#i am just wildly intimidated by all of you

[pheroyyay]

(reblogging on my sideblog instead of agrippina!!!) ty slinky ur enthusiasm for all your interests always brightens my feed even though i'm not always cool & hip enough to know what it's about ✊🏼😔

tagging my moots @oldphanny for being groovy and wonderful and @pissterdaniel who must be the most talented crocheter i have ever seen!!!

Give this to one of your most loved mutual

Mines r: @jadescortaurius1 @thevisitmaxxedfriend @misschuckito @ethanthespookymonth @softwolfiee

[megumismyhusband]

meeting katsuki’s parents was… an experience.

you had prepared yourself for a lot—maybe his mom would be strict, maybe his dad would be intimidating, maybe they’d question your intentions. what you didn’t expect was for mitsuki bakugo to take one look at you, blink, then turn to her son with the most incredulous expression you’d ever seen.

“you’re messing with me.”

katsuki clicked his tongue. “what the hell are you talking about?”

she gestured at you. “this is your girlfriend?”

you smiled nervously and gave a little wave. “um, hi?”

she looked back at katsuki. “be serious.”

katsuki groaned, running a hand down his face. “yes, old hag, this is my girlfriend. what, you think i’m lying?”

mitsuki stared at you again, then back at katsuki, then back at you. “sweetheart,” she said, addressing you this time, “blink twice if you need help.”

masaru sighed from the kitchen table. “mitsuki…”

“no, seriously! you’re so cute, so polite—what do you even see in this angry little goblin?” she continued, gesturing wildly at her son.

you giggled. “he’s not that bad.”

katsuki scoffed. “damn right i’m not.”

mitsuki ignored him. “so, what? you just… like him? like, willingly?”

you nodded. “mhm! he’s actually really sweet when you get to know him.”

mitsuki looked so unconvinced. “are we talking about the same kid? blond, loud, temper worse than mine?”

masaru chuckled. “it does seem surprising, dear.”

“i don’t get what’s so shocking about this!” katsuki snapped, crossing his arms. “i’m a catch, damn it!”

mitsuki smirked. “you’re something, alright.”

you just squeezed katsuki’s hand, beaming up at him. “i think he’s perfect.”

he huffed, ears tinged pink. “damn right i am.”

mitsuki clapped you on the back—hard enough to almost knock you over. “you’ve got patience, i’ll give you that. welcome to the family, sweetheart. you’re gonna need all the luck you can get.”

[musingsofahufflepuff]

Puppy Eyes

animagus!Mattheo Riddle x gn!reader; fluff

summary: your boyfriend suckered you into becoming an animagus with him, and knowing him it was probably to cause mischief. but surrounded by the night breeze and the stars in his eyes, you know you’d follow him on any adventure.

a/n: 2 published in 2 days? maybe i am magic. i’m kinda obsessed with the idea of animagi and i cannot for the life of me find one where mattheo is one too. so i wrote one. i’m definitely down to write a part 2 or one for theo, just let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in ♡

You were ready to get this damn leaf out of your mouth. A mandrake leaf specifically, which you were planning to use in your pursuit of becoming an animagus. It had been sitting in your mouth for almost an entire month and it wasn’t getting any better. You looked up at your boyfriend, who was in the same predicament, with a scowl.

It had been his idea to start the process of becoming animagi and with those big brown eyes, who were you to say no? So here you were at breakfast trying not to swallow it and heaven forbid having to start over.

“I can’t believe you guys are really going through with it,” Pansy looks between the two of you.

“Riddle just wants to commit crimes and get away with it,” Draco smirks, “impressive he roped y/n into it with him though.”

Mattheo rolls his eyes before focusing his attention back on you. The smile he gives you makes your irritability fade away.

Before you knew it the month was up and all there was left to do was wait for a lightening storm. Which just so happened to be tonight. Mattheo had kept the phials of potion in the shrieking shack after you had finished putting them together. That’s where you were heading now.

He was sitting cross legged on the floor when you made it inside. His eyes lit up once he saw you, a small smile finding its way onto his lips. “I was a little worried you were going to back out.”

“I thought about it,” you tease and you settle down next to him. “You sure about this?”

“Completely.” He gives a squeeze to your hand before placing the crystal phial in your grasp, the liquid inside now a blood red.

You get out your wand and say the incantation one last time and pause to watch Mattheo take the potion like he was taking a shot of fire whiskey.

With a deep inhale, you follow Mattheo’s lead and tip the potion into your mouth.

The sensation is… odd. Like your bones were all shifting at once. There’s a searing pain everywhere and that double heartbeat you had experienced while performing the incantation over the past week. Moments pass before you open your eyes.

Your perspective of the room has changed drastically, everything towering above you. Right in front of you stands a striking dark wolf, at least double your height. And those chocolate brown eyes are unmistakable.

You aren’t surprised that Mattheo turned out to be a canine. You also aren’t surprised how ethereal he looks. If anything, you were surprised he wasn’t a golden retriever, with his eager to please personality (at least for you) and puppy dog eyes.

You notice his tail wagging wildly behind him which leads you to look behind you and see a fluffy, mocha-colored tail doing similar. While you were mesmerized by your new appendage, Mattheo padded his way over to you and dropped into a laying position to not intimidate you.

Pulling your attention to your boyfriend you see he still has the scar on the bridge of his nose, only now it rests in the middle of his snout. Instinctively, you push your head into his fluffy neck, letting out a sigh when he rests his chin on you. He still smells the same as he normally does, cigarettes and his cologne filling your lungs.

You find yourself migrating between his paws, curling into the soft fur of his chest.

You lay together for a while, the storm still raging on outside the shack. As it sounds like it’s letting up, Mattheo rises on all fours and nods for you to follow him.

The grass is damp beneath your paws and the night sky is now clear above you. It takes a few moments to get used to moving on four legs instead of two, but Mattheo looks to be a natural. Your heart warms watching him run through the grass, apparently having the time of his life.

Finally feeling confident on your legs, you take off in his direction. Seeing you sprinting towards him has his tail moving a million kilos an hour. With a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, he turns and leads you toward the forest. In any other circumstance you’d be a little nervous running off into the forbidden forest, but something about your new form takes the anxiety off your chest.

The forest at night was something otherworldly. Moonlight filtered through the trees, illuminating Mattheo’s fur. You pushed your legs faster to catch up to his longer stride. Finally getting side by side, you take a look at him and the look on his face simultaneously fills your heart with glee and sorrow.

He looks free. More free than you had seen him in your half a decade of knowing him. You desperately want to see him like this all the time.

You don’t immediately realize you’ve stopped running, lost in the happiness radiating off him. Blinking a couple times, you look around at your surroundings. You’re standing at the edge of a small lake, the moonlight sitting peacefully on the surface. To your left is, to your surprise, a unicorn resting in what appears to be its den of sorts.

Wonder in your eyes, you look up to find Mattheo already looking down at you. As you gaze into those brown eyes you adore, you can see the entire universe looking back at you.

The next morning finds you in Mattheo’s bed, his limbs tangled in yours. He’s still sleeping and you can’t help but think how gentle he looks like this. You press a kiss to his nose. As his grip tightens around you, you hear him mumble in his sleep laced voice, “I love you, my little fox.”

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt 7

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

A/N: okay after a long while, here we have an update! huge shoutout for @olesyaexperience for the lovely message she left me for this series. i hope you enjoy this!!

Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @khaylin27 @0710khj @its-elias-world @vizzzashley @allisonwoods @taytaylala12 @miarabanana @ceciii-b @lindsayjoy444

2010, Winter break

If anyone asks, Y/N was not waiting on Sebastian's call.

She definitely was not checking her phone every five minutes to see if Sebastian left a message or anything. In her defense, she was just a bit worried that Sebastian must have been upset with her not being around. This championship is a big thing and a once in a lifetime achievement so she should have forced herself to celebrate yesterday with the team. With their abrupt leaving yesterday, she fed the media with the narrative that Webbers are crybaby and can't accept that Vettel won.

But she might have given herself away when she picked up the phone without it going on a single ring.

"Whoa its like you were waiting for me to call" Sebastian's teasing voice greeted her.

"Well hello there Mr. World Champion" Y/N replied back "Seems like you've been busy"

Sebastian chuckles at the other end and Y/N could just picture that smile on his face right now.

"Not too busy, just chilling around" Sebastian shrugs.

Y/N wraps her jacket closer to her body. It was snowing today in Australia, a big contrast to the tropical weather of Abu Dhabi. She finds herself thinking if Sebastian is inside his hotel room and taking a break from all the media duties.

"How are you feeling champ?"

"Amazing. Unreal. Phenomenal. High" Sebastian enumerates.

She was brimming with joy for Sebastian. It was really a well-deserved win. She wished that she could be there for Sebastian but her health is really taking a toll on her.

"You don't have to worry"Sebastian reassures "I'll win the championship again next year and you could celebrate with me then"

"Really? You are that confident?"

"Of course especially when you are smiling wildly like that"Sebastian teased.

"You got that I'm smiling from hearing my voice?" Y/N confusedly asked.

"Look out your window"

There was no way that Sebastian would be traveling all the way to Australia just to see her. However, there was the german driver standing with a grin on his face. Y/N didn't waste any more time and ran down to hug the world champion.

"You're fucking crazy Seb" Y/N exclaimed before hugging him.

They could feel both of their hearts pounding as they exchanged gleeful chuckles with each other.

"Only for you Y/N" Sebastian whispers "Only for you"

And Y/N swears her heart just went faster.

2011, Melbourne Grand Prix Circuit

It was a different feeling walking back to the paddock and having so many people cheer your name. For Sebastian, being the current world champion, has instantly given him a boost of fans especially among the young boys, who wanted to be a world champion just like him.

He never felt intimidated by the kids but with the way that this blonde kid has been making his way to him, Sebastian would like to rethink his decision that kids aren't scary.

"You are Sebastian Vettel right?" the blonde-haired kid asked.

The kid was dressed in a casual way without any team merchandise or branding with him. He looked pretty serious looking for a kid of his age and Sebastian swears he seen this look before. He cautiously looked at the paddock passes that hung around the child's neck, Mick Schumacher.

"I am Sebastian" Sebastian straightens himself up.

"I have heard a lot of things about you from Y/N" Mick said "I need to talk to you privately about her"

Sebastian could only nod as he led the young Schumacher to his driver's room. He honestly didn't think that he would be following a young kid's orders but here he is.

"What do you wanna talk about?"Sebastian started to ask

"I heard you went to her over the christmas break that's why she couldn't join us to go for skiing" Mick paced the room "And I heard you also took her to Monaco for her birthday"

The way Mick looked at Sebastian, he honestly doubt if Mick is actually a Michael Schumacher in disguise.

"And so what's your deal with her?"Mick crossed his arms "Do you like her?"

"What? How can you possibly say that, that's cra-"

"You do things for Y/N that my Papa does to my Mama"Mick said

His face was heating up by the ambush questioning of Mick and he felt himself sweating with the pressure building up. Sebastian already knew of his feelings from long ago but he couldn't understand why he doesn't have the guts to admit it.

"Well, I'm waiting here"Mick was an impatient kid "Do you like her or not?"

"I like her" Sebastian mumbles as if its a secret he only wanted to shared with himself.

"What? I can't hear you"

"Fine, I like her. I like Y/N" Sebastian admits louder.

It was the first time that Sebastian saw a small smile appear on Mick's face. He felt like his shoulders relaxed a bit while the young boy sits on one of the couches.

"So if you like her then why don't you make a move on her?"

Sebastian was stumped by the boy's question. Why doesn't he make a move on her?

"Well its complicated Mick and its not easy because I might lose a friend" Sebastian argues "It's not that I don't want to make a move on her but I don't want to put her in a difficult position"

"But isn't this also difficult for the two of you? Pretending you two are friends when you two are so much more"Mick had a good point.

He scratches his head. He actually had a plan long ago about confessing to Y/N when he becomes world champion but its been months after he became a world champion but he has no where near a game plan of how to confess to Y/N.

"You adults are so complicated, no wonder Mama doesn't want me to grow up"Mick complains.

"You won't get it, its too complicated and dangerous"

"You drive fast cars for a living and you say that telling a girl that you like how you feel is dangerous" Mick pouts.

Sebastian could only laugh how smart Mick was. He cannot believe that a young boy is telling him what to do with his love life.

"I only came here for one thing and that's for you to make a promise to have good intentions with Y/N"Mick added "Y/N is one of the best person out there and she takes care of me and my sister when our parents are not around"

There was a clear adoration in Mick's eyes and Sebastian felt himself warm up to how Mick is here because he is looking out for Y/N. He gave him a small pat in the back.

"Don't worry about it, I got her"

"Promise me that you won't hurt her okay? Even if it takes time for you to say your feelings"Mick reiterated.

"I promise Mick"Sebastian chuckles.

The little boy felt comforted by Sebastian's words and soon enough the two were engaging about a topic on motorsports. It turns out that having a great adoration for Y/N isn't their only shared interest. As they were heading out of the Red Bull motorhome, they encountered a very stressed out Y/N.

"Ohmygod Mick, we have been looking everywhere for you" Y/N worriedly states "Your Papa and Mama has been worried sick"

"I only went to have a chat with Seb"Mick grins.

Y/N looked at Sebastian suspiciously as if trying to figure out what the two talk about.

"Should I be worried?"

"You shouldn't stress about it"Sebastian assures "C'mon lets get little Schumi back to Michael"

The walk back to the Mercedes motorhome was how Mick held on both Sebastian and Y/N's hands. The three were giggling with each other while the cameras capture them. If there were new fans on the grid then they would have thought that they are a family walking at the paddock.

Somehow this thought couldn't leave Sebastian's head.

2011, Sepang International Circuit

Sebastian's dominance for the season is being affirmed with his second win for the current season. Y/N understands how this puts a lot of pressure on Mark especially when he feels frustrated that they have the same car but they are performing differently.

Usually, Y/N would congratulate Mark with a stellar drive because he went from P10 to P4 but her older brother is having a tantrum.

"I'm not doing well so save your congratulations for when I win a Grand Prix" Mark was furious with his words.

"Can you be a good sport and just for a second think rationally before speaking"Y/N pleaded.

"I don't give a crap about this" Mark replied "I am here to win and not be Mr. Congeniality"

Y/N slammed the door shut so no one could overhear them talking. With the way their voices are raised right now, Y/N's main goal was not to let the media get a whiff of this whole conversation.

"Seriously Mark, this isn't you... What is happening to you"Y/N asked.

"I'm actually done playing nice one with Sebastian and I'm focused on how to beat him this season" Mark stated "I don't care if he is your friend but on track he is a different person and I'll start acting like that"

"Mark, this isn't good for you"

"Just shut it Y/N if you're not going to help me win" Mark's words were cold.

And he left Y/N with her devices. Y/N couldn't believe that Mark could say such words but she attributes it to the pressure that must have been building up at his side of the garage. She just brushes it off as a bad weekend attitude from Mark.

2011, Silverstone circuit

Webber made the second driver again.

Mark Webber must have thought that he can secure a win for this weekend with his pole position advantage. However as the race began, Sebastian Vettel, his teammate and current world champion, has received a better start. Vettel was quick to surpass his teammate and hold a comfortable distance between them. Webber was able to retake the lead when Vettel had a pitstop but his victory was only shortlived after Webber suffers a horrendous pitstop.

By the end of the race, the controversial radio of Red Bull telling Webber to retain his position behind Sebastian. But Webber disobeyed the orders and continues to fight for Sebastian at the very end. Unfortunately for the Australian driver, Sebastian Vettel stays ahead claiming P2 and him in P3. Well its not bad for a second driver, atleast you are still in the podium Mark.

Webber and Button reunited in McLaren.

Y/N Webber and Jenson Button are spotted leaving the Silverstone Circuit last Sunday. Eagle-eyed fans spotted how they went straight to the McLaren Technology Center. It is quite funny because as one may recall it, Y/N Webber is technically a Red Bull employee as Mark's personal assistant. So what is she doing winding up in the enemy's territory?

2011, Nürburgring

Sebastian would like to think that this is all just an elaborate prank and that Y/N transferring to McLaren is just a joke. However, as race week start to approach and he sees how Y/N is wearing a McLaren team merchandise, Sebastian was out of focus.

He immediately seeks out his teammate because how could he have let Y/N go to other teams.

"Mark, what the fuck is going on with Y/N?" Sebastian barged in "I just saw her entering McLaren"

"What do you think it looks like?" Mark scoffed.

There is no way that Y/N would have been supporting McLaren unless she wasn't actually supporting McLaren.

"You fucking fired her?"

It was the only logical explanation available for Sebastian. Y/N got fired by Mark and Y/N had to find another job to sustain herself. Sebastian already know that McLaren has been trying to poach Y/N since Jenson moved there but he was always confident that Y/N would only switch if Mark fired her.

"I have to"Mark confirms "She is a distraction for me and a liability"

"A liability? A distraction?" Sebastian was bewildered.

"Yes because as long as she is here then I cannot fight you for the championship because I'm thinking how my personal relationship is at stake if I fight you"Mark was placing the blame on Y/N "But I want to fucking win"

Sebastian was beyond speechless. He have seen how much Y/N has tried her best to seperate their friendship and her family relationship especially during the championship. He felt so angry because all Y/N has been doing for the past few years has been to support Mark. But Mark has a too big of an ego to see that.

"You better watch yourself because I'm going to run you to the wall" Sebastian promised.

There was a certain anger in Sebastian's eyes because he felt like he would be driving with a personal vendetta for the next few races. Y/N has been so wronged by her brother and Sebastian promises that he will make it much more difficult for Mark.

"Is that a threat Vettel?"

"You bet it is"

[gilbertscurls]

hopeless — chris sturniolo

While you were busy fighting with your unruly eyeliner pencil in the poorly lit girls’ bathroom, Chris Sturniolo was wrestling with the snooze button on his alarm clock.

He finally managed to drag himself out of bed, bleary-eyed and muttering curses at the cruel world of 7 AM wake-up calls. His morning routine wasn’t exactly polished, and that became painfully evident when he spilled his coffee—hot coffee—on his favorite lacrosse jersey.

“Are you kidding me?” he groaned, holding the stained fabric away from his chest like it had personally offended him.

With no time for a wardrobe change, he shoved his feet into mismatched socks, grabbed his gym bag, and dashed out the door with his hair still doing its best impression of a hedgehog who had been struck by lightning.

It was third period, and the universe seemed determined to keep your life firmly categorized under “mildly catastrophic.” You sat in the library, surrounded by an intimidating pile of textbooks, your laptop blinking a low-battery warning at you.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, shoving your glasses up your nose and squinting at your notes.

The universe, however, wasn’t done with its morning antics. Because at that exact moment, Chris Sturniolo barreled through the double doors of the library like a golden retriever that had just been let off its leash.

He was wearing his stained jersey, his hair still a mess, and he looked utterly confused as he squinted at the rows of tables.

“Chris?” Mrs. Jenkins, the librarian, hissed from her desk. “This is a library. Lower your voice, please.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Chris whispered, though it wasn’t much quieter than his regular speaking voice. He scanned the room, spotted you hunched over your pile of work, and beelined toward your table with an exaggerated sigh of relief.

You glanced up, your pencil hovering mid-air. “Uh… can I help you?”

Chris dropped into the chair across from you, dropping his gym bag onto the floor with a loud thud. “Please tell me you’re in AP Chemistry.”

You blinked at him. “Yeah… why?”

“Because I am so lost, and I think I’m about to fail this entire unit. Coach said if I bomb another quiz, I’m benched for Saturday’s game.”

“Okay… and you came to me because?”

Chris grinned, and for a moment, you could see why half the school practically melted every time he flashed that signature smirk. “Because you’re, like, the smartest person in this school. And also because I think everyone else is scared of me.”

You fought back a smile, biting your lower lip. “You? Scary? You literally tripped over a basketball in the hallway last week.”

“That was one time!” Chris exclaimed, a little too loudly, earning a sharp glare from Mrs. Jenkins. He winced and lowered his voice. “Listen, Y/N. Please. I’ll do… whatever. Carry your books, buy you coffee, sing your praises in the hallway—just please help me not fail.”

You stared at him for a moment, watching his puppy-dog eyes practically bore into your soul. You sighed, finally closing your textbook.

“Fine. Meet me here after school. Bring your notes—if you have any.”

Chris grinned wide, his dimples on full display. “You’re the best, seriously. Like, the best.”

Before you could respond, he was up and out of his chair, gym bag swinging wildly over his shoulder as he dashed out of the library.

You shook your head with a laugh.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, and true to his word, Chris was already waiting at your usual library table. His jersey still had a faint coffee stain on it, but he’d at least attempted to fix his hair—it was still a little chaotic, but charmingly so.

“Okay, show me what you’ve got,” you said, setting down your backpack.

Chris unzipped his gym bag and pulled out… nothing.

“Chris.”

“No, wait, wait!” He started digging through the pockets, pulling out crumpled papers, a broken pencil, and—somehow—a granola bar wrapper.

“Chris!”

“Okay, okay!” He held up a single sheet of paper. “This is all I have.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying not to laugh. “You are hopeless.”

Chris shrugged sheepishly. “But I’m charmingly hopeless?”

You rolled your eyes and motioned for him to sit down. “Alright, let’s start from scratch. And if you mess up one more formula, I’m writing it on your forehead with permanent marker.”

Chris grinned as he grabbed a pencil. “Deal.”

Two hours later, the library was nearly empty. Chris had his head resting on the table, groaning softly as you pointed at yet another chemical equation.

“Chris, focus.”

“I can’t. My brain is full.”

“It’s been full since the second grade, hasn’t it?”

Chris lifted his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Wow, Y/N. Who knew you were so sassy?”

You shrugged. “It’s easy when the person across from me still doesn’t know the difference between a mole and molarity.”

Chris groaned again, dropping his forehead onto the open textbook.

“Okay, fine. We’ll stop here for today,” you said, unable to keep from laughing.

Chris lifted his head slowly, a tired but genuine smile on his face. “Thanks, Y/N. Seriously. I would’ve been toast without you.”

You hesitated before responding. “You’re welcome, Chris. But you owe me. Big time.”

He stood up, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry. I plan on paying you back.”

You raised a brow. “How?”

“With my sparkling personality, of course,” he said with a wink before jogging backward out of the library.

You shook your head, watching him disappear down the hallway.

Chris Sturniolo, the messy-haired, coffee-stained, perpetually-late lacrosse jock, had somehow managed to make chemistry tutoring feel… fun.

And maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t mind seeing him at the library again tomorrow.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim, @courta13

[parkerslatte]

Unspoken

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: mentions of Beron’s torture. mentions of nightmares.

Summary: Eris had been in love with his best friend for centuries. After a long, tiring day of his duties as High Lord, he just wants to sleep. But he would rather listen to Y/N talk to him more.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The moment Eris entered his own private chambers, he immediately shrugged off his jacket and let it fall to the floor. Next were his shoes, he kicked those from his feet and dragged himself to his large bed in the centre of the room. When he was near it, he allowed himself to fall, landing on the soft mattress and pillows. He always knew that being High Lord would be time consuming. But he hadn’t realised how long he would need to be on his feet all day. Eris was sure that he had only been allowed five minutes to rest his feet before he was demanded somewhere else. All he wanted was rest.

Eris closed his eyes and begged his body to drift off to sleep. Of course nothing came of it. Despite the fact that his father was dead, killed by his own two hands, Eris could never fully settle. Afraid that if he closed his eyes, his father would rise from the shallow grave Eris buried him in and come after him. For months, Eris was constantly plagued by that nightmare, his only reprieve from it was–

“Eris!” A voice called through the door. “Are you in there?”

A soft smile fell upon Eris’s face. “Yes, my dear.”

The door was pushed open and in walked Y/N, Eris’s best friend for the past few centuries. Since becoming High Lord, Eris had finally allowed her to enter his chambers for the first time. Always wanting to keep her out in case his father ever got the wrong idea and would use her to make him obedient. Now he had a hard time keeping her out of his chambers. She always demanded that they were much nicer than hers. 

“You will simply not believe the day I have had!” Y/N exclaimed, falling next to him on the bed. 

Eris moved to lay comfortably on his back and turned his head to look at Y/N. Her hair was simply a mess, sticking up in nearly every direction. Eris chuckled at the sight. “Tell me about it.”

Y/N huffed. “Well when I got to the shop, there was a vile woman already waiting outside demanding to be let in, insisting that the shop hadn’t opened on time. Even though I had written a note, with large bold letters I may add, fixed to the front door that explained that I would be opening an hour later than usual.”

“She sounds awful,” Eris commented.

“That’s not all!” Y/N exclaimed. “When I let her in, she said that the bread I baked was not fresh enough, even though I put an enchantment on it to make sure that it was, and demanded that I make a fresh batch just for her. I don’t have the time for that! I am the only one working at the bakery and there was a large line forming.”

“What did you tell her?” Eris asked.

He had now turned on his side and watched as Y/N told her story, her hand gesturing wildly. Ever since he had met her when she worked as a chef in the kitchens, he had always loved the way she emphasises her speech with her hands. Often when people noticed it she would try to stop, but not around Eris. Never around Eris.

Eris knew that their friendship was unexpected, he hadn’t expected it himself. But after she was sent by his mother to give him food when he was extremely ill, Eris had simply loved her since then. She never cowered away when he glared at her and tried to intimidate her. She never backed away when he spoke cruel words about her job and her station. She didn’t even leave when he dismissed her. She had stayed and asked him what was the matter and that was when the facade Eris constantly had up vanished. No one had ever asked him that before. The softness in her voice, the understanding. It was something Eris had never experienced. 

After that it was always quick yet playful glances in corridors. The occasional nudge when brushing past one another. And when Eris had endured another beating from his father, he would make his way to the kitchens. And remain with her. Those few days after the beatings, Beron never expected Eris to make an appearance anywhere so he could be in the servants quarters without the threat of his father coming after him.

Eris remembered the first night he had spent with her. They had only known each other for a few months by that point so Eris hesitated before knocking on her door. He knew that she had a room to herself, it was the size of a shoebox but Y/N was grateful for her own space. When Y/N brought him inside and cleaned the wounds on his back, Eris finally allowed himself to break down for the first time in a long time. Y/N only held onto him, soothing him, as he cried and let everything out. Not once did she complain. 

Even when he fell asleep in her arms, Y/N did not complain, she only held him closer. That following morning, Y/N never made him leave, she simply stayed with him the whole day. She took his mind off everything. She made him smile. She made him laugh for the first time in years. It was so easy to fall in love with her. 

And he was still in love with her. Even after a few hundred years. 

“Eris?” Y/N said, nudging his arm. “Are you still listening?”

Eris smiled. “Yes, I’m still listening. What did you tell her?”

Y/N laughed. “Well first I threw the bread at her and told her to stick it up her–”

“Y/N,” Eris said, laughing loud. “You are going to lose customers.”

“I’ll be glad to lose her,” Y/N said. “She was a prick.”

Eris continued to chuckle as Y/N turned onto her side facing him. His hand twitched to reach out and pull her against his chest. It was all he wanted to do. 

“Why would you burden me with running a whole bakery?” Y/N questioned.

Eris rolled his eyes. “I did not burden you. I remember you begging me to buy the building when it was planned to be torn down. And I keep suggesting that you hire more people but you never listen.”

“Isn’t that your job?” Y/N questioned. “Since you bought the building?”

“I gave ownership to you,” Eris said. “It is legally your business and, therefore, your job to hire people.”

Y/N sighed. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about running a business where other people depend on me. The thought terrifies me. And what if they don’t like me, what then?”

“It would be impossible,” Eris stated.

“Me as someone’s boss? Because I agree.”

“No,” Eris said, his voice soft. “People not liking you. You are impossible not to like.”

Something flashed across Y/N’s eyes but it was gone before Eris could even place the emotion. 

“You mean that?” Y/N asked.

“Of course I do,” Eris said, swallowing hard. “You are the easiest person to like.”

It is why I fell in love with you, Eris thought. The words he was never brave enough to say. 

Y/N smiled and Eris swore his heart skipped a beat. “Thank you Eris.” Her tone was sincere and far from her usual light hearted and playful tone.

“I could always help you,” Eris said. “In the bakery.”

“Eris, you have enough duties here. You already look ready to pass out and the sun hasn’t even gone down,” Y/N said. “And why would you want to spend any more time with me than you already are? I’m sure you are sick of me already.”

“I could never be sick of you,” Eris said. “You are my best friend, Y/N. I will always want you around.”

Best friend. Those two words Eris hated. Y/N was more than his best friend. She was the light of his life. The reason he woke every morning. The reason he breathed. She was a part of his soul even if she didn’t know it. Eris was so inexplicably in love with her that nothing else mattered when he was with her. 

Something akin to disappointment flashed on Y/N’s face before it was gone in an instant. “Well you are my best friend too, Eris.”

Eris forced a smile upon his face. She was laying next to him on his bed, yet she still felt so far away. 

“I should be letting you rest, I can tell that you have had a long day,” Y/N said. “I don’t think you want me bombarding you with stories from work.”

“I enjoy your stories.” Eris’s voice was quiet and pleading. Pleading with her to stay for just a moment longer. 

The smile on Y/N’s face was small but Eris wanted it tattooed onto his brain. “Perhaps tomorrow,” Y/N said.

Disappointment surged through Eris as his hope subsided. Y/N leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “I will see you tomorrow Eris.”

“See you tomorrow, Y/N,” Eris replied, his voice unusually quiet. 

Y/N slipped from his bed and left the room and left Eris alone once more. The silence was almost deafening. If it weren't from the heat on his cheek from where Y/N had kissed him, Eris was sure he would go insane.

Eris did not even bother to chance into more comfortable clothes, he didn’t even bother to get under his covers. All he did was pull his pillow closer and close his eyes, his mind filled with images of Y/N before drifting off to a dreamless sleep.

[slvt4buffw0men1111]

Assistance

Pt. 2, Pt. 1

It’s the next day and this time you actually arrived to work 10 minutes early. Thanks to not having another nasty dream. Walking in with 2 black coffees in your hand to give to your bosses as an apology to being late the prior day. 

“Goodmorning Y/n.” the voice startled you almost dropping the hot drinks. You look over to see Sevika sitting at leaning at the receptionist desk, almost like she was waiting for you.  

“Oh my go- Goodmorning Ms. Verma, you scared me.” you said composing yourself. 

She tried to hide her laugh but failed.

“What’s that?” she asked pointing to the beverages in your hands. 

“I brought you and Mr. Davies coffees as an apology for being late yesterday.”, you say walking around the desk and placing the coffees on the receptionist counter. Sevika’s eyes following you. 

“Well thank you Y/n, but Mr. Davies isn’t here today he’s in court for a client.”, she says picking up the coffee, the cup looks comically small in her hands. 

*So, it’s just you and me today* 

“I have some clients coming today they should be in schedule just let me know when they arrive.” 

“Yes of course.” 

“And you look nice today.” she says before walking into her office. You know you look nice, you may or may not have worn a lower cut top and some work pants that are little more snug around your thighs and ass. 

“Thank you…”, you quietly. 

10 hours of answering phones, making appointments, and calling back clients you finally done for the day. You gather your things and make your way to Sevika's office to let her know your heading out.  

You knock on her office door and wait for an ok to come in. 

“Ya come in.”, she grumbled. 

You open the door and see Sevika sitting at her chair with her hair a slight mess and her blazer off leaving her in thin whit button up with the first few buttons down giving you a good look at her collarbones. Her sleeves rolled up to her elbows and you see that her left arm is a prosthetic like Mr. Davies eye. It is a medical accident law firm so makes sense. 

“Yes Y/n, you sure do have staring problem dear.”, she said pulling her mechanical arm off the desk and under it. 

“Um sorry I'm heading out now.”, you say looking anywhere except at her.  

“Oh, ok thank you for work.”, she says looking back at what looks like a hundred papers. 

“Do you need me to stay? You look like you're drowning in papers.” 

“No I don't want to have you stay longer than you have too.” 

“It’s ok really I have no plans I can stay.”, you assure her. 

“Ok then your help would be appreciated thank you.”, You pull up chair next to her. Her body stiffens but you pretend not to notice. She smells like cinnamon and cigars. 

“Can you gather the papers that say L. Jenkins and M. Smiths on the top. I have a meeting with them tomorrow and need to get their case sorted.” 

“Yes ma’am.” you start to shuffle through the papers looking for the name she said. You both work in silence for about 45 minutes you think you got all the papers but you spot one more on Sevika's side of the desk. And instead of standing up and waking around the table like a smart person, you instead lean across the table putting your breast in her face. You don't notice until you feel her breath on your chest.  

“Oh my god I am so sorry I wasn’t thinking that was wildly inappropriate of me, I’m so sor-” 

“Relax y/n it's not the first time I've had breast in my face.”, she said a little too casually. 

Oh? 

 “Well, I'm still very sorry.”, you say pulling your top up more to try to cover your cleavage. You try to hid your face in your papers, but Sevika's see’s and just laughs at you. 

“Do I make you that nervous?”, she teases. 

“No” 

Yes. 

“You just intimidate me I don’t want you to think that I'm not cut out for the job.” 

“I can assure you are more than cut out.”, she says placing a hand on your forearm. 

“If you weren’t Mr. Davies would've fired you already.” 

“That’s good to know.”, you look at her. 

“So what made you interested in this job?”, she asked. 

“I just have a lot of experience as a receptionist and I went to school for legal studies, so here I am.” 

“I knew you were a smart girl.", she said leaning back in her chair looking at you. 

“Thank you, ma'am, what about you? Why are you in Law?”, you reciprocated. 

“Long story short I got into a pretty bad accident when I was firefighter years and they didn’t want to pay for my medical bills so I became a lawyer so I could sue their ass and help others get the justice they deserve.” 

“Is that how you lost your arm?”, you blurted out without thinking, which caught her a little of guard. 

“Um yea, I didn’t think you’d notice.” 

*It’s kinda hard not too* 

“I think it's cool and unique like some kind of superhero”, you joke to break the awkward tension. 

“Ya you think so? Maybe I should start showing it off more.” 

“It wouldn’t hurt too.”, you respond as you get back to working on the papers. 

She just stared at you in awe. She doesn't usually get the best reactions when people find out she has a prosthetic, especially from the women she’s interested in. It's been a big insecurity of her and you just seemed to wash it away within minutes.  

You work for next hour and a half in silence only asking her occasional questions about the paper work. By 7pm you both are done. She waits for you to gather your things before leaving the building and locking up.  

“Let me walk you to your car.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to it’s just one block down.”, you lied it was actually 4 but you didn’t want to inconvenience her.  

“I’m walking you to your whether you want me too or not.”, she said. 

“Fine be my guest.”, you said before walking. 

You engage in some light conversation about the clients she has tomorrow before you knew it you were at your car. Conversation seems to flow with her. 

“This was more than one block.” ,she said 3 blocks in. 

“I know I just didn’t want to inconvenience you. ” 

“You could never inconvenience me, but Mr. Davies on the other hand.”  

“Ya my presence seem to inconvenience him.” you half joked. 

“He’ll warm up to you, your too sweet not to like.”, she said. Your face heats up and you make it to your car before you could think of anything to say. Thank God. 

“Well thank you for walking me Ms. Verma.” 

“You can call me Sevika.” 

“Thank you Sevika” you smile up at her before getting into your drivers seat. 

“Wait can I ask you a question?”, she asked her mechanical hand stopping your car door from closing all the way. 

“Ya of course Sevika.” 

“So, I have this banquet this Saturday and Silco is bringing his wife and I have no one to bring so I was wondering if you wanted to be my plus one?”, she asked you nervously. It was cute, you've never seen her this nervous before.  

“I would love to!”, you reply. 

“Perfect, let me get your number so I can send you details about it.”, she really could’ve just emailed you but she just really wanted your number. 

She hands you her phone and you put it in and save your contact. 

“Thank you, y/n, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“See you tomorrow Sevika.”, she shuts your car door for you and watches you drive off before heading back towards her car. She looks down at her phone and see your contact saved as “y/n: )”. 

You're gonna get her in trouble. 

Smut in next part!!! 

[justastraymoa]

Unwilling Alpha

Chapter 18

WC 3,486

Masterlist

Warnings ⚠️ swears, abo dynamics, mentions of slave trade, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, fear, manipulation. Falls injury but not severe, hospital, xray, cat scans, I am not a medical professional so ignore any oopsies when it comes to that.

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Half asleep still and confused I felt around the bed. Cold. It had been a while since they left. The confusion quickly led to panic as I sat up, now completely awake and aware. There was nothing in the room besides my few items left out. Nothing to indicate that they were here or were coming back.

Snatching my phone off the nightstand, I looked at the time. Almost lunch. And a text notification. I opened my messages.

I sighed out the panic that had crawled into my chest. The irrational thought of them abandoning me is gone now. I sent a quick text to my bodyguard group chat and swung my legs out of my warm blankets.

Since it was just me, I was allowed to drive myself for the first time. It had been so long since I drove, I was actually nervous to get behind the wheel again, but also giddy. So, with coffee in hand I set the GPS and headed to my boys.

The first thing I did was accidentally pull out in front of someone. I grimaced and waved in apology as they lay on their horn and yelled at me, gesturing wildly. Oops.

I did make it to the arena in one piece eventually. The roads in Melbourne were confusing as hell, even with GPS giving me step my step instructions. I made multiple wrong turns and got lost several more times.

Now, standing in the shadow of the massive arena, I was intimidated. And lost again. I wasn’t sure where to go in at or if they would even let me in. What if security didn’t know who I was?

What would I do then? The boys won’t be able to check their phones very often, I’m sure. And they won’t want to hold up or skip practice for me. They didn’t have a lot of time before the concert to prepare. And this mini tour was kind of a rapid tour as well. To reestablish themselves and assure everyone that they weren’t disbanding.

Maybe I should go back to my hotel room and hang out there for the day. I would be less of a nuisance there and my Omegas will be too busy to feel the separation.

Minjun shoved me gently from behind. “They are expecting you.” He spoke. It was like he was reading my mind and knew I was thinking of leaving. Like he knew my insecurities. Maybe he did. Maybe they were all over my face. Who knows, but I did follow his gesture to a metal set of doors that opened easily when I tested the handle.

The group was working on the spacing for Social Path. Music stopping and starting again as Lino adjusted something, then tried it out.

They were all so focused, they didn’t notice my arrival, but I felt 3x lighter just seeing them. Being close to them again. Even if I itched to reestablish contact too. Seeing them would have to be enough for now. I wasn’t going to disrupt their rhythm and flow.

Instead, I found a stadium seat and started to get my camera all set up. I may miss taking pictures of anything but my Omegas, and the various studios we ended up in, but I wasn’t about to stop taking those photos either. Each new experience with my boys would be immortalized on “film”. Hard copies of our memories together.

Getting the lighting right turned out to be impossible. The lighting crew was testing the lights, so it changed constantly. Being too dark here, then too light. The white balance completely off every time. But this was a challenge I liked. In my photography element and actually knowing what I was doing for the first time in what felt like a long time.

I dodged all the staff buzzing about. Frantically getting things set up for the show. Instead I stayed tucked in little nooks and crannies. Hiding in the spaces no one needed to use.

Binnie spotted me first. “Y/n!” He shouted, hands in the air and running toward me in baby. “You’re here!” He was entirely too loud, voice seeming to echo around the empty arena.

Matching his energy, I reached out to him from right next to the stage. “I am here!” I screamed back.

We awkwardly hugged from the drastically different levels. This stage was at my nose, nearly taller than I was. Even from an odd angle, Bin somehow managed to pull me up onto the stage with minimal effort. It was impressive.

“That was kind of hot, Bin, but I don’t want to get in the way of practice.” I patted his pink cheeks, ignoring the slight dampness left on my hand from sweat.

Ayen leapt onto my back, hanging on for a piggyback ride. I held his slight weight easily. I had held cameras that weighed more, honestly. “You won’t get in the way. Besides, you will get better pictures up here.” He nuzzled his nose behind my ear as he talked.

The rest joined us reconnecting with me by brief touches and not-so-subtle sniffs of my scent. Seungmin kissed my cheek and tweaked my chin gently. Lino patted my ass, looking a mixture of annoyed and tired, but I knew it wasn’t directed at me. He smelled stressed out. I wanted to help him destress, but I knew there was nothing I could do right now. Stress was part of life for them-for all of us now.

“Did you sleep okay after we left?” Seungmin asked. I nodded with a smile. “No nightmares?” He gave me a look warning me not to lie. I shook my head, confirming firmly that I had had no nightmares this morning. “Good.” Seungmin looked pleased and satisfied.

I was oddly proud and happy that I would make him so happy so easily. My metaphorical Alpha tail was wagging, and I hummed with a bright smile.

“Did you get here okay? I made sure to tell security to look out for you so they could tell you where to go.” Channie explained.

“Thankfully, Minjun seemed to know where to go so I got here just fine, thank you. Little rusty on driving though.” I pointed out. I needed to make a pint to drive regularly. Even if it’s just quick trips. There wouldn’t always be drivers to chauffeur us everywhere. And most of the boys had their licenses, but I couldn’t always be a passenger princess. I would go insane. Besides, I like driving. Its meditative. Especially long car rides alone. Nothing but you, the car, the road, and a good playlist as you lost yourself in your thoughts.

“Glad you made it. C’mon, back to work. Ayen, get down.” Lino clapped and ushered everyone back to where they needed to be.

Ayen pouted but slid off my back. I snapped a quick photo of his cute pouting face. Lower lip jutting out and eyes all big and watery. It was just so adorable, even if it did manage to pull at my heartstrings.

They got back to work, and I went back to snapping photos. Ayen was right, the photos were better from up here. And I felt on top of the world. Even with the seats empty it felt like I was the center of attention. It was oddly intimidating.

I was crouched at the very back of the stage, getting pictures of the boys and the arena when it happened. One second Binne and Lino were dancing next to each other-the next there was a loud clank, and the stage floor disappeared under them, sucking them in. It all happened in a single breath and my heart stopped.

Tossing everything aside I sprinted to the hole and my Omegas, who were possibly hurt. “Binnie! Lino!” I screamed as I slid to a stop at the edge of the hole.

A large group of people had all run over to help as well. I sobbed as I looked and saw my Omegas at the bottom of the hole, but moving slowly and carefully. Lino had landed mostly on top of Bin. “Don’t move! Are you okay?” I angrily swiped the tears clouding my vision so I could see my boys.

Ignoring Chan trying to stop me, I jumped down into the hole with Bin and Lino, desperately feeling at them for injuries.

Lino rolled off Bin carefully and they both groaned. “I’m okay, Alpha. Just bruised and shaken.” He promised squeezing my searching fingers.

Bin was a different story. He was cradling his left arm. My hands fluttered over it, looking for a visible injury. “Bin, your arm!” I sniffed.

“I’m okay.” He groaned unconvincingly. “I’m okay, Alpha, I promise. I just hit my head and hurt my arm.” He was careful not to move though.

“Is your arm broken?” Lino asked.

Bin shook his head. “Just a sprain I think.”

There were several people approaching from behind us, from another way under the stage. They were dragging stuff with them.

I spun and growled deep in my chest, warning the strangers not to come any closer to my injured Omegas. The strangers were dangerous and far too close for my liking, making me growl even louder. They weren’t getting to my Omegas; I wouldn’t let them!

The strangers paused, some even looking down and backing away a few steps. The one in front held out a hand, making me growl louder and crouch, ready to attack and defend my injured Omegas.

Bin and Linos’ scents got stronger as they tried to calm me down. I shook it off and focused on the strangers. There was danger here, I needed to be on guard and ready.

Carefully Lino slid a hand over my bicep and moved closer to me-sending more calming scent my way. “Alpha, we are okay. They only want to help.” He spoke slowly, quietly, and gently, avoiding my eyes and almost nuzzling into my neck. “Please let them help.” He begged.

Between the scents and Linos’s touch, I was coming back to myself just enough to recognize the strangers as EMTs. Here to treat injuries. Bin hit his head and hurt his arm. He needed them. They were trained for treating injuries, I was not. I couldn’t help him like they could, but I could let them help him.

I looked at the group of EMTs, struggling against every cell in my body that wanted to give in to my roaring instincts to guard and protect. There were five of them. Too many. “One.” I growled out. I wasn’t able to stop the warning growl completely, not yet. I was still too worked up. But I could handle one of them near my Omegas. I would just watch them very closely.

The EMT in front nodded in agreement and turned to the others to get supplies. I pulled Lino around so I could keep both him and Bin in sight as they were looked over. I was crouched over Bins legs, focused entirely on what was happening.

“Lino, what’s going on?” Chan asked from above us.

Lino was keeping one hand on me to try and keep me grounded. I was thankful for the contact. With my Omega injured, my Alpha instincts were far too close to the surface for me to be able to think straight. I was too raw with worry and fear.

“We are fine. The EMT is going to check us out.” He was being carefully vague on the details in case anyone with bad intentions was listening. Or a camera was recording.

Both Binnie and Lino were still pumpi9ng out calming chemo signals for me, even though they were the injured ones. And I was coming back enough to my senses to recognize them trying to care for me now.

There was a slight commotion above us as the others cleared away anyone not needed so we had privacy. And less people around made me feel better, calmer. More in control of the situation, which also made Lino and Binnie relax.

I took a deep breath to center myself. Me acting like this was only causing my Omegas to stress more. I needed to be calm and in control for them.

The EMT approached slowly, heading to Bin first, since he was the more injured party. Now faking calmness until I could be alone to let my swirling emotions go, I let the Beta approach without even a warning growl. I placed a hand on Binnies thigh, so he knew I was still here for him. I felt his muscles relax under my touch.

The EMT worked slowly, but efficiently. Explaining everything he was going to do before he did it. This was more for my benefit than Bins or Linos. Just like doing the initial checks in the dark under stage area was mostly for my benefit.

Lino checked out okay. Landing on Bin helped save him from injuries. Bin needed an x-ray and CAT scan at the hospital. Which meant either letting Bin out of my sight, or the rest of my Omegas and I really didn’t want to do either.

Bin kept hold of my hand with his uninjured one as we made our way out from under the stage, and he was strapped to a gurney. Lino kept his hand on my lower back. Chan and the others met us at the ambulance.

“Chan, I can’t – he’s hurt.” I struggled to explain why I couldn’t leave Bin, but I knew he would understand, as a leader himself.

Chan nodded and patted my hair. “Go in the ambulance, we will follow. We’ll be right behind you.” He promised.

“His Alphas riding along, make room.” The EMT who looked them over announced to the other in the ambulance.

They must have some kind of training in this because they all jumped into action to make room for me without question or complaint. Giving me the spot closest to him and not trying to separate our linked hands even once. Hyun helped me climb into the vehicle without one handed and the doors closed behind me.

My hurt Omega squeezed my trembling fingers. “I’m okay, Bun.” He whispered with a soft smile as the people around us worked. I kept my focus on him and not the many – too many – people around us.

I shook my head. “You don’t know that. You need tests.” I swallowed and fought to keep my emotions reined in. Now was not the time to let them out.

“That’s just a precaution. I barely even have a headache.”

“It’s a miracle you aren’t more injured! You had a whole person land on you!” It really was a crazy that he didn’t have broken ribs or ruptured organs.

Bin laughed. “We know how to fall to minimize injuries.”

“You shouldn’t have fallen to begin with! Why wasn’t that door properly secured?”

Bin shrugged. “Accidents happen.”

I hummed. I will ask the stage manager later what happened and who was responsible. This carelessness could have caused a serious injury! Someone needed to answer for this, and steps needed to be taken to prevent it from happening ever again.

At the hospital I was allowed as far as the radiation room door. So with a final squeeze and a kiss to his hairline I reluctantly let them take Bin away. Every part of me screaming against it. Against having him out of my sight and out of reach.

I paced just outside the door, listening in case he called for me. I really wanted to take this moment alone to let go. To let myself feel all the emotions I locked up to take proper care of my Omegas. But I was still in public. If someone caught it and my freakout got out it would damage Stray Kids’ reputation. And the scent may leak through the door to Binnie too, making him stressed again. I would have to wait until I was alone for real. Back at the hotel later, safe in my room later tonight.

It felt like Binnie was in radiation for hours before the door finally opened and he was wheeled out, now in a different bed and not the ambulance gurney. As soon as the door opened his eyes were searching for me, hand reaching for me as soon as he saw me.

He was given a large private room where the others were already waiting for us. Without letting go of Bin I reached for Lino, reassuring myself that he was still okay. He let me fuss with a nod of reassurance.

“What did they say, Bin?” I asked turning to tuck him into the hospital bed, careful of his arm and head. He now had an IV in one arm that I hadn’t noticed before with a bag of saline attached to it. “Did they give you anything?” I hadn’t even given him time to answer the first question yet, but the IV distracted me.

“They are waiting for results. And they gave me some pain meds. Nothing too strong.” He answered.

I felt my lips twist, but I kept my thoughts to myself. It didn’t sit right with me that they have my Omega something without telling me, before or after. I had to find out on my own. But he is a grown man and didn’t need my permission. I didn’t own him. It still felt like a betrayal of trust though.

Instead, I focused on fussing over him now. Adding another blanket and fluffing his pillow. I filled his hospital provided cup with ice water and added a straw before handing it to him, watching as he drank a few sips before placing it on the bed table for him.

“Y/N? Felix gently asked, quiet in his concern.

I shook my head. “I’m okay.”

But Bin caught my sleeve. “I’m sorry. I should have had them wait to give me anything.”

“No. You were in pain. And I am not your master.”

“No, you are my Alpha.”

The doctor came in then, in his traditional pristine white coat, carrying a file folder and a clipboard. One or both containing the results from Bins tests.

Thirty minutes of technical doctor mumbo jumbo later and Bin was given a sort of clean bill of health. The cleanest and best we could hope for at least. Bad sprain, impressive bruising, but no concussion or other head injuries. No internal injuries either. He was cleared to continue the concert after resting the rest of today.

The doctors and nurses seemed to ignore my existence until it came time to fill out paperwork. I stared blankly at the offered clipboard as everyone watched and waited.

“He can’t sign himself out of the hospital?” I asked dumbfounded.

The nurse shifted, uncomfortable. “Claimed Omegas need to have their Alpha or Beta sign the paperwork before they can be released.” He explained.

“What if he wasn’t claimed?”

“Then he could sign himself out.”

“That’s the dumbest think I’ve ever heard.” I snatched the clipboard from him and without breaking eye contact, I handed it right to Bin. “He doesn’t need my permission to leave the hospital.”

The nurse pursed his lips in disapproval but accepted the singed paperwork from Bin.

As Hyunjin and Ayen helped Bin get ready to go, Seungmin approached me hesitantly, hiding something behind his back. “What is it, Min?” I was getting nervous, still too on edge.

He brought my camera out from behind him. In all the chaos I had forgotten all about it. When did I set it down?

“We found it on our way to the cars. The lens is broken out and some buttons are missing.” He handed me the camera gently. The lens was completely missing and the casing had cracks. I must have dropped it when my Omegas fell. I never even registered it. “I’m so sorry.”

I opened a hatch on the side and popped out an unharmed memory card. “The memory card isn’t damaged. The pictures are fine. Ill just replace the camera. It’s fine. Thank you, Min.” I was sad to lose the camera. I had cherished it for many years now, but I am more focused on my Omegas right now. They were what was important.

Chan rubbed my back. “We will find a place to fix it.” He promised. I just nodded and smiled at him. There were so few places out there that could fix it, and they were expensive. It would be cheaper to replace it entirely. But I didn’t feel like talking about it now. Now I wanted to get my Omegas back to the hotel and resting properly. I wanted to get back to my hotel room and finally let go so I could properly care for them with a clear head and steady emotions.

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General Taglist @stellasays45 @beebee18 @weird-bookworm @velvetmoonlght

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[auspicioustidings]

Kinktober Day 12

Moniker: König Risk Level: Medium. König is a permanent resident of the Kennel. Brief: Mommy kink, breast worship Safeword: Refer to first brief. König is intimidating but will be more strange than dangerous when it comes to you, but I am watching and will be right there if you need me. We have König’s partner on standby if we need him to intervene and calm him down - Price

“Please mütterlein” the man in your lap begged as he pathetically pawed at your chest.

He was fucking massive, his head and shoulders already incredibly heavy on your thighs even with the rest of him laid out on the sofa. His auburn hair was tied back in small bun and you stroked at his head while he whined up at you with big, begging eyes.

It was very strange how he seem so submissive in every single way, but dominance was rolling off of him in waves regardless. He may have sounded like he was begging, but you knew a command when you heard one.

“Of course baby, mommy would never want you to go without” you said, swallowing back a nervous, manic giggle when his huge hand pulled your top down, bra cups with it.

There was no appraisal of your tits, no time taken for little kisses or testing squeezes. He latched on to one immediately, moaning lewdly and suckling. The other he clumsily took in his hand and played with.

No, not playing. Massaging. Milking.

“Mama, I love you so much” he whimpered, the words muffled as he refused to take his mouth from your nipple to say them. “I’ve been starving for you.”

Overwhelmed is what you were. Sure Nikto had fucked the blood of a man he tortured in front of you into your ass while you were on top of said tortured man, but somehow this was putting you way more on edge. This adoring giant in your lap sucking desperately at your tit felt pitifully fragile, like one wrong move could shatter him and in his place a monster would emerge.

“Oh baby, mommy is sorry she left you for so long. It was mean wasn’t it?”

“Mean” he repeated, drooling all over you as he switched to the other nipple.

The one he had suckled at already was soaked and swollen, but he was getting more and more desperate now.

“A-ah! No teeth baby” you winched when his hard sucking turned into his teeth latching to your nipple and tugging.

He pulled back, his teeth still latched so you had to bite back a scream at your abused nipple being pulled obscenely far away from your tit before he finally let it go.

“Please don’t be angry with me mama” he said, pathetic and ashamed. “I’ve missed your teats in my mouth so much, please do not be angry.”

He crushed his arms around you and buried his face in your tits as he quietly wailed, his shoulders shuddering. You wrapped your arms around his head and stroked his hair, shushing him.

“Shh, shh baby. It’s ok, mommy isn’t mad at you. She’d never be mad with her good boy would she? Her best boy?”

He tongued warm and wet between your tits, and used his hand to crush his head between the fat of them, fingers sinking in to the sensitive flesh. The plain pleasure pressure of it made you feel strange, body wildly confused about what it should be feeling.

He moaned and planted disgustingly wet kisses across your skin, making his way back to the nipple he hadn’t bitten and sucking hard.

“So warm, love mütter’s milk” he whimpered as he went to work drooling and then sucking so he was drinking back his own saliva, warmed by your breasts and his mouth.

You glanced to the rest of his big body, confirming that the dull thumping you were hearing was from him humping at one of the pillows as he suckled you.

“There you go baby, you drink from mama all you like.”

“Have to milk mama, can I please? Please mama?” he begged as he cried softly at your tit, mouthing at it now rather than properly latching.

“Go ahead baby.”

He muffled his keening moan back between you breasts, humping himself to completion inside his pants, milking his cock using the pillow. Fuck he was pitiful.

He didn’t stop, just kept whining and alternatively suckling your nipples or just mouthing at your soft tits even as you thought the cooling cum in his pants must be horribly uncomfortable. He kept going until your tits felt numb and you just kept petting his hair and cooing soft praises at him.

Eventually he fell asleep, his mouth still latched and sucking. You didn’t want to wake him even if his weight was starting to make your legs ache. The door opened and a man you hadn’t met walked in. He gave you a nod and then gently extracted König’s mouth from you. The big man grumbled, but once he peeked his eyes open and saw who was there he allowed himself to be groggily led away.

Price came in as they left, giving you a grimacing sort of smile.

“I did tell you he was strange.”

“Yeah, and you did dress me up as a 1950s housewife and have me bake you sourdough so…”

“…yeah fair enough. Fancy dinner?”

“You’re buying.”

“I’m buying.”

[miiilowo]

You should make the list of ways you were correct anyways, just for fun ~

eh. sure. why not

Any time a post of mine about afton got a decent amount of notes (aside from fanart) there'd usually be comments on it complaining about how "those" fans [note: i am one of "those" fans] have no idea what his personality actually is, and that they water him down, woobify and mischaracterize him, all while listing things off that are just genuinely part of william's character. while yes, there are fans that DO do that, the stuff they talk about is almost never an actual example of this happening. this is likely due to people not viewing him as a person and just a bland cold serial killer with no personality whatsoever

obviously movie william is not 1:1 with game or book william, but they're gonna be similar in personality. so heres some stuff ive seen people complain was "mischaracterization" thats present in the movie:

hes emotional/sentimental and actually cares about things - william calls the owner of freddys sentimental when talking to mike about the pizzeria (and we all know the owner is william), he visibly regrets/is shocked by the fact he stabs vanessa, he gets really worked up when things dont go his way, very quick to anger, etcetera. one could argue that william is lying about being sentimental and just wants to give an excuse for why the place is still around, but there'd be no reason to do that, considering mike has no idea anyone even died there, let alone the fact HE killed the kids. we know williams sole motive for keeping the place around definitely isnt just sentimental reasons, but i doubt that what he said doesnt have at least an ounce of truth to it. he holds onto trophies from his kills as well if him keeping garretts toy plane is anything to go off of

he actually likes bunnies and has an affinity for them - he has a rabbits foot on his keyring and has a letter/paper holder that's rabbit shaped. the letter holder isnt actually in any shots, but it was present on set on his desk

his personality isnt one note and dull/cold, and hes superstitious & a little offputting/jittery - the rabbits foot on his keyring ties into this idea, because if he actually believes it to be a good luck charm, then it shows some "quirkiness" for lack of a better term that people adamantly refuse to admit is in his personality. this also shows how hes superstitious, which is an idea thats present in the books, and people also like to pretend he isnt. he pokes fun at mike in a somewhat lighthearted way multiple times, he has a has a FRAMED PARTICIPATION AWARD on his wall for christs sake. the kids hair colors match the animatronics they were stuffed into (minus bonnie). he matched them. he made them match he paired them up for fun. not only that, but he gets visibly nervous and antsy when he realizes who mike is, and clearly really wants him to take the job. gets kind of weird. gets a kinda strange. he likes when things match afterall (symmetry, my friend!)

he's theatrical and over the top in personality on purpose (this is also essentially an argument for the last point) - in the books he goes on and on about performance and how he viewed both dave miller & springtrap as characters he plays, and i seriously wouldn't doubt that it'd be the same here, considering how cartoonishly evil he is while wearing the springbonnie suit. the voice changer, the little flourishes he adds to his speech, the fact he wipes off the knife when there wasnt any blood on it in the first place. for what. for what reason other than for pizzazz and intimidation points. the "oh, this is going to be so much fun!" line, and especially his playful demeanor disappearing the second he takes off the mask

he cares about his kids/likes kids - his expression when he stabs vanessa and she falls to the ground says enough i think. obviously hes not a GOOD parent, but being a good parent and caring about your kids are two wildly different things. you can be abusive and still care. most abusers dont process that they are abusers but thats a conversation for another time. william prioritizes himself over anyone else, but he still looks shocked after he stabs his daughter, and i refuse to blame that on bad acting because its MATTHEW LILLARD. the training tape for mike also states that he enjoyed entertaining kids, and yes, while that could be a lie, do you seriously think the creator of what essentially is chuck e cheese would actually despise children. the fact he gives garretts toy plane to vanessa could be a point toward him in this department as well, though its also just as likely he collects them as trophies. i like to think its a mix of both

i included these points specifically because i also have a plethora of evidence for them from both the books and the games, and theyre the ones i most commonly see people stating are unrealistic for afton.

its not a lot of stuff, but its not like he has a lot of screentime. lets be real

i do ADORE how egotistical and shortsighted they made him in the movie, though everyone can generally agree on that being a staple trait of his

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

~ A Lamb Between Wolves |Mon Rêve|

Pairing: Archdeacon! Jungkook x Romani! Fem! Reader

Summary: It all began with a mistake that followed you like a shadow on a sunny day. You crossed paths with the enigmatic Archdeacon of Notre-Dame, Father Jeon Jungkook, who promised to protect you from demons he couldn't fight. 15th Century, Paris. A lie. A stolen heartbeat and a confession that was never heard. He wanted you. You needed him. A secret turned into poison just as fate was cruel and it made him love you. Bounded by his vows and his position, Jungkook could only keep you as close as a dream at his reach. A cruel dream forged in a sanctuary of shadows and thorns.

Warnings: religious themes, dark romance?, forbidden love, AGE GAP (Kook is like 30-ish and oc is in her early twenties), allusions to sex, lust, secrets, angst, fluff, Jungkook is a priest 😳, oc is described as a petite woman, oc is described as being of Romani origin but no physical description is given of her other than her small stature (for canon purposes), (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 1.8k words

A/N: Part 1 of "Mon Rêve" is here as promised darlings! Let me know what you think in the comments! Likes and reblogs are really appreciated.

He remembered the first time he saw her. He remembered the first time he heard her voice. He remembered the way his heart had skipped a beat at the sight of her beauty. He remembered it all. Remembered it with pain and melancholy that burned his soul and clawed at his heart. 

And now, as he looked at her, at you, he couldn’t help but yearn for that forbidden touch. That sinful desire that had consumed his thoughts for so long. A burning passion that he barely kept at bay. A poison that nurtured his heart but killed his soul. 

The first time he saw you was at the marketplace. Your hair, those (h/c) locks flew in the air as you danced. The flowy skirts of your dress lifted from the ground as your bare feet twirled and floated over the cobblestones. It was magical. Like a beacon of hope amidst a storm. He remembered he had wanted you at that moment. You looked so free, so innocent, so beautiful that his mind replayed over and over that day at the marketplace during his dreams. Being both a blessing and a nightmare. 

But Jungkook had a role in society he couldn’t break. He had made vows. He had made a promise. He represented the sanctity of the Church. He was not just a man, he was a beacon of hope for the parishioners of the cathedral. 

The next time he saw you had been during a stormy day. The people had scurried away to seek shelter from the rain and you had run to the cathedral, seeing it as a sanctuary through the grey day that threatened to swallow Paris. 

He saw you from the upper floor, not sure how to approach you as you took a deep breath, shivering due to your wet clothes. He saw your delicate features be illuminated by the soft flames of the many candles that stood proudly among Notre-Dame. You stood there, looking at the imposing cathedral with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. Your hair dripped with the remnants of the water and if he concentrated enough, he could hear the drop hitting the ground. Or maybe that was only his heart thumping wildly in his chest. 

Jungkook descended the stairs, staying hidden in the shadows as he watched with intense eyes and a deep desire that would destroy him if he dared the flames of his passion get tangled with your innocent form. 

“What brings you to the cathedral, my dear?”

You jumped at the sound of the deep voice that belonged to the intimidating Archdeacon of Notre-Dame. You turned around, locking eyes with his tall form cladded in black. The candles sharpened his features and you gulped as you looked up at him. 

“I was seeking refuge from the rain, Father Jeon. Forgive me if I have intruded where I am not welcome.”

You saw his stern features soften slightly yet the intensity in his dark eyes remained. He took a step forward and you forced yourself to stay rooted in your place. His tall, imposing figure made you gulp but you couldn’t break eye contact. Almost as if he had trapped you in a dance you didn’t know you liked to perform as well. 

“Everyone is welcome in the house of God. Now tell me, what’s your name?”

He needed to know. A burning need that travelled down his spine and made his hands itch with the desire of touching your soft-looking skin. 

“(y/n).”

Your voice sounded so soft. So pure. It made him want to listen to it forever. He wanted to hear you sing, wanted to hear you tell him about your day. He wanted to hear you scream  his name if he were to ever make you his and his alone. 

“(y/n)... Come with me, my dear. You’ll catch your death in those clothes.”

Those clothes that were as sinful as the skin of temptation. Your blue skirts were in a darker shade now, but your off-shoulder white blouse did little to keep your dignity to yourself for the fabric was nearly transparent due to the rain. The only thing that kept his eyes from wandering down your chest was your long hair that cascaded down and covered your breasts to some point. 

You followed him as he walked through the nave, the soft padding of your bare feet against the cool floor beneath you matched the rhythmic pattern of your heart. You took a chance to look around, taking in the high ceilings and tinted windows that made colours reflect on the stone floor. The flickering candles cast long shadows that told many secrets among the darkness of the holy place.   

As you trailed behind Father Jeon, the silence between you was almost palpable, broken only by the faint echo of your footsteps. The heavy, rain-soaked air clung to your skin, making you shiver slightly. You couldn’t help but feel a mixture of awe and apprehension as you continued to follow the Archdeacon deeper into the cathedral, each step amplifying the tension that simmered between you.

He led you to a small room off the side of the main hall, a private chamber where the clergy would rest and prepare for services. The room was modestly furnished, with a wooden table, a few chairs, and a wardrobe. The air was warmer here, and you felt a slight relief from the chill of your wet clothes. Jungkook gestured to a chair, his movements calm and collected.

“Sit, (y/n).”

His voice was gentle yet commanding, leaving no room for refusal. You did as he instructed, your heart pounding in your chest. He moved to the wardrobe and pulled out a thick, dark robe, the fabric was soft to the eye and looked up at him as he spoke once more, his deep voice resonated over the room even when he spoke with a softness that contrasted deeply to the way he had spoken to you when he found you at the entrance of the cathedral. 

“This should keep you warm. I will step outside to give you some privacy while you change.”

You nodded, grateful for his consideration. As he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but watch him, the way his robes flowed around him, the way his presence seemed to fill the room and you couldn’t help but notice just how strikingly handsome he was. There was something about him that drew you in, something more than just his position or his authority. It was something far deeper and dangerous to explore. 

Once the door closed behind him, you quickly shed your soaked garments and slipped into the robe. It was far too large for you, but it was dry and warm, and it smelled faintly of incense and something distinctly masculine.A soft knock on the door startled you, and Father Jeon’s voice came from the other side.

“Are you decent?”

“Yes, Father.”

Your response lacked its usual strength. As if something choked your words to stay hidden within the chambers of your heart. 

He re-entered the room, his eyes immediately finding yours. There was a softness in his gaze now, a gentleness that belied the stern exterior he presented to the world. He approached you, his steps slow and deliberate, and took a seat across from you.

“You’re safe here, (y/n). Tell me, what truly brings you to Notre-Dame on a night like this?”

Your heart quickened, you couldn’t answer him that. You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t open your heart to him in that way for you feared he’d cast you away. 

“Because of the rain, Father. My home was far away when the pouring started.”

He eyed you for a moment. As if studying you. In a way, he was. It was late at night, you should have been home by now if what you were saying was true. Not that he didn’t want to believe you. He’d fall on his knees in front of you if you asked him to but he couldn’t yet shake the feeling of something lurking in the shadows. Of something darker and deep threatening to take a hold of him the moment he were to show a bit of vulnerability. Jungkook sighed before he stood up, his silence was killing you and you thought for a second that he was going to tell you to leave. 

“I’ll give you a room for the night. Follow me.”

Wordlessly you obeyed. You followed Jungkook through the dimly lit corridors, your footsteps echoing in the stillness. The vastness of the cathedral seemed to close in around you, each flickering candle casting long, wavering shadows on the stone walls. The silence was almost tangible, broken only by the soft rustle of Father Jeon’s robes and the distant patter of rain against the stained-glass windows. You couldn’t help but feel a mixture of awe, apprehension, and an unsettling undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place.        

He led you to a secluded part of the cathedral, stopping before a heavy wooden door. Pushing it open, he revealed a small, cosy room with a simple bed, a wooden desk, and a small fireplace. The room was modest but exuded a sense of warmth and safety, a stark contrast to the cold, damp night outside.

“You can stay here for the night.”

He said, turning to face you. His eyes lingered on you a moment longer than necessary, a flicker of something dark and intense passing through them before he looked away.

“Thank you. You have given me kindness that I have not found anywhere else.”

His expression softened and he resisted the urge to step forward and embrace your smaller form as you looked at him with wide and sincere eyes that melted his frozen heart. 

“You deserve kindness, (y/n). You can be sure that you are safe within these walls. The cathedral is a place for sanctuary. Let your heart be at ease, my dear.”

You nodded, overwhelmed by his kindness and the emotions coursing through you. As he stepped back and left the room, you noticed the lingering tension in his gaze, a suppressed desire that seemed to simmer just beneath the surface. As you settled into the bed, the fire crackling softly in the hearth, you felt a comfort you hadn’t known in a long time

Father Jeon’s words echoed in your mind as you drifted off to sleep. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt a sense of safety and belonging. Yet, within the walls of Notre-Dame and under the watchful care of the enigmatic Father Jeon, you also sensed an undercurrent of tension—a suppressed desire that left you both intrigued and unsettled.

As you closed your eyes, you couldn’t shake the image of his intense gaze, the power he radiated nor the feeling that beneath his calm exterior lay a storm of emotions waiting to be unleashed.

July/23/2024

~ Masterpost

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

[oneshotnewbie]

heyy!! can i request athena grant x reader where in reader is a doctor and maybe there was some emergency in the hospital that required the police to be involved?? thank u and have a good day!!

Authors note: Unfortunately, I didn't know if you wanted Athena and the reader to possibly be together because you didn't describe it further, so I just went with the idea of the two being together. I hope it's okay ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

You stood nervously in the middle of a secluded examination room, your expression focused as you quickly put on the disposable gloves and prepared yourself for the task at hand. You were assigned an aggressive patient, tormented by pain and under the possible influence of drugs. His gaze is wide open between the gathering of nurses who are trying to hold him down on the stretcher, his pupils dilated and his movements uncontrolled while gesticulating wildly. The man seemed out of control and full of anger, sending a shiver of fear down your spine.

Various utensils were scattered on the floor, and the medical ultrasound machine lay overturned on the floor and yet you approached the patient with calm determination but caution, trying not to be intimidated by his aggression. A tense atmosphere filled the room as you struggled to take the necessary medical measures.

Drawing up a syringe with your shaky hands and keeping it ready to calm the patient down, you knew you had to proceed with caution to avoid escalating the situation as the man uttered unintelligible profanities and tries to break away. In a state of delirious rage, he vehemently resisted the touch and in a sudden rush of aggression, he reached for you and hit you with a powerful punch in the stomach. "Go away! Leave me alone!"

You stumbled back, feeling the sharp pain in your side, but despite the shock and injury, you remained calm and focused. With practiced hands you continued to try to treat the patient, still holding the syringe in your fist, while at the same time he tried to protect himself. "Please calm down, Mr. Johnson. We just want to help you." Another push from him made you fall violently into one of the standing cabinets, the needle of the syringe piercing your thigh.

“Damn,” you groaned, looking down. Luckily the sedative had not come loose due to the impact and was still completely in the syringe, so you had nothing to worry about. However, the relentless beeping of the machines near you worried you.  With a short scream, you quickly pulled the needle from your leg and threw the used syringe into the sink before standing up and looking at your colleagues. "Get the police in here. They should put the guy in chains, it is too dangerous for us.“

One of the male nurses nodded at you and let go of the guy on the lounger. He quickly ran out of the room and let the other sisters fight the man with all their might. Without further ado, he came back with two officers and surprisingly, you looked into the face of your girlfriend and her long-time partner, Officer Rodriquez. „Doctor, how can we support you?“ she asked professionally with a smile on her lips, and you breathed a sigh of relief as you pointed at the young man. A small grin appeared on your face too at the sight of her. She was wearing her uniform, the taser holster already open just in case while gloves were up to her wrists to intervene safely whenever you needed her. "He is very aggressive. We have to give him an injection, but he fights back with all his might."

It was only when you pushed yourself up from your leaning position and hobbled along to the syringes to put on a new one that she noticed that a blood stain had formed on your thigh; showing through your blue pants. "You are hurt, are you okay?" There was concern in her voice that you could clearly hear. Both Athena and her partner cautiously approached Mr. Johnson, trying to calm him down while you prepared the injection of a sedative. However, Athena's gaze was focused on you, demanding an answer. "I am okay, nothing happened."

The police officer was not really convinced by your answer, but would deal with you later and care for you. Officer Rodriguez spoke soothingly to the man, diverting his attention as he helped the nurses hold him on the gurney while you cautiously approached him behind Athena. With the help of the two police officers, you finally managed to calm him down and give the injection. Slowly, Mr. Johnson relaxed, twitching briefly before his anger subsided and his thrashing became weaker until he finally fell into a more peaceful sleep.

Your people exhale in relief as you continue to keep an eye on the patient, watching his heartbeat slow down. "One of you must remain here with the nurses to provide them with protection should he wake up again," you stated as you freed yourself from the utensils you had been using and successfully threw your gloves into the trash can. Before you left the room, you addressed your employees. "He needs to be monitored around the clock. Call me as soon as anything changes in his condition. Give him fluids, a liter of saline to start with."

The door closed behind you and you walked towards a free room to treat your wound. However, before you had even reached your destination, an arm sneaked around your waist as a kiss was planted on your temple. "Hey, 'thena." You whispered, giggling and leaning against her side. Supportively, she helped you into another room where she ordered you to sit down while you told her what you needed to patch yourself up. "How many times have I told you that once you get an aggressive patient, you do not do anything until you call the cops into the room?"

“Often enough,” you admitted, placing a hand over your furrowed brow before standing up and gently brushing your pants down your thigh. "But the work must be done, even under these extremely difficult circumstances." Her head shook several times as she walked towards you and placed the things you needed on the cupboard. Athena took a seat in the chair in front of you and began cleaning the wound with disinfectant.

You clenched your teeth, let out a painful hiss, and squeezed your eyes shut as the cotton pad dipped in alcohol glided over your skin. "'thena, you know that I am actually the doctor, right?" you muttered under you breath and clawed into the foam with all your strength. "Babe, but you know I do not care, right?"

[moldycantaloupe]

I just wanted to write fluffly Swisstom but the brain chemicals made me write spice so now you got both

Phantom was absolutely enamoured with Swiss since their summoning. Well, since after their summoning. During their first week of being Topside, the multi ghoul intimidated them. They’d hiss and bare their fangs towards him every second they could.

But after the initial fear simmered and them starting to ever so slowly open up to the pack, they were enamoured. 

They didn’t know what had possessed them to be so obsessed about him over the entire pack. They would giggle to themselves when they heard him laugh in the next room over, copy his slight and sometimes subtle movements, and focus on the way he carried out tasks. He always had a different approach to jobs than the rest of them; maybe that was one of the reasons. He was just so different.

The need to be seen by him became their only goal at one point. They could be praised all day by the pack, cooed over by the girls and take it with a small blush in the cheeks and a nod. But when they catch the golden eyes of Swiss, the way he smiles at them is so genuine and, oh. The low tone in his voice when he whispers a quiet, “good job,” just above their head. He must know it drives them crazy.

He definitely does know, though. They think. The closer they get to him, the more he makes it obvious. The way he absentmindedly scratches along their horns while deep in conversation with someone else. The way he brushes his hand over their shoulders when he needs to get to the cupboard above them. The way he squeezes their waist when cuddled up together, forcing them to hold back a whine lest they be caught. He does know.

They’re playing a fucked up game of song and dance at this point. A game of who will strike first, who will end all the platonic components of their relationship.

Phantom’s in his room clad only in a tank and boxers, the two of them laying on the floor together. Music was playing in the background, some old album they borrowed (stole) from Sunshine. They’re propped up on their side by their elbow while Swiss laid fully on his back, his face turned towards them. He’s telling a story from the day, his lips curved in a loud smile and his hands flying wildly in the air to illustrate the picture he tries to paint. They can’t focus on it with the way his tail idly wraps and plays with their leg, sliding it up and down in slow movements.

They know they look distracted, with a high blush that reaches past their ears. But his tail travels higher and higher, squeezing and caressing their knee. They squeeze their eyes tight and try to hold back the whimper.

“Ant?” Swiss’ voice breaks through their growing fog and their eyes snap open, the blush growing hotter against their skin as they stare. “What’s up, buggy?”

“I-” his tail squeezes just past their knee and they let out a breathy whine, watching his face fall into a smug look, “Swiss, you’re driving me crazy.”

“Am I?” He teases. The spade of his tail drags along their warm skin. He bends his finger in their direction, beckoning them forward. 

They fumble their way over and land on their hands and knees just above him, their faces mere inches apart. They think it’s unfair how steady his breathing is compared to their ragged inhales.

“Swiss, their eyes flicker to those lips that are still curved in such a shit eating grin and licks their own, “I don’t- I can’t stop thinking about kissing you.” They blurt out.

“Oh, yeah?” His voice grows husky suddenly and the hands from before move to rub against their body, one on their back and one on the back of their thigh. “Are you going to do something about it?”

They surge forward with the permission granted, pride blooming in their chest when they get an undignified grunt out of Swiss. The hand on his back pushes in deeper, forcing them closer as their lips dance messy and uncoordinated against each other.

“Fuck-” Their voice is high and muffled against his lips and their hips twitch to move. “Been wanting you.”

Swiss leans up and breaks their kiss, his tongue immediately darting to suck bruises along their neck. “Me too, doll.”

Phantom’s laugh is breathy and turns into a whine at the tailend, lips trembling when he sucks at their sweet spot on their neck.

“Please, Swiss,” they breathe, knees nearly giving out.

The hand on their thigh travels to their ass and gives a firm squeeze, fingers teasing where they need it most. They let out a surprised moan when those fingers lock into the fabric of their boxers and pull, the inseam hitting their clit spot on. 

“You want this?” Swiss asks against their collarbone, his fangs grazing along their skin.

“So bad,” Phantom hikes their hips up into the fabric to catch that pleasure again, breathing out a heavy noise, “please, I want it so bad.”

“Alright,” he pulls away all forms of contact, laughing at their pout. “On the bed and strip.”

[hellfirecvnt]

You're Just Drunk

Benson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Alcoholism, drinking, angst? MILD fluff? Some secret third thing? High-key OOC Benson. Mentions of suicide and attempting. Y/N is unwell. Bad advice.

Summary: A story about hidden feelings, bad brains, and probably blossoming alcoholism.

It's nearly 2 AM when Benson wakes up to the sound of his phone ringing loudly across the room. Initially, he jumps, leaping awake and forcing himself to be as aware as possible. A symptom of his poorly medicated paranoia and mania. His heart races as he emotionlessly crosses the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Hello?" He speaks groggily, never minding to check who was calling in the first place.

"Hey, man. You gotta get down here."

"What the fuck, man? You know what time it is?" His anger is calm and quiet; covert. "I'm trying to sleep."

"You gotta come get this bitch, dude. She's losing her fuckin' mind." Benson's peer whines into the phone.

"Call the cops." He replies flatly. He's seconds away from slamming the flip-phone closed when he hears a name.

"No, man. It's Y/N!" Your name silences the line for just a few seconds.

"Alright. Give me five." He closes his phone and tosses it on the dresser, raking impatient hands through his hair as he frustratedly searches for a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. Dressed and heading out the door, he opens his phone and checks the time. What could have you out so late, at the local bar, acting so wildly that they've called and outsourced your own ride home, ready or not? The last he heard from you, months and months ago, you were supposed to be doing better. So much so, in fact, that you cut everyone off, including him.

When he pulls into the parking lot, he immediately spots your car. He's expressionless as he stalks toward the entrance. The woman and security guard working the door allow him past, recognizing him as an old regular. You both were. He nods at them as he passes, stepping through a wide doorway into the bar. He carefully scans the room when a loud commotion draws his attention. It's you and a man twice your size, both belligerent, both yelling. He strains to hear what's being said from so far away.

"Don't fucking touch me!" You wave your finger in the man's face.

"For the last time, drop it and shut the fuck up, bitch!" The man yells, towering over you in an attempt to intimidate you. You meet his gaze, too drunk for your own good.

"Fuck you," you hiss, and the man can't hold back; he shoves you harshly, and you drunkenly stumble backward into a table, spilling everything on top. You're just about to return the energy, letting a lifetime of pent-up rage loose on a man who couldn't mind his own personal space, but someone cuts you off, putting themself between you and the tall, violent drunkard.

Benson starts swinging, and he doesn't stop. With each devastating blow, the sickening sound of blood squelching fills the air. It's all you can hear over the screams and prying arms. You're staring in awe, too drunk to process what's happening until you feel yourself being lifted and escorted toward the exit by your arms. "Hey, what the fuck?" You kick and thrash in protest, but you're useless in this condition.

Benson's rage is vile and deafening, and by the time sound reaches his eardrums again, he's bloodied the man unrecognizable and torn his own hand to shreds in the process. "God damn it, Benson. I just wanted you to take her back home." His friend sighs, shoving him out the door with friendly discipline. Tough love. Outside, Benson is annoyed with his own behavior. Who the fuck was he putting his ass on the line for? He flexes his sore, bloody hand and groans.

"Fuck," his attention is drawn in your direction. You're fumbling with your keys, trying to get into your car.

"Hey! Y/N," he calls to you, jogging over to stop your attempted escape. "You can't drive like this. Give me your keys."

"I'm not gonna fucking drive, I just want to sleep. Fuck!" You snap, fighting back the sharp prickle of shameful tears prodding at your eyes. You may stifle the tears, but your flushed face and pursed lips meant to hide the tremble give you away. Benson's face remains flat. Nothing. He scans your face and notes every little tell. He always could.

"Let me take you home," he says, snatching your keys from you once and for all.

"How am I supposed to get my car back?"

"I'll come back to your place and drive you in the morning. Just get in my God damn car." You stare at him. "Please." He finally adds. You silently accept defeat. The drive home starts out quiet and tense. You could slice through the air with a knife. "Long time, no see." He finally breaks the silence.

"Yeah, I... Left town for a while." You furrow your brow, unsure of how much you're willing to share with him right now. When just about a year ago, the two of you were closer than anyone in the entire group of friends you managed to make it through high school with all those years ago. Well known in your small, unimportant town for being misfits and "bad kids." It was common knowledge that Benson would do anything he put his mind to if he was mad enough, and often you wondered what that meant. You've seen him in plenty of fights before, but the way he laid into that man tonight was new. "You really fucked that guy up."

"You didn't have it-" he hesitates, searching for a word. "Under control."

"I didn't think I did."

"Eric called me. He told me to come get you. I didn't show up to play hero." He's driving, but still his refusal to look at you feels intentional.

"Yeah, I guess I was a lot tonight. I don't... I can't really remember anymore." You sigh, settling back in the seat. The smell of his car is nostalgic-feeling to you. The interior is stained with the smell of cigarettes and weed, no doubt causing trouble for him every time he's pulled over.

"You drinking like this a lot?" Benson's eyes narrow in that way that tells you he's bracing a subject that makes him uncomfortable.

"It's just- dont- Look, I'm working through some shit, okay? I don't need a lecture from-"

"From someone who knows you better than you do." He huffs. You don't respond. Instead, you lie your head back against the seat and let your eyes fall closed. You'd always tried to emulate Benson's stoic nature, but you were never as good as he was. Tears always found their way to you the way anger found its way to Benson. The car slows down as the tires crackle the loose gravel against the solid concrete of your driveway. It's silent for a while, and then he speaks again. "You need help gettin' inside?" His words startle you awake, and your reaction is shockingly similar to his when his phone rang only about an hour ago.

"No," you mumble, stumbling out of his car and up to your porch. He's pulled out of your driveway and headed to the culdesac to turn around. The same quickness he arrived with. It'd be a cold day in hell if he made you think tonight meant anything to him. That the fact that he's who Eric called meant anything. That you were in his passenger seat again. Emotionless as always, his mind races until a shining object in his cup holder grabs his eye. Your keys.

"Fuck," he curses, frustrated and ultimately unbelievably tired. He quickly whips the car back into your driveway as he emerges from the turnaround. At first, he doesn't see you, but as he steps closer, hoping to leave your keys on your porch, he spots you. You're curled up in an uncomfortably cold-looking situation, sitting on your stairs, leaning against the railing. You're out cold. "Hey," nothing. "Y/N, come on. Just get to your couch or something." He lightly shakes you, closing the awkward gap between you. "Hey..." he notices your dramatic makeup streaking down your cheeks with fresh tears, but still you remain unconscious.

Benson unlocks your door and for a moment, takes in the subtle differences of your house. The small way it's changed over the months apart. The way it's changed after you moved and came back. At least your family held off on selling the place. That totally didn't feel like a giant I-told-you-so or anything like that, by the way. He carries you to your bedroom and lays you on the bed. Annoyed, he pries your shoes off and tosses a small throw blanket over you before heading to your bathroom to wash his throbbing hand. The cool water runs over his open wounds and the soap burns like needles, but his face displays no more than the slightest twitch of his lip. With his hands clean and dry, he makes his way out of your room, reaching for the light switch when he hears your voice.

"Benson?" You question, unsure if running into your old friend was a dream or not.

"Yeah," he says after debating for a moment. He almost just leaves after that, hopeful that you'll fall asleep and he can help you figure your shit out with your car tomorrow.

"I'm sorry."

"Go to sleep," Benson speaks with a low, quiet voice, reaching again for the light switch only to be interrupted.

"Don't go." Your words sound pathetic to your own ears, but you just don't care.

"Y/N."

"Just- don't- just don't go. Stay here for a minute." You say all of this with your head still buried in your pillows, eyes closed, tears falling. Benson leans in the doorway. He tosses up a hand as if he's torn, and taps at the knit on his brow as he thinks. Already knowing he's about to give in, he sighs.

"Alright. Just... Go the fuck to sleep." He finally flips the light off and disappears down the hall, headed for the living room. You always had a large, comfortable couch, so it's not putting him out to crash here for a night. All he wants is to sleep. He didn't ask for any of this. He grabs a blanket from the recliner and flops onto the sofa, settling in with a quickness. Shoes off and cardigan tossed aside, he bundles himself in the soft covers and closes his eyes. Over and over, he tries to force himself into long-awaited sleep, but all he can see are the tears slipping from under your closed eyes, muddied with eyeliner and mascara. Benson eventually manages to sleep for at least an hour before his body wakes him up, stirring his mind with worry and paranoid thoughts.

Without giving it much consideration, Benson makes his way down the hall, just to check in on you. The little episode he'd let out at the bar has his brain running on high. When he pokes his head in, you've seemed to have gotten up and changed into pajamas at some point while he slept. He wonders if you even knew he was out there, staying like you asked. It pisses him off at himself how badly he wants you to remember he stayed because you asked. Your face is washed too, clear of the dragged markings left behind from dried tears, but still, they fall, just a little less visible. Benson can't imagine and doesn't really want to know anything about your time away from home, not unless you want to share it. All he knows is you got knocked down further than you needed. Much further. It's uncomfortable for him to see you so vulnerable. He's seen you drunkenly cry a plethora of times, but this feels different. Heavier.

After a few seconds of watching your breathing shudder as you sniffled, he left the room. He snatches the blanket from the couch and returns to you, climbing into your bed. There's a respectable gap; after all, he's not about to come cuddle you while you cry. He knows you're better than that. Yet his gesture feels intimate enough, even as he rolls over, and faces his back toward you. It's like coming home. It reminds you of when you two were teens and you kissed one time at a concert and never talked about it again, but thought about it almost every day. Benson did too. Albeit a little more strangely obsessive, hence the grudge he held when you left.

"I'm sorry," you mumble and he's unsure if you're awake at all.

"Shh, go to sleep." He closes his eyes, sleep finding him peacefully quickly compared to the distant couch.

"I wasn't trying to cause an episode tonight." You speak through a hiccup. "I just needed a drink."

"Y/N, go to sleep." He insists, already aware of the way you'll regret this vulnerable behavior in the morning. Your levels of hangxiety could be studied by scholars.

"I've always done this to you." All of this being said with your eyes sealed shut and a small semblance of drool pooling by your mouth on the pillows.

"You're just drunk," he whispers, truthfully just desperate to get some shut-eye. He gives your arm a reassuring squeeze before turning on his side. You both lie back to back, close enough to feel each other's body heat.

"I didn't come home because I couldn't make it on my own," you're suddenly very spry. You prop yourself up on an elbow and speak into the dark room, still not facing him. Benson releases another heavy sigh, knowing you're just getting started with this monologuing behavior. But he can't lie, his interest is piqued. He's been wondering about you this whole time.

"No one thought that," he responds flatly, his voice is hoarse with exhaustion. You steady yourself, still blackout drunk.

"When I left, my new life was everything I dreamed of," you start. Immediately, Benson raises an eyebrow, listening. "But I kept... I don't know how to explain it. Things would go so good, and I'd keep fucking it up." He listens silently the entire time you drone on, misusing words in your drunken confession of what all went wrong. The way an unchecked rage boiled inside you and it spilled over at the smallest inconveniences. You even venture as far as to say you came so close to hurting others physically, that it made you want to take your own life to prevent any sort of irreversible damage. You couldn't keep a job, forget any kind of relationship. It became a Hell you put yourself in. Benson stifles a scoff.

He wonders why you feel so ashamed of the emotions that other people cause. In a perfect world, there'd be no need to hurt anyone. But war exists, and death exists, and murder exists. You didn't invent it, why would you punish yourself for the way it fills your veins when someone gets in your face? He shakes the emotions and hopes from his mind and flattens his face in an eerie ritual of cracking his neck.

"After the overdose, my aunt and uncle said I could just keep living here if I came back home. C-Closer to everyone." Now all he can imagine is your unconscious body on a bathroom floor, miles and miles away from him. And he never knew a thing. All those adolescent years together, figuring out life, and he would've had to hear about your death in the obits. It enrages him to imagine. Like he's incapable of any other emotion. They all just come out as blood-simmering lividity.

"Please, get some goddamn rest, okay?" He speaks through gritted teeth and you let your elbow down, collapsing onto the mattress and falling into silence. Benson isn't tired anymore; he's wide awake, and he lies there with his brows arched, staring directly at the wall. How could he not know this about you, of all people? How had you successfully masked such an important part of yourself? And then he realizes he's been doing the exact same thing. None of your friends know Benson keeps a shotgun in the back of his car solely for the off chance that he might snap. It looms over him the way it slips out of you. Being away from home must've made it harder to keep bottled. Amateur, he thinks.

The next morning, you pry your eyes open against the harsh morning light, emitting a pitiful groan as you do. You sit up, rubbing your head and looking around your bedroom, confused. You notice a brunette head of hair facing away from you, lying peacefully on the other side of your bed. You scrunch your face, afraid of what kind of weirdo came home with you. You're about to draw back and kick him out of the bed, but then you notice your two separate blankets. You look down, and you're wearing normal sleepwear, not "fuck me" pajamas. When you glance back over to the man in your bed, you instantly recognize everything about his outline.

"Benson?"

"Morning."

"You're in my house," you say, suddenly embarrassed by the half-unpacked moving boxes scattered about your home. Though few and far between.

"Yeah. I'm in your house." He rises from the bed and sits right across from you, one leg hanging off the side, like a symbolic foot out the door. Slowly your memories return to you bit by bit, with large empty gaps in-between. But you remember why he stayed.

"I asked you to stay, I didn't think you would." You'd never be able to notice the light behind Benson's eyes as you say this, but it's there nonetheless.

"Well, you weren't having a great night." He stands from the bed, stretches, and sits back down, reaching for his shoes. "We can go get your car whenever you're ready." He's tying his laces as you stare into nothing, gathering your memories amidst the worst headache of your life.

"Yeah. Thanks." You slip into the master bathroom to get ready for the day, washing your face and staring at the dark circles below your eyes. With a sigh, you splash water in your face. After your morning ritual, you're looking a little brighter, but no less hungover. Benson's waiting in the living room when you return to your bedroom. You get dressed quickly and throw a pair of sunglasses over your darkened eyes.

In the car, more and more memories from last night resurfaced. You place a tense hand on your forehead, leaning against the window as you recall the way you cried to your estranged friend. A friend who didn't want to be there in the first place. "Um, Benson. About last night-"

"Forget about it."

"I was just drunk, and-"

"Would you just drop it, Y/N?" He chuckles, never averting his eyes from the road. "Whatever you've got going on," he pauses for a moment. "Stop crying about it."

"I wasn't gonna cry! I was gonna beat that guy's ass and sleep in my car." You argue.

"Oh, you were gonna beat his ass?" Benson asks, fully laughing now.

"Of course I wasn't! You know what I was doing. Fuck." You resign.

"Yeah, getting your face beaten in as an act of self-destruction doesn't really cut it at our age anymore." His voice is cold and factual. He's reeling in his guffawing laughter, trying to regain a sense of seriousness. "You hate how angry you are, but you don't care if it gets you killed."

"Oh, my fucking god. He wasn't going to kill me. Please don't choose now to do one of your mellow dramatic monologues." You pinch the bridge of your nose. "You're worse than me after too many shots."

"Am I wrong?" He asks, suddenly much more intense than before. His voice is rough and his eyes have widened. You narrow your eyes at him, clocking this switch right off the bat. It's familiar. "Am I wrong, Y/N?" He asks again, truly wondering if you think he's wrong about your passive death wish. He pulls the car into the other lane, driving into oncoming traffic. Luckily, the road is nearly never busy.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?" You exclaim, hoping he'll have time to swerve if someone were to appear around a corner. He's driving fast and recklessly. Your pulse begins to race. "Benson, okay! I get the point, stop the car!" You cloak your panic in anger, as always. Laying into him so hard, a stranger would think you're enemies.

As he rounds a wide turn, a semi-truck comes into view. It blows a billowing horn, begging even harder than you, for Benson to get out of the way. "Fuck," you mumble, squeezing your eyes shut and accepting what's to come. Never thinking to wonder why, only accepting an early fate the best way you can. Just as the truck's horn became unbearably loud, Benson jerks the car to the side, missing the large 18 wheeler by what felt like mere inches.

"Nothing's worse than you after too many shots." He cuts, and for some reason, it does sting a little. A reminder of your already self-perceived burdensome existence, even with your veins pumping full of adrenaline. You're shaken up, but you recall that kind of strange behavior from your youth together. Though, it was usually less horrifying from the sidelines.

"What the fuck was that, man? Fuck." You breathe heavily.

"You're not fearless. And you're not indestructible." He lights a cigarette and cracks his window about an inch. The smoke flies out into the wind as he exhales. "Get your kicks without getting your teeth knocked out." He laughs through a cloud. "Or stop holding yourself back. Either way, don't get yourself killed." There's a certain amount of weight on that "don't."

Finally, he pulls his car into the parking lot of the bar, and you confidently mask any embarrassment that might still remain after your little outburst last night. He pulls up next to your car and you step out, stopping to respond as you stand outside the passenger side door.

"Thanks, Benson. A game of chicken with a semi is a pretty crazy way to start the day." You laugh, something that always comforts him. His inability to run you off until you did, in fact, run off.

"I'm a visual teacher." He grins. "Aren't you happy to be alive?" He asks, cockily. You pause for a moment before answering.

"No," you say, flat out. "Come to my house for a drink sometime, I'm probably not allowed back here anymore." You smirk, closing the door before he can make a fake excuse about how it'll never happen, all the while knowing full well that he'll be at your place by tomorrow.

[vllergy]

painkillers

vesen request, 2.1 k, cold fic ty to @scatter-snz for this elite prompt i hope this is what u had in mind!!! jin-young is a cop (he has the kink because of who i am as a person) vesen is a big tall hot alien assassin aliens and humans are working together but it's still pretty new and things are awkward jin and vesen 100% fall in love with each other eventually that's basically all you need to know

It's Jin's first day being back after a record two days off. In his six years on the force, he can't remember the last time he took actual sick leave. To be fair, he doesn't get sick that often and when he does, he's aways been the type to grin and bear it. Part upbringing, part police conditioning. If you're not dead, you're fit to serve. Or at least that's the way it always has been. The Kheelen changed that. Human officers aren't spread thin these days due to the partnering initiative. So his cases that would have once fallen to the wayside in his absence now fall to his partner, Vesen. And he's expected to trust that his taciturn, ill-mannered Kheelen counterpart can handle that shit on his own when Jin is otherwise indisposed.

For the most part, Jin does. Vesen may be an ass, but he's a competent investigator. Unfortunately, he and Jin's methods when it comes to gathering information are still wildly disparate. Something he knew, but didn't truly understand the consequences of until now as he sits across their latest subject in the interrogation room.

In the two days Jin took to nurse the cold from hell, it seems Vesen has taken it upon himself to put the fear of God into this man.

The man is visibly sweating. His eyes are only focused on Jin, though every so often they twitch Vesen's direction only to snap back as if his very image is a chemical burn. His cuffed hands tremble on the steel surface of the table and he picks at his cuticles the longer they sit there. Jin doesn't blame him, necessarily. Vesen is, objectively, terrifying. Even just sitting like this you can tell he's the apex predator in the room. He's so much bigger than both Jin and the other man--he overpowers the chair and the room itself, looking comically oversized for the entire thing. Jin thinks all the Kheelen look a little silly in the human precinct, actually. Crunching themselves into tiny desks, massive hands cupping small coffee mugs, ducking under doorways--it'd be laughable if they weren't all sure the Kheelen would crush their skulls for even a giggle about it. Jin sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Intimidating is usually an advantage in an interrogation, but whatever Vesen's done to this guy over the past two days has pushed it over the line. He's not just intimidated, he's shitting his pants. There's no way they're getting through to him now. And frankly? Jin is too tired to rectify the situation. He's still not feeling great. His head is fuzzy and dulled, his painkillers are wearing off, and part of him knows he should be back in bed. But he's legitimately worried Vesen will frighten this man to death if he leaves him alone with him for any longer, and that's a bad look for everyone. Sniffing softly, Jin blinks and tries another tactic. "We want to help you, Anish."

Vesen scoffs at this, and Jin just barely manages not to roll his eyes. "But you have to give us something to work with," he continues.

Anish shivers and shakes his head, "It doesn't matter! You know it doesn't! These bastards are taking over and they're just pretending to play nice until they don't have to anymore." Oh boy, here we go. Vesen's hackles rise, just as Jin expects. The alien leans forward, a muscle in his jaw jumping. Artificial light flickers over his lilac skin and makes his dark hair shine like ink. "You dare insinuiate my people are not here out of good faith?" he hisses, sharp canines flashing, "When you are accused of aiding in a terrorist attack against them?" Jin reaches out for his arm. Down, boy. His fingers drift over steel muscle beneath Vesen's uniform as he tries to tug him back into his seat. He's about to say something to try and reign him in when he realizes with sudden horror that he's about to sneeze instead. "Hhh?" He quickly turns away, angling himself away from the table and steepling his hands over his nose and mouth. His eyebrows crash together as an embarrassingly sharp breath snags in his lungs before-- "chhSH’iew!!"

And it's never just one. "CHshISHh’iu!"

Two is actually pretty good for him, especially with this fucking cold. He gives a tentative sniffle before raising his head and clearing his throat. The tickle abates for the moment, but he can feel it buzzing dully in the back of his sinuses, tickling in the corners of his eyes. Ordinarily, he wouldn't care. Sneezing in public isn't his favorite thing, given how he feels about the activity in general, but he's never been good at stifling so it's not something that can be avoided. But sneezing in front of Vesen is a new hell in and of itself. Without even looking, he can feel the intensity of his partner's gaze on him and it makes heat begin to crawl up his throat. Fucking hell. "Excuse me," he says with a soft sniff and clears his throat again.

At the very least, he's dispelled the tension. "Arguing about who started what or whose intentions are genuine isn't going to get us anywhere. So let's not even get into that," he says, sending Vesen a warning glance. Vesen, he suddenly notes, is staring directly at his nose. For some reason that revelation sets off a nuclear detonation in Jin's lower belly and all the blood in his body rushes south. Self-consciously, Jin rubs at his nostrils and tries to think about anything else. But that only aggravates the dormant tickle, and he has to press his tongue to the roof of his mouth to curb the impulse. "Fine," Vesen hisses, turning his eyes back to Anish, "Then let us stick to the facts." Anish gulps. Jin strokes a finger down the datapad in front of him, bringing up a few files. They could pin Anish with his money transfer trail. Or his text messages. He and Vesen haven't which way they were going to do this--they hardly ever agree anyway--but he shifts the pad closer to his partner so that he can look too. "The facts are, you are a coward, Anish," Vesen suddenly purrs, "And you will not survive a week in prison if I put you there." Jin could strangle him. He does roll his eyes this time and looks toward the ceiling, as if asking some higher power for the strength not to. "What my partner means is that you nee--" The bright lights overhead tease the last bit of the tickle out at the most inopportune time. The fuzzy, static feeling inside his head snaps like someone struck a bolt of lightning into the middle of his face. He whips to the side, his elbow in front of him and his hand braced on his opposite shoulder. "Hh--excuse meehh'IIsHH!"

He mists the inside of his elbow, shakes his head softly and then gears up for another. His breath stumbles, eyelashes fluttering. "Are you going to continue sneezing?" Vesen deadpans. "Hhhuh?" Jin blinks blearily, his cheeks going red as he tries--unsuccessfully--to pinch off the next one, "nnTTchSHH'iu!"

"Madrax. What is that inane human saying? Bless you, Jin-young."

Vesen stands as Jin pulls a crumpled tissue from his pocket and tends to his nose. In the next second, he feels his collar being tugged and himself yanked up from his chair. Feet stumbling under him, he struggles to get his balance for a moment until Vesen's large hand steadies him at the small of his back. Vesen's low voice simmers with what sounds distinctly like a threat, "We will return, Anish. Make yourself comfortable."

Then, before Jin knows what's happening, he's being guided out of the interrogation room and back into the hall. The door shuts and Vesen's hand retreats from his back. In a moment, the alien is towering before him, arms crossed over his broad chest and staring down imperiously at him. "Jin-young," he says disapprovingly. Jin blows his nose softly and retrieves another crumpled tissue. "Vesen."

"You are still ill." "I'm on the tail end of it."

"I do not wish to work with you when you are not well."

Jin scoffs, dabbing at his red nostrils, "I thought the Kheelen didn't get sick. I'm pretty sure you can't catch this."

"It is not my well-being I am concerned for."

Jin's eyebrows shoot skyward. Vesen, concerned for someone besides himself? No fucking way. He might have said as much if his nostrils didn't suddenly swell double. He crushes the tissue to his nose and mouth to muffle a tired sneeze.

"hdj'SHMMf!!"

"Bless you."

Jin blinked and gasped, "Hh'chhmpf!"

"Bless you."

Jin adjusts the tissue to try and find a dry spot, missing the next sneeze entirely and directing it to the floor. "You don't have to say it every ti-hiime--hhCH'ISSH'iu!"

"And why not? Bless you. You said it is something humans say when another sneezes. You are sneezing, are you not?"

Jin blushes darkly as he attends to his nose. Does Vesen have any idea what he was doing to him? Clearly not, or else he'd be raking him over the fucking coals for it. But somehow him being oblivious is making it so much worse. "Look who's suddenly so concerned over human-Kheelen relations," Jin gripes hoarsely, trying desperately to deflect. Anything to stop talking about him sneezing and Vesen blessing him. He'd rather be waterboarded. "You should go home, Jin-young." "And leave you to eat our sole witness alive? I don't think so." Vesen bristled, "You doubt my abilities."

"If we were torturing the guy? Not for a second. But we're trying to get him to talk to us, Ves." "Ah yes, and sneezing at him incessantly is doing the job just as well. Perhaps there is some merit to that," Vesen leans forward, grinning, "You look so unspeakably pathetic that he might take pity on you and finally tell us the truth."

Jin tosses his sodden tissues in the nearby wastebin and scrubs at his face.

"Fuck you," he groans, "Can we just go back and get this over with?"

"No, you are going home."

Vesen grabs his upper arm, his grip like a vice. Jin never really forgets how strong the Kheelen are, but every so often a brazen display hubles him completely. Vesen steers him effortlessly back down the hall without any hope of him struggling against him. "Wait, Vesen, c'mon--" He struggles anyway, just on principle. But a moment later he yanks on his grip unintentionally as he wrenches away from him with another ill-timed sneeze. "Hh'CHISSihuh!" He nearly bends double on that one and Vesen abruptly pulls him to a stop. The alien holds fast to his arm as if he can sense that Jin is going to lose his balance if he's not tethered to anything. "hah'hhCHHishh! iSSCchuh!" His ears begin to ring. Distantly, he's aware of Vesen's other hand bracing against his shoulder. That second point of contact sets his blood on fire. Before he can think too hard about that, another sneeze tickles the inside of his sinuses and he attempts to smother it with his free hand, "PpshhiSHHch!"

"Bless you," Vesen sighs as Jin straightens back up wearily, "Are you finished?"

"Yes," Jin lies and then shakes his head rapidly, turning away and pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger, "NnghsSHH'iu!"

Vesen taps his shoulder. It almost feels...sympathetic?

"Go home, Jin-young. I will wait until you are well again to interrogate our witness."

Jin sniffles and glances up with watering eyes. "W-wait, really?" It's an unexpected gesture of charity from Vesen who has been historically uncharitable all the time he's known him. He narrows his glassy eyes, skeptical. Or at least, he tries to look skeptical despite the fact that his heart is in his throat because Vesen is still holding onto him and just watched him sneeze his head off with rapt, disgustingly erotic attention. "What's the catch?" "There is no catch. Just go before I lose my patience," Vesen said.

Jin knows better than to argue with that. Vesen is someone who loses his patience extraordinarily quickly, and it's never pretty. If he's giving him an out, Jin might as well take it.

Sniffling, Jin nods and gives him a tiny salute, "Thanks, Ves."

Vesen finally lets go of him. He grunts in response, gives him one last unreadable glance, and then turns on his heel. Before Jin can say anything else, his impossibly tall figure disappears back down the hall towards the interrogation room.

Jin isn't totally sure, but he thinks Vesen might not be such a bad guy after all.

That, and he's suddenly unreasonably horny.

[theambitiouswoman]

How do I overcome self-esteem issues in dating?

Growing up, I don't have pretty privilege like some of my girl friends do, and guys normally would not approach me because I come across as "intimidating" (I have a RBF). I've approached guys I had crushes on at school but I always get rejected, they say that I'm better as a friend than a romantic partner.

I thought my luck finally turned around when I met my ex on a dating app. He checked off many things on my list e.g., successful career, financially independent, exercises regularly and takes care of himself. But after several months I realized that he only dated me because he was lonely and it was convenient for him. He didn't want to commit to me when I asked for something serious. I was crushed. I felt like I was undeserving of love and am convinced that I'll never find someone who will accept me as a partner because I'm not my type's type.

I'm trying to pick myself back up again. I started going to the gym, doing proper skincare, eating healthier, and dressing up better to feel good about myself. But I still find myself secretly hoping for the validation of successful and attractive men when I'm in social settings, as if that proves that I am an equal or "at their level".

I'm aware that this mindset is toxic but I'm struggling to find an effective way to grow out of it. Appreciate your thoughts on this.

Hi beautiful girl

I just want to say how much I admire your self awareness and the effort you’re putting into bettering yourself. It makes you stand out in the best way 🤍 It’s so hard to be dedicated to growth when we don’t feel our best. Use this as a building block for your confidence in case no one has ever told you.

Now, let’s talk about this whole “pretty privilege” thing. Yes, some girls might have an easier time getting attention, but attention and genuine connection are two very different things. You’re not looking for surface level validation—you’re looking for someone who truly sees you & trust me, that’s worth way more than a few extra DMs from guys who just like a pretty face who want you for bad reasons. Pretty privilege is not just about looks and I hate how much the internet emphasizes it. Because pretty privilege is also about your confidence and self respect. How tall you stand. How you put yourself together. How you treat others. I see countless girls who aren’t wildly attractive by societal standards who get treated with “pretty privilege” and you know why? Because they are confident.

I totally get the frustration of feeling like you’re “not your type’s type,” but that’s just a story your past experiences have made you believe—it’s not a fact. First of all, men don’t date who they want, they date at the level of their self esteem. I’ve said this many times before and I’ll repeat it. Men literally never know what they want. Anything you hear men say that they do, it really means the opposite. I’ve never seen this not be true. Because men will always cling to a woman who makes them FEEL, since men have so much trouble with emotion. The right person will find you incredibly attractive, not just in looks but in energy, presence, and personality. You already have so much to offer & you don’t need to prove your worth to anyone, especially men who don’t recognize it. So instead of worrying about if a guy likes you, ask yourself if you like him. Learning to disconnect from the approval of others is important for confidence. And if you approve of yourself, you don’t care what other people think.

You’re already doing amazing things for yourself—the gym, skincare, eating well, dressing up—and that’s exactly where your focus should be. Instead of seeking validation, shift the energy into being the woman you admire. And when you walk into a room, don’t wonder if successful men will notice you—ask yourself, Do I even find them impressive? (promise most aren’t lol — you’re going to have to trust me on this) Do they bring the same value to the table that I do? That little mindset shift will change everything.

Become your own biggest fan. Ask yourself, If no one could see or comment on what I do, would I still want to do it? If the answer is yes, that’s self approval. Unfollow or distance yourself from anything that makes you feel like you need to prove your worth. Instead of trying to impress others, focus on whether they impress you. The most magnetic people are unapologetically themselves. Thats incredibly hot. And everyone is drawn to a woman whose life revolves around herself. Seriously that’s all you’re missing!!! You’re doing so great!

Decenter everyone and center yourself!

You’re not behind, you’re not lacking and you’re absolutely deserving of a love that feels easy, mutual, and aligned. Keep growing, keep glowing and trust that the right people will come into your life because of the confidence and self worth you’re building—not because of how much you chase external validation.

Love you, most of these guys don’t deserve you anyway. Especially with all of the work you’re doing for yourself. Too good for most. A man needs to earn you and work twice as hard to keep you. And men love working for something babygirl.