sight for sore eyes, still in his combat uniform, covered in kaiju blood, and still hauling around his weapon. 

“She’s in the Intensive Care Unit. Hold on—Wait!” She calls as soon as he leaves, but he pays her no mind. 

He knew where you were now. He could find the specific room number when he got there. 

Only he didn’t need a room number because you met him in the hallways as soon as he pushed through the double doors.

“Gen?” You look confused, your right arm bandaged and in a sling, and a swath of bandages wrapped around your head. 

“What were you thinking?!” He snaps, and you scowl at that. 

“The Yoju attacked me. Not the other way around, dumbass.” You snap back, and he glares, but on the inside, he’s relieved. 

“Why are you up and moving anyway? You should be resting.” He says, taking your good arm and steering you to a stray gurney stored in the hallway. You shrug off his arm. 

“And leave my patients without care? No way. I’m fine.” You reply and try to get up, but all but fall over when he pushes you gently. 

“Clearly not.” He says and sets his bayonet to the side, propping it up against the wall and taking a seat next to you.

“What’s the diagnosis?” Gen asks eventually, and you wiggle the fingers in your cast. 

“Broken wrist in three places. A pretty nasty concussion. A couple of cracked ribs. Apparently, my heart stopped after our shelter collapsed.” You say coldly, matter-of-factly, as if it was a walk in the park and not the fact that you died. 

Gen remembered hearing in the com piece that your heart stopped. He remembered the officer you were attending to saying he was starting chest compressions after not finding a pulse. He remembered feeling his own heart had stopped when the officer claimed chest compressions weren’t working. 

Luckily, you were wearing one of your newly designed suits—the kind with remote-activated defibrillators in the chest area. It had to be activated three times before you began breathing again and your heart started again. 

But you were okay.

You were okay. You were alive. And that’s all Gen could ask for

Hoshina Soshiro

“WE NEED EVAC IMMEDIATELY! REPEAT WE NEED EVAC IMMEDIATELY! WE HAVE WOUNDED AND THE YOJU ARE TARGETING THE MEDICS!” You bellow into the receiver as you dodge under a swipe of the Yoju before you.

You stand and sprint, trying to lure the Yoju away from your wounded comrades. 

Better you die than them.

Your com crackles in your ear, and you hear your lover's voice calling your name in a calm panic. 

“Where are you?” Hoshina Soshiro demands as you heave and pant. Your suit is dangerously close to overheating, with you using the suit’s strength to help your fellow officers. 

“Sector Juliette heading northbound on 12th Street.” You wheeze and shriek as a blow crashes into your back, sending you flying into some shattered concrete. 

Your shoulder is dislocated. Your ribs are broken. It feels like your nose might be as well. 

“Hold out a little longer, my love. I’m almost there!” He pleads, and you turn on your back to see the Yoju looming over you. 

“I’m sorry, Soshiro…” You murmur. 

Oh well…

Better you die than them.

Just as you close your eyes, you hear the draw of a katana from its sheath. 

When you wake up, you feel someone’s hand holding your own. 

You turn—with some difficulty with the brace around your neck—to see Soshiro holding your hand in one hand, typing out a report on his phone with the other. 

“Soshi?” You rasp, and he looks up, an unreadable look on his face. 

“You’re awake.” He says, and you nod, wincing at the ache in your neck. He leans forward, still not letting go of your hand. “Careful, you got some nasty whiplash.” He says, and you wheeze out a laugh.

“I’m not surprised. I took a bad hit.” You say, and he scoffs. 

“I saw.” He replies and goes back to his report. 

It doesn’t take long after that for you to speak. 

“You’re mad at me.” Soshiro shakes his head at that, thumb pausing from where he was typing on the screen. Likely updating Captain Ashiro on your condition.

“I’m not mad. Just upset. You gave up.” He says, and you sigh, leaning back against your pillows. Luckily, your bed is propped up, so you don’t have to adjust it. 

“I have a duty to protect my comrades.” Soshiro grits his teeth. 

“That doesn’t mean you have to die to protect them. You’re a talented doctor; don’t waste that life of yours.” He pleads, opening his eyes to look at you desperately. 

The doctor comes in then, checks you over, and gives you your diagnosis. Whiplash—hence the neck brace—three broken ribs, a dislocated left arm, and a torn rotator cuff. 

“Do you have help at home? Given your skills, I assume you know how to take care of yourself, but it doesn’t hurt to have an extra set of hands.” The doctor says. You are about to shake your head when your lover pipes up.

“I’ll be helping.” He says firmly, leaving no room for you to argue. The doctor accepts this readily and nods, leaving the room with promises to return with discharge paperwork. 

“You don’t have to take care of me.” You say as soon as the door shuts, and Soshiro raises an eyebrow. 

“I’ll take care of you.” He repeats, and you hiss out a laugh.

“It’s rotten work.” At that, his grip tightens. 

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

[heavyhitterheaux]

Mortgage Payments

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: You have spent way too much time on TikTok and want to do the latest trend with your husband when you tell him that the mortgage won't be paid on your mansion this month

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a beautiful anon 😍

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Sitting down on the couch in the living room you turned on Netflix as you patiently waited for your husband to return from practice to once again do a little prank on him. The latest thing that you had seen on TikTok was wives pranking their husbands and saying that they couldn’t afford to pay the mortgage for the current month while the husbands look confused since they are the ones who pay for it.

And you thought that this one might be the best yet.

Joe never let you lift a finger no matter how much you might protest about it.

More often than not, you’ll wake up to see him gone with a note being left on the bedside table for you about him setting up nail appointments, hair appointments, spa days and etc. and telling you the location and the time that you need to be there.

That was one thing that you never took for granted and always told him how appreciative you were.

You already had your phone set up to record the entire interaction between the both of you as soon as he walked through the door and it was at that moment that you heard the key enter the lock and turn.

Once he fully stepped into the house and locked the door behind him, he called out for you.

“Princess?”

“I'm in here babe.” You responded as he followed the sound of your voice.

Once his eyes landed on you, he smiled and leaned down to give you several kisses before sitting next to you.

“I didn't get to see my favorite person all day. I missed you.”

“I definitely missed you more, it’s not my fault you woke up at the ass crack of dawn.” You replied as he pulled you onto his lap.

“I doubt it and trust me if I could stay laying in bed next to you, I would.”

“You are literally obsessed with me.” You said while teasing him and all he did was smirk.

“If a man is not obsessed with his wife then something is wrong.” He explained as he leaned over to kiss your forehead.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments when you decided to break it.

“I have to tell you something, but you have to promise to not get mad.” You said as you took his hand in yours. Joe was now confused since you had an upset look on your face.

“What is it? What's that look for? Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

“Um, I spent too much money when I went shopping and I can't pay the mortgage this month.” You quietly said and Joe instantly had a look of confusion on his face.

“Wait, what? Baby, what are you talking about?”

“I don't have enough money to pay the mortgage this particular month and it's your birthday month and Christmas is coming. You aren't mad, right?”

“You don't pay the mortgage any month…. Let's start there.”

“I just spent too much when I had gone out. If I hadn’t done that then I would have it.”

“But…. You never do because that's not your responsibility. It's mine. You have literally never paid for it. I'm not sure you even know how to do it.” Joe questioned it as he was not thinking out loud.

“I just feel so bad. Do you still love me?” You asked and Joe got an annoyed look on his face.

“Don’t ask me dumb questions. Do I still love you? seriously? And feel bad about what? I am literally so confused. You know that I take care of you and there is literally nothing on this earth you can ask me for and I will tell you no. Well, within reason. When you asked for an elephant, I had to shut that down IMMEDIATELY.”

“But they're my favorite animal! You can get me a small one!” You pleaded as Joe shook his head at you.

“I… baby stay on topic. And no. You do realize that a small one turns into a big one?”

“Are they going to kick us out? We can move in with Ja’Marr. He won't mind. I can call him right now. Gives me an excuse to use all of his expensive skin products like he used to do to me.” You asked, completely ignoring his question.

“Kick us out of where?! Baby, I literally paid for it already this month. Now, did you want another house? Is that the mortgage you're referring to? We can start looking this weekend if you want.”

“Well no. But I can't pay the car note either.”

“I… I literally paid for your car in full so what in the world are you talking about!? You literally don't have a car note. I take care of you including all of the bills in this house. You do not ever have to worry about paying a mortgage or anything for that matter. You know what you're responsible for?”

“What?”

“Going upstairs and making sure every piece of clothing you're wearing right now ends up on the floor.”

“BABY!”

“Getting bent over the kitchen counter.” He replied as he kissed you.

“Oh my gosh…”

“All day, all night, missionary, cowgirl, reverse, doggy, backwards, forwards, sideways...” Three more kisses.

“Um, I get it, you can stop now.”

“Upside down, in the bed, on the floor, on the couch, on a chair, against the wall, against the full-length window, against the door, in the shower…” Now his hands started to sneak under your shirt as you were desperately trying to pull it back down and making faces at the camera.

“Are you seriously still going?!” You asked in disbelief as you started to laugh at him because at this point in time he had to be dead serious.

“Until your legs give out and the neighbors know my name. That's what you're responsible for. Do I make myself clear?” He asked you giving you one more series of kisses and you simply nodded as you lightly bit down on your lip.

“Good, glad we had this talk.”

“Who knew a TikTok prank would get me hot and bothered like this?” You muttered and Joe did a double take as he looked at you.

“Wait…. Did you record that?!”

“Mm hmm. I got everything your nasty ass said on camera.”

“I don't remember hearing any complaints from you when I'm knee deep in your guts either.”

“Babe! The camera is still on!”

“And I do not give one flying fuck. Turn the camera off and do what I told you. Lose these clothes. Now.” Joe said as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

[pepsiboyy]

AFTERCARE.

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: a blurb on chris taking care of you after intimacy <3 warnings: use of y/n lol, established relationship, cursing, suggestive content, fluff!! a/n: just wanted to write something cute, still growing the courage to post smut so bear with me <3 love you guys thank you for the amazing support so far on my acc!!!

inhale, exhale.

inhale, exhale.

chris's hand gently grazed your temple, down to your cheek, to your jaw, and further down to your chin as he gently ran a thumb against your lips.

all you could do was crack open your eyes to look at your boyfriend and take in his appearance.

the way his hair was flowing in each and every direction. the way his forehead and face were slightly damp. the way his chest rose and fell with each breath that he took. the way his eyes were a deeper shade of blue as they remained on you, admiring you and every part of you.

you two sat in silence as you smiled at one another, before chris leaned in to close the gap between you both.

the kiss was soft. warm. loving. chris's bangs tickled the bridge of your nose, causing you to smile against his lips, which chris only reciprocated.

after a few moments of staying there, chris carefully pulled away and sat up, a hand gently carding through your hair. "let me get you a towel."

and with that, chris quickly stood to his feet. with the slight struggle of sliding on a pair of boxers and a teasing giggle from you, chris made his way to the nearest restroom to your bedroom.

while waiting, you stared at your ceiling and bit your lip.

how did you get so lucky?

chris was an amazing boyfriend. someone who always prioritized your wants and needs over anything, your feelings and what you felt was more important to him than anything. he fucking loves you. more than anything.

"is this one okay to use?"

you turned your head towards the voice, seeing chris holding a gray towel in the doorway. you smiled softly and nodded as you carefully sat up, to which chris immediately rushed over and put his hands on your shoulders. "nuh uh, lay down. you're staying here." he smiled, and you felt your face heat up.

"i'm not helpless, chris-"

"can you let me take care of you at least? let me have my moment," he defended, and you couldn't argue with that.

chris used the towel he retrieved to gently run against your skin, making sure to catch every spot before he sent the towel flying into your laundry bin. his arms shot up in the air in celebration, his jaw dropping as he turned to you. "see that!?"

you smiled and nodded, gently taking chris's shoulder in your hand. you pulled him towards you, pressing your lips to his softly.

with this, chris felt his own cheeks heats up, but nonetheless smiled against your lips and kissed you back.

he pulled away and carefully placed himself beside you in your bed, his arms open.

your arms moved to gently wrap around his waist, your head resting between his shoulder and jaw, nose tucked into the crook of his neck as you took in his scent.

chris's fingers found a home tucked into the strands of your hair, gently brushing through them and occasionally massaging your scalp.

your eyes closed as you hummed softly, your fingers drawing shapeless figures into the skin of his hip and occasionally his side.

"get some sleep, gorgeous." chris whispered softly, his voice a bit groggy. you took this as he was also about to drift into his own slumber.

"i love you, christopher."

a soft chuckle left him as he stopped his movements to wrap his arms around you, encapsulating you in his grasp as he took in a deep breath and smiled brightly.

"i love you more, y/n."

[redr0sewrites]

Red and Green Flags of Some of the Hazbin Hotel Cast

the title says it all! i'm just blurbing about some red/green flags they have when ur dating them :)

🥀Cw: nsfw mentions but nothing explicit, mostly crack and fluff and maybe the slightest angst when it comes to red flags

🥀Pairing(s): Adam x reader, Alastor x reader, Vox x reader

Adam

Green flags

INSANELY loyal. this man was cheated on twice and left for the same guy. if he's in a serious relationship with you i genuinely can not see him cheating bc this man is genuinely so devoted to you and only you. he's had his fair share of hookups but very very very rarely commits to a serious relationship, which means if he does, you're not only very special but he genuinely thinks you're "the one". when it comes to these serious actual relationships (not just hookups or situationships) he's very very loyal and would never think of cheating on you. he also dates to marry when it comes to serious relationships and will genuinely try to make the relationship last. this also means you get to see a side of him that most people don't get to, and he's generally very soft with you. he treats you so much better than everyone else and expects everyone else around you to do the same

adam is very supportive of you- he definitely gives off "THATS MY PARTNER‼️" vibes. while he likes to think he's in charge, if you change your tone towards him he immediately agrees with you like a hurt puppy. if you have any important decisions you want to make he's much more likely to compromise or agree with you than if anyone else was suggesting an idea. adam can be irritating, but when it comes to you, he's absolutely wrapped around your finger. your also the only person who can make him knock it off when he's patronizing someone and you're also the only reason sera has not attempted to strangle him because you've been keeping him in check since you both started dating

adam always has your back and is on your side no matter what. there is no devil's advocate for him, if his partner is in a fight with someone he's automatically on their side. adam is absolutely the type to tell someone off for shit talking you and is also the type to tell you if someone was being rude to you behind your back. he's also not the kind of guy to shit talk you behind your back and gets pissed at guys who complain about their wives and stuff like that. if he has an issue he tells you to your face and doesn't believe in hiding anything in your relationship.

Red Flags

adam is very insecure about his masculinity even if he doesn't want to admit it and this can be problematic in your relationship. he puts on a lot of appearances around others and acts much more confident when he is, and sometimes his fake persona can piss you off a bit because he genuinely treats you so differently in private versus in public. he also very rarely takes off his mask around you, especially early on into the relationship. in reality it's because he's insecure about how he looks, but he'd never actually admit that (at least early on) so you're stuck in a loop of asking him to take off the mask, him making up some bullshit lie about how he can't, you getting pissed at him and the mask, and him getting more insecure bc he thinks you don't like him anymore. eventually it ends with a conversation about how u love him regardless of what he looks like, but it takes time to get there that might be irritating for you

he is INCREDIBLY clingy, and also huge on PDA- but like even if its not the most appropriate time, he's pulling you onto his lap or slapping your ass or something like that. he also will make a lot of lewd and inappropriate jokes in public- we know he's childish and he is the embodiment of middle school boy humor. you guys could be out in public just trying to have a cute date but he always ruins the moment by making it sexual or making a shitty joke. adam is also very unaware of his surroundings and horrible at reading people so you could be extremely uncomfortable and he just... wouldn't notice unless you told him so. adam isn't great at expressing intimacy nonsexually (he was quite literally created for the sole purpose of populating earth, and a part of him still lowkey thinks he's only good for sex ☹️) so he ends up accidentally turning non-sexual moments sexual. he isn't trying to annoy you, but it can seem insensitive.

pisses you off on purpose. adam does care about you and your feelings but he also can be childish. he'll see that your pissed off and will make a joke only for you to get even more angry at him, but he'll get super defensive even if he was in the wrong saying he was just trying to make you laugh. he will feel very bad afterwards tho, especially if you cry or get really upset because, as i said before, he isn't great at expressing himself and genuinely doesn't mean to hurt you sometimes

Alastor

Green Flags

very respectful of your boundaries. relationships are new to him after all, and he isn't the most expressive lover, so alastor knows that dating him can be tough. he never pushes you too hard or forces himself on you, and he takes your opinion into consideration a lot when it comes to decisions or dealing with life in general. he always asks before taking your hand or kissing you, and he initiates most of the courting process, not wanting to put too much pressure on you. when you first caught feelings for him you were genuinely so scared that he wouldn't even want to be friends with you anymore, but once you found out he reciprocated your feelings, at least in his own way, you were elated. this lead to him being the one to initiate most dates and things like that, at least early on, so that he could show you he was serious about treating you well. you definitely recieve top tier princess treatment (regardless of gender)

protective, but not in a limiting way. if you're dating alastor, then you have to have been friends for at least a while before officially getting together, and he also has to trust you a lot. alastor always wants you to be safe, he knows how cruel hell can be, and he knows that others can use you to hurt him. however, he also trusts you and your strength, and he tries to keep a decent balance of protecting you but also letting you make decisions for yourself. you both definitely have conversations about him sending his shadow to watch over you when your away, and he prefers to have you by his side more than anything else

alastor is very emotionally intelligent and is great at reading people. this skill comes to use a lot and you both very rarely argue over anything because he's very quick to notice when something is bothering you. he's also great at communication, and isn't afraid to sit down and have a conversation with you about how you feel about him and how he feels about you. when it comes to your relationship he wants to make sure you both are on the same page, and yall are the type of couple to have monthly check-ins where you sit doen and just talk about what you're feeling. this leads to a lot of open conversations with alastor, and overtime it made your trust for him grow. he would never tell anyone anything confidential about you, and he genuinely views you as his equal.

Red Flags

alastor does not like change, which means he is not great at adjusting his own behaviors. this also means he refuses to catch up to modern technology and trends and is overall very outdated. he'll get irritated with you for using modern slang he doesn't understand, but will refuse to actually learn the slang terminology. while his class and refinement is attractive and well-meaning in most cases, in some situations it can definitely cause some friction between the two of you. he never wants to watch a movie with you, or go to a nightclub, or even attend concert with you because they're all "too modern" for his tastes. then he'll turn around and get pissed if you invite someone else! alastor also pretty much refuses to take photos with you and avoids most technology all together. i genuinely think he does have a phone, but its super outdated and he is the absolute dryest texter. he will just leave you on read most of the time and doesnt understand why its a big deal

he is not very physically attentive. while we know that alastor is definitely not a fan of being touched, there are moments where he will just randomly start being very touchy with you, but won't let you reciprocate. like he will completely invade your personal space at the most random lowkey inconvenient time and start showing you affection, but when you try to reciprocate he just gets icked out and pulls away. alastor doesn't even explain himself either, he will just... walk away. he doesn't understand that you have very different needs than him and is always confused as to why you're so touch starved. he's giving you attention, isn't that enough? he just doesn't get that theres a vast difference between him looming over you and practically leaning on you, and actually cuddling him and showing you affection. he also will randomly just disappear for days on end. like one day you'll be hanging out going on cute romantic dates to cannibal town and literally being fine and then the next he's gone with no note not information, you just wake up and he isn't there. alastor gets better at communicating his absences once he realizes how worried it makes you, but its certainly alarming in the beginning of your relationship because you think he's upset with you when in reality he's just fucking around and finding out doing god knows what. it takes time for the both of you to find a happy medium ground where you can satisfy your own physical needs while he can also take his own space, but once you do, your relationship goes a LOT smoother.

Vox

Green Flags

Very devoted to you. vox is the type of guy to be absolutely WHIPPED for everything his partner does, and he is not afraid of showering you in affection. while he does find public image important, in his mind, you're the most important and valuable thing in his life. he wants the world to know that you belong to him and that he belongs to you, and he is NOT the type of person to be embarrassed about his partners quirks

He prioritizes satisfying your needs and feelings. whether its sexually, physically, or emotionally, vox is always willing to provide you with comfort. he would never want you to be left unsatisfied or needy, and really wants to be enough for you. vox is self aware and knows that he isn't perfect, but he always gives you more than the bare minimum. his work schedule is a little wild and he always feels bad about not getting to spend time with you so he schedules out full days that are dedicated just to you. he's very attentive and is pretty good at noticing when something is wrong, and he has no qualms about approaching you about anything you might be facing.

trusts you. a lot. in the beginning of the relationship less so, but over time he gradually opens up to you more and more. you are definitely vox's favorite person without a doubt, and he makes sure you know it. early on in your friendship, before you even started dating, vox found himself falling for you. he really didn't want to fuck up what he had with you and wanted to make it clear that you meant more to him. in the beginning of your official relationship, especially during the honeymoon phase and first couple months, he's SOOOO nervous. vox very rarely lets his guard down around others, but with you, he feels his walls instantly shatter. he doesn't understand why he's so drawn to you, but he loves you because of it. he finds a lot of comfort in you and your one of the very few people who have seen him at his worst.

Red Flags

vox sometimes thinks he knows whats best for you, and will act on his own accord to make decisions for you, especially early into a relationship. vox knows hell is dangerous and he knows that there are people who would hurt you to get to him, and he wants to keep you safe more than anything. sometimes he'll watch you on security cameras without your consent, or he'll track you on your phone to know where you are. if you ever found out he wouldn't see the issue until you explained it, but if you really, really had a problem with it he'd stop.

he can be manipulative without even realizing it. vox is surrounded by cruel, nasty people most of the time and will take his own nastiness out on you unnecessarily. like you both will be in an argument and he won't even listen to your side because he just automatically assumes he's right. he'll be condescending and try to change your mind rather than hearing you out. this is obviously very frustrating on your end because, while vox isn't always aware of it, he's still treating you like shit and just trying to manipulate you. i also think he'd accidentally hypnotize you sometimes. like you both would be arguing and vox's hypnotism would just start and he wouldn't realize until he noticed that you were just staring blankly at him. he would feel SO guilty about it though, and it would probably eat at him for a while. you're the person he cares about the most and he genuinely doesn't mean to hurt you, and he definitely does not want to hypnotize you without your consent. vox loves you because youre YOU, not because you listen to his every word like everyone else in his life. it honestly makes him insecure, and he starts to worry that maybe it isn't the rest of hell that he should be worried about hurting you, and maybe its himself thats your biggest threat. PLEASE comfort him he has the emotional capacity of a brick and cares about you too much for his own good. over time his toxic manipulation and cruel behaviors stop, especially towards you, but it can be very, very tedious in the start of your relationship.

mansplains. this is moreso a personal pet peeve of mine and as much as i love and adore vox he absolutely would mansplain and would get pissed when you don't listen. he would also get pouty if you already understand what he's talking about or just brush him off. sometimes it can be kind of endearing though when he's infodumping, and over time his mansplaining slowly forms to infodumping to you. its kinda cute how his behavior changed to match yours, and how excited he gets over sharing shark facts with you.

loved writing this sm this was lowkey an excuse to just psychoanalyize my favs- will prob do a pt 2 once i finish all 500 of my other WIPS + requests lmao- this was originally gonna include luci but i couldn't think of enough red flags and i was also very tired so im sorrryyyyyy he'll probably be in pt 2 😭