#in case you wondered why I was gone these past few days

[ro-is-struggling]

Yesterday I finally got the chance to see 5sos live

I finally got the chance to heal my teenage self that cried her eyes out when she missed the first concert they did in argentina back in 2017 and it's such a wonderful feeling

I have no words to describe how happy I am. The show was AMAZING, it was everything that I hoped and more! I love 5sos so much💕

[teeskzagain]

pov: bully!perv wooyoung couldn’t resist an opportunity to mess with you

warnings: brief mentions of bullying (nothing severe), mentions of sexual frustrations, elements of cnc (but again, nothing extreme), fingering, mutual masturbation, “unwanted” ejaculation on to reader, public sex, like a smidge of fluff? take it or leave it, desperate woo (my fav actually) minor tit play.

wc: ~ 3.2k words

a/n: yk, i find it funny how i always try to make quick drabbles, but somehow it always gets turned in 1k and up fics…….anyways, enjoy!

taglist: @hwasbbyg @velvetmoonlght @blackp1nkfan @gigikubolong29 @solarhwa

imagine bully!perv wooyoung, who’s been sexually frustrated for the past few days, grumbling softly to himself. He hops up onto his usual bus route, the one he takes after a dance lesson, with pure agony and dread.

not only is he ticked off at how shitty his sex life’s been going (he was supposed to meet up with a girl tonight, yet she flaked) but now he has to endure a 40 minute long ride back to his home city with a currently dead phone. how annoying.

scuffling down the aisle, he continues to mumble about these facts whilst darting his lower lip out in a pouty way. there wasn’t many people occupying the front section of the bus, and so as he’s getting ready to take a seat nearby, he spots something that makes his whole body go rigid.

you. near the back. staring idly out of the window. hands clasped together, watching the nightly glow from outside. wooyoung cocks his head to the side. what are you doing here? had you always taken this route and he’s never noticed before? but that couldn’t have been the case, surely he would’ve recognized you at some point during his few weeks of riding the bus here and back home.

wooyoung mulls this thought over.

well, knowing you, you’d probably ride all the way back on the dirty bus floor if it meant completely evading him.

he seriously wouldn’t put it past you to do such a thing. the dynamic between you two has always been skewed since the start of university. it’s almost laughable the extreme measures you’ve gone to stay out of his vicinity, though, wooyoung somehow always finds a way to taunt you.

and just like that, his lips form into a crude smile. he knows that you dislike him to no end. he knows you always try to avoid him at all costs. and, yeah, maybe he’s a little crass acting when he’s around you, but you make your hatred towards him so obvious it’s sort of hard not to take advantage of that. hence, the constant teasing courtesy of him.

and yet, he also knows that the work uniform you’re currently wearing is doing wonders for him right now. a pretty pastel dress that stops mid-thigh, with a crisp white collar around your neck. how it curves at your chest so nicely.

the way it cinches your waist, practically sculpting your body in perfect portions that he’s honestly never seen you in such a way before. makes him practically want to start salivating.

imagine bully!perv wooyoung, who’s just been so damn horny that he’s willing to do anything for a release. a chance to expel some of that pent up stress he’s been feeling, at least what he’s been feeling for tonight.

which is why moments later, you find the vacant spot right next to you now being occupied with a body. a body, that at the recognition of his face, makes you visibly shudder in disgust.

wooyoung wastes no time in sparking up conversation, though it comes off as one-sided with your lack of participation. he wouldn’t expect anything less from you. he deems your cold act towards him something that intrigues him. a challenge almost. and he wants to see you break.

“y/n….you’re so quiet today.” he remarks more towards himself as he watches you closely, “something on your mind?”

you drag the lower part of your lip into your mouth in attempt to distract yourself from this bastard. gosh, does he just get off on messing with you?

at the beacon of silence, wooyoung prompts more questions and even leans in to further accentuate his presence, “yah, you know it’s rude to ignore someone when they’re talking to you right? i’m your senior too, so treat me with more respect.”

without turning too much towards him, you partly twist your body and speak quietly. you didn’t wish to cause a scene, “stop it.”

ah, now he’s got you.

“i’m just pointing out that you’re a bad junior. what, does that bother you?” he raises an eyebrow with the question, and in turn has to hide the spreading smile on his face as your body does yet another scootch towards him.

“will you please be quiet?” your somber voice ends with a bite, doing a quick glance over your shoulder.

he digs further, “i’m wanting to talk with my favorite, little y/n, and here you are. acting so cruel to me. really, it’s hurtful-”

“jung. wooyoung.” you snap, shifting once again so you’re currently chest to chest with your classmate. as your gaze bores deeply into his own, you can see a mix of emotions radiating in the center of his pupils.

“yeah?” wooyoung stares you down with a sinister grin, happy to get some sort of reaction out of you.

he isn’t sure how sex deprived he is, but just hearing you say his name already sends a wave of arousal surging through him.

your lip twitches out of annoyance. there’s more words threatening to spill from your tongue, but it’s like nothing wants to come out, so for a moment you're quiet. eyes scattering around, you eventually break eye contact with wooyoung and gaze your attention downwards.

though when you finally avert your eyes, your breath quickly catches when you spot a large lump resting idly within his baggy joggers. a small, 'hip' leaves your throat.

wooyoung follows your eye line, then lets out a soft chuckle once he sees what is you’re gaping at. yeah, sporting a half chub right now probably isn’t the best look. but if he’s being completely honest, he’s getting harder at the fact you’re straight up gawking at him.

“oh, right.” he begins to half-comment, then does a quick peep at you, “this is kinda your fault, just so you know.”

"huh?" skittishly, you go to look at him before turning away as embarrassment floods your skin after getting caught staring.

wooyoung tucks in his lips to suppress an affection grin, him reaching a hand up to tug at your dress. he tries to gain your attention once more, “come on, don’t act stupid.”

he closes the space between you two as he continues to press you for another clapback. in response, you tuck your face into your shoulder and create a shield from him. but, wooyoung’s relentless.

his hand on your dress turns into a hand on your thigh. he grips your flesh with a sing-song voice until you eventually look back at him. as he continues to spew comments, you couldn’t help if your eyes caught a glimpse of the now fully erected bulge protruding through the fabric.

he’s quick to notice this and calls you out on your glances, “you wanna see it or something?”

horror washes over you face. you begin to stammer in protests, asking him why he would say such a thing and that he’s being inappropriate.

a hearty laugh bellows from wooyoung. god, does he find you cute. so dumb, yet so cute. keeping his grasp on you, he begins to slouch further into the bus seat while he spreads his legs out. his knee accidentally knocks into yours just as he rolls his neck in your direction.

“seriously, you want to?” he waits for response but as you go to shake your head, he’s already reaching for your hand, “y/n, i think you’re a fucking perv.”

“w-wooyoung, what the hell?.” you fight to take your hand off of his crotch, but he simply fights right back, keeping a strong hold on your fingers. in no time, he drops your hand on top of his clothed hard-on and forces you to rub him.

"let me go!" you hiss, but the request goes ignored. he’s enjoying your struggle, your combat against him.

in an almost exaggerated manner, he starts to accentuate his hip rolls against your touch. it begins as a joke, with him enjoying your bewildered expression at his actions. but quickly does he start to lavish in the desperate heat he’s been feeling all night, “oh fuck. y/n, you always touch guys like this?”

the nerves in your fingers feel electrified, almost like a buzz when he’s teasing you. the sensation is foreign. you want to scrunch your face in disgust at his gratification. scream help at the other three people who sat towards the front of the bus, oblivious to what’s happening.

however, you can recognize what the worst feeling was. the fact that through it all, a tiny pulse begins to build between your legs. how badly you hated this, you hated him, and yet, that’s the very thing turning you on. what is wrong with you?

the realization of his hard length being dragged against your fingers brings you back, as you start to register the slickness coating your skin. wooyoung darts a tongue out and flings his head back, exposing the vast area of his neck. he’s got a small smile on his face, “go inside my pants.”

“you’re disgusting….” sneering, you glare deeply at the boy who’s simply basking in the pleasure you’re providing. he feels your stare and you watch him slightly tilt his head down, the little hairs on his forehead falling forward.

“do you really think that?” his voices pipes up at the end before giving you a smug look, “you think i’m so bad?”

and right as you go to confirm those thoughts, a quick motion cuts you off. soon, you feel pressure from underneath your dress, then against your underwear; he’s now pressing his fingers on top of your cunt.

“cause if i didn’t know any better,” he removes his hand from your area and decides to shove it in your face, “you fucking like this.”

the movement startles you briefly and it takes a second for your eyes to focus. though as soon as your vision clears, you see wet fingers staring back at you. it causes your breath to hitch, “i don’t.”

“bullshit.” he dives his hand back under your dress, ready to collect more slick, and involuntarily you clasp your thighs around his hand. eyes squeezed shut, the moment contact was made, you’re brimming with sensitivity.

he watches you intensely. now that you have him trapped, he takes the time to start grazing the fabric of your panties, beginning at a leisure pace. wooyoung leans his head close to your ear and starts to murmur, “right. you clearly hate this.”

with each stroke his fingers get wetter. with each massage his dick gets harder, if that’s even possible. and with each rub, he sees your body beginning to relax into his touch. your shoulders droop, your body slouches deeper into him, and he can see your chest heaving up and down lowly. you’re such a liar.

“oh, god.” you mumble, and wooyoung has to stop a groan from leaving him at your current state. you’re succumbing to him so well, so easily. he loves each and every second of this, but he even with this, he understands there’s always more to enjoy.

“alright, y/n, nothing’s free.” he starts to ease up on you, his touches becoming lighter, and he gives you a knowing glance, “come on, let’s go.”

his pelvis raises slightly to draw attention towards his lonely cock, and you could only crane your head slowly towards him. going from his crotch and up to his face, you gaze at him with an expression of reluctancy.

the aching in your cunt is screaming at you to push forward, however, the logistic side of your brain is harshly reprimanding you for even considering. after thinking it over, it’s almost as if your hand began to move on its own, essentially giving into your tempted desires.

you drag your somewhat limp of palm up towards his waistband, slipping past the blue boxer’s he’s sporting, and finally place it onto his bare cock. he’s immediately responsive, sighing as he slowly rocks himself into your palm to create momentary friction.

at his expression, you can’t help the bubble of disgust that’s rising up inside of you, mixing with your feeling of lust. you grip his bulge, he hums in content. you start to slide your hand up and down, he’s staring at you with ever-loving eyes. in just a few tugs, he’s already huffing with breath stuttering. his own pre-cum begins to cover his shaft, and in return you can sense your hand getting drenched.

“you make me sick.” you say in a hushed voice and wooyoung scoffs at your words.

“oh, fuck off. you love it.” he counters as he takes the fingers inside your dress and uses them to shove your underwear off to the side, going back to circling your now unclothed pussy. literal drops of wetness spill from your entrance, and he can feel it spread in every round strokes he’s producing.

you melt like putty at his hand. from the perfect pressure he’s applying to his occasional dips inside. he’s giving your core the desperate assistance it needed from the moment you for first began feeling like this. it’s almost difficult for you to continue with your jerking inside of his pants, but at every moment you begin to slip, wooyoung swiftly reminds you to do a better job.

“you except me to get off with that flimsy hold? grip it like you mean. yah, i said grip it.”

he halts his movements monetarily, creating an ode to himself to not start up again until you do exactly as you’re being told. your eyelids vibrate in irritation, part of you wanting to keep up with the defiance act. yet, you knew if wanted to leave this situation with some sort of pleasure, obeying this ass would be your best option.

you reposition your hand on his cock, then start your motion up once more. wooyoung’s transported back into his bliss, his eyes having difficulty staying opened. his hips involuntarily ruts inside of your grasp, as he tries his best to not blow his load in the confinements of his pants. no, if he’s going to finish, he knew he needed to make it as easy of a clean up as possible.

which is why a few strokes later, from both you to him, and when wooyoung senses your fat pussy clenching particularly hard against his digits, it’s only then he decides to execute the final stage of his self-pleasuring. he also starts to notice the familiar streets and roads of his neighborhood which lets him know his stop is going to be coming up soon.

just as you feel yourself ready to unravel, coldness floods your core you realize wooyoung’s completely removed himself away and is scrambling to get your hand from being trapped in his sweats.

he’s rushing, now, evident of the quick turnaround he has and how his own hand replaces yours inside of his fleeced joggers. with deep breaths and hazy eyes, he drags his look towards your eyes before dropping his gaze down to your full chest.

“fuck, and i didn’t even get to see your tits,” he mumbles quietly to himself, then darts his vision up to you, “you wanna take ‘em out really quick? just enough so i can how sexy they are.”

an apprehensive groan leaves you, nervousness replacing the arousal you were feeling just a few seconds prior. but, you would be lying if you said the desperate look on jung wooyoung’s face wasn’t getting you bothered right now. how he has an expression between wanting to kiss you and wanting to do more swirling in his pupils.

which is why in no time, you’re turning your body away from the front and more toward the boy, as you begin to undo the buttons of your pretty, pink dress. you don’t go all the way down, just enough to expose the matching pink bra you decided to pair with the outfit.

he whimpers softly at the reveal, “oh my- go all the way for me.”

you do as instructed and reaching up towards you breasts, you begin to pull out your mounds and leave them to hang off of your chest. the cool, still air grazes your erected nipples, causing them to be pointed and you almost resist the urge to twirl your fingers between them.

wooyoung’s tugging grows faster, seeing as the way his hand bobs up and down inside his pants. it’s almost as if he forgot he’s wearing clothes, then once he remembered this fact, he’s scrambling to pull his sweatpants and boxers down mid-thigh. you can now see his thick, red cock out in the open, and threatening to spill at any second.

his breathing turns shallow, and wooyoung continues to rub one out. he even goes as far as taking his unoccupied hand and brining it towards your flesh, grabbing a handful of your tit then moving on to playing with your bud. the action causes you to wince and whine, your mouth forming into an ‘o’ with shut eyes.

at hearing your adorable voice, wooyoung loses it. he feels his orgasm getting ready to wash over, but instead of finishing all over himself, he tilts his cock forward and points his head directly at you.

and before you know, ropes of wooyoung’s cum is getting spritzed onto you lap, all over your legs. he’s marking you with his semen, and god is it so much. his ejaculation continues with tiny moans floating from his lips, beating his cock to your horrified look at the whiteness painting you a beautiful shade.

imagine bully!perv wooyoung, who’s finally had the release he’d been so needy to have all night.

“you’re so good, so damn good.” he says in more of an after thought, finally relieved to have been able to release his frustration, better yet, onto you. he’s still twitching from sensitivity, but that doesn’t stop wooyoung from tucking himself back into his pants and hoisting them up once again. you,still relegate in the fact that you are literally dripping with cum.

just as he’s finishes redressing himself, the bus begins to slow before coming to a stop. you don’t even have time to process what just happened as wooyoung’s quickly grabbing his stuff and standing up, ready to leave. however, he makes sure to leave with parting words before seeing you again at school the next day.

“yah, y/n. take a picture of you in that dress and send it to me.” he quietly asks with up-right corners.

you could only huff out a, ‘fine’. eliciting anything more would’ve taken far too much effort and right now, you were upset at the lack of pleasure for yourself. wooyoung softly laughs at your response but before he fully exits, he dips his head down to place a gentle kiss on your cheek.

he gives you one more smile and a, “now we can cross this one off of the list,” then in a flash he’s gone and off the bus, disappearing into the night.

it’s weird. the relationship between you two.

one minute he’s annoying the absolute reckon out of you, the next he’s placing soft pecks against your skin. you still hated him, and everything he did. his actions that somehow always left you in a perplexed state.

however, maybe what you hated most, was not the crude, antagonizing jokes, but rather the flutter your heart does at the remembrance of his lips lightly on your cheek after each and every encounter.

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Collars Of Duty 4

MalinoisHybrid!Simon x reader

- Chapter 3 - (Chapter 5)

Simon's gone and you're left to deal with his sudden absence. But maybe it's not all over yet.

~ 8,3k Words

Content (might contain spoilers): reader being mean to themselves in their thoughts, hybrid AU, mention of past injury, hints at past attack, mentions of therapy, biting, blood

A.N: I messed with the COD timeline here. I know that some of the things I mention don't happen during this time and don't fit with the canon but it's my AU so shush. Curious if you lot catch the cameo. Have fun. Also not my best chapter but I poured a lot of heart, time and effort into it.

It’s been almost a week since Simon’s transport back to England. A week that you’ve spent at home again. The day you arrived at work to find Simon gone you went back to medical leave. Now as you sit on your couch and look out through your living room window you wonder if that was the best decision.

Simon’s sudden absence left you hollower than you anticipated. You spent barely a week by his side, most of which he was unconscious. So how come you care so damn much already?

You go through your usual routine. Making food, going outside, meeting friends, attending therapy, working on your mind and body. You do everything you did the past few weeks that helped you get back to your feet after Phillip but the worry for Simon won’t fade. It’s always there in the back of your head, a nagging feeling that leaves you thinking about him way more than you probably should.

Is he okay? Are they taking good care of him? Do they take it slow and take his trauma and needs into consideration? Does he have a handler that knows how to help him? How are his wounds?

You feel silly for caring so much about the large hybrid but another pitiful part of you whispers that it might prove that you’re a good person. Caring so much about someone you barely know surely proves that you have a good heart.

Then there’s another part that admonishes you for thinking that. No truly good person would think about whether their actions or thoughts make them a good person and you grow ashamed again. You try to shove all those thoughts somewhere in a corner of your mind where you don’t have to hear them constantly. The back and forth driving you insane without coming up with any conclusive answer.

You worry about him. That’s how it is. You care There is nothing you can do to change that except try not to think about him so much. But honestly you don’t want to stop thinking about him. Something about Simon struck your heart and you feel the need to figure out what.

You sigh as you nurse your mug with your favourite hot beverage in it, taking another slow sip savoring the taste. Has Simon ever had a drink like this? You sigh. Here you go again, thinking about the malinois hybrid without pause.

You let your head fall back against the backrest of the couch, staring at the ceiling. When did your home start feeling more like a self inflicted prison? There’s a restlessness growing in you. It’s starting deep in your stomach and spreads its way through your limbs making you bounce your knee until you almost spill your drink jerking your head back up to safe it at the last second.

Why did you go back to medical leave? You had been more than willing to return for Simon’s case. But as soon as he left you went back home like a snail hiding in it’s shell. You rest your elbows on your knees and let your head hang forward the muscles of your neck stretching uncomfortably.

You’re a damn coward. Resting at home. It doesn’t feel like healing anymore it feels like you’re running away. Running from the center and all the hybrids it houses. You hate it, hate Phillip for ruining all dog hybrids with just one attack. Why does he have the power to make you afraid of all of them. It’s not fair.

Do the others think you’re a coward as well? Hiding at home again after you came back for a week. What is management thinking? That you could return for an emergency but not for the relative calmness of every day? What will happen if you don’t come back quick enough for them? Will you lose your job? Would they actually fire you over something like this?

Just like that sitting at home feels like wasted time. Every minute spent on your couch is a minute you could be working and trying to get over your fear. And suddenly your certain that you have to return to work if you want to make further progress.

Additionally to your sudden urgency to just do something instead of sitting at home and licking your wounds the thought of everyone secretly judging your return to absence makes you feel itchy. But it’s your own judgment makes you the most uncomfortable. You can’t escape your own thoughts that remind you how cowardly you’re behaving. How you’re wasting away thinking about a hybrid who never even was your charge.

Thinking about a hybrid who you foolishly put a lot of hope into.

It makes no logical sense that you feel like Simon was your way back to working with hybrids. You had been sure that working with a problem hybrid would be the worst thing that could happen to you. You had been sure it would make you feel worse and undo everything you’ve achieved in therapy so far.

Now it feels like anyone other than the problem hybrid will hinder your recovery.

For a moment you feel selfish for wanting to gain something out of helping a hybrid. How can you think like that? Even if working with one stops your progress it would be worth it if you could help them. It’s not their job to help you. You’re supposed to help them, that’s what you’re being paid for, dammit. Helping them without gaining anything should be all you want.

Still it would be the best case scenario if working with one would also allow you to slowly get used to them again. It would be nice if the hybrid could help you too. And you decide that you can allow yourself that little bit of selfishness.

But even if that best case scenario were to happen. Before you can get anyone elses help you’ll have to want to help yourself.

The days of peacefully sitting on your couch letting the world outside continue to turn while you exist in your own little reality that consists of your home and the doctors office are over. You’ve had enough time off. It’s time to return to work. If you don’t your own thoughts that continue to run in circles will drive you insane.

No matter how often you dissect what happened with Phillip it won’t change what happened and maybe it’s time to accept that.

It’s probably best if you go back to the center today, before you lose your drive. And what better way to return than just going for lunch. Nice and casual. Nothing scary. At least that’s what you’re trying to convince yourself of as your palms immediately begin getting sweaty.

It’s tiring always being scared and even if it scares you more to go back, at least you’re doing something. You can’t take another second of sitting at home waiting to feel better while doing nothing.

A sudden burst of energy has you rushing all over your home while you get ready and sprint out of your front door before your nerves catch up to you.

You try your hardest not to second guess yourself as your unsteady hands hold the access card against the entrance of the compound. It opens with a beep and you rush through. When you stand in front of the main building you freeze. Your hands are shaking and you will yourself to breathe deeply.

There will be a lot of hybrids at the cafeteria, and suddenly your feet wont take another step. Flashes of teeth, dripping with vicious saliva, snapping and tearing at you appear in your mind. You’re certain that there’s an aggressive hybrid growling behind you but when you turn there’s no one there. Wincing you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to make you feel some semblance of safety.

You’ve already managed to come here and turning around to go back home feels like defeat. You can already taste it’s bitter tang just from thinking about not going through with your plan. For a moment you chew on your lower lip, indecisive then you look up at the building. Liz should be working right now. Maybe she’s willing to have her break with you.

Taking two steps at once, you rush up the stairs hoping you don’t meet anyone, especially no hybrid before you reach Liz’ office. Your heart pumps hectically while you strain your ears to make sure you’ll hear approaching steps over your harsh breathing. You’re lucky, getting there without running into anyone and you quickly slip inside without knocking.

Your heart swells at the way Liz positively beams at your appearance. It should not surprise you as much as it does when she immediately takes her break so she can go to the cafeteria with you. The way she links her arm with yours is so easy and natural that it makes you gulp suppressing the strong urge to hide behind her.

You grow more and more tense the closer you get to the cafeteria. Liz chattering fading to the background even if it’s her attempt to distract you. There are two hybrids and their handlers joining your direction. Luckily they’re concentrated on their handlers and the promise of food after training. The two of them don’t even give you any attention besides a quick glance.

When you realize that they won’t attack, you relax minutely. Everything is okay, you’re okay. The hybrids at the center are all friendly. Usually.

Aggressive Hybrids are very rare and they’re usually kept on leash. There’s various reasons why a handler might decide to keep their charge on a leash and none of the handlers here would let an aggressive hybrid roam free.

You almost manage to gain some control over your fear until you hear a sudden bark behind you. It’s loud and startling and you can feel your heart jump painfully in your chest.

You rip your arm away from Liz, whipping around. Fear clogs your throat and you can feel your eyes watering in sheer panic.

A golden retriever hybrid is running at you his steps slightly uneven. Where his left leg should be is a prosthetic attached but it does nothing to slow him down. His handler is further down the hallway and from the leash that loosely hangs from the hybrids collar it’s evident that he ripped himself free from his handlers hold.

His ears are perked up and flop with every step, his face lit up with obvious joy but it doesn’t help the terror that floods through you at the sight of him running at you. A very faint voice reminds you that you know this hybrid and he wouldn’t hurt you, but that voice is easily silence by the dread that overpowers everything.

He stretches his arms out to the side and Liz takes a step forward.

Before he reaches you, or Liz can step into his way you thrust out your hand out in front of yourself in sheer desperation.

“STOP!”

Alex skids to a halt like he just ran against a wall, having to shift his weight so he doesn’t fall. The prosthetic makes an awful screeching noise as it scrapes over the floor. His ears droop and his tail halts mid wag, uncertain what just happened. You’d feel bad at the obvious hurt in his expression if you weren’t so desperately harnessing your fear to shove it back into the dark corner it crawled from.

Panic squeezes your lungs and denies you access to your own breaths. You think you hear Liz tell Alex’ handler to wait when he goes to grab Alex’ leash but you concentrate on regulating your wheezing breaths, your hand still outstretched to halt Alex.

The golden hybrid looks at you and takes a few small steps on the spot he’s glued to. His nostrils flare and he cocks his head at you.

“You’re afraid of me?” He half asks half states and the devastation in his voice rips your heart right in two. A whine makes its way from his chest and you shake your head. You panic retreating at the need to reassure and calm the hybrid. He did nothing wrong and here you are, hurting him by panicking.

“No! I’m not scared of you.” You say even if you’re not sure whether that’s true. But you need to say something, anything to stop the hurt in his eyes. He cocks his head at you in question.

“Just got spooked from the way your ran at me.”

He visibly perks back up at that, his tail slowly starting to wag again even if it’s decidedly less enthusiastic than before. Then it slowly gains momentum, getting quicker and stronger until his entire body wriggles with his joy and the sight steals a small smile from you.

“I only wanted to hug you. I haven’t seen you in forever. I promise I won’t rush. May I hug you?” He asks with so much hope in his voice that you can’t say no.

Briefly you scan his body language, finding nothing but excitement and restraint so you nod even if the way your blood rushes through you is almost painful.

Alex stays true to his word, slowly steps forward, opening his arms for you and waits until you mirror the gesture. Then he wraps his bulky frame around you, squeezing you to his chest. Immediately he pushes his face against you and takes a deep breath, smelling you. His mustache tickles you and you squirm giggling inadvertently.

He rumbles deep in his chest, huffs in displeasure at your movements which only makes you giggle and squirm more. Your fear slowly retracts its claws from your chest, hissing in displeasure at your entire being remembering Alex as safe.

You can feel him relax right along with you. Until all that is left is warmth and contentment. The close contact to him after weeks of staying away as far as possible from any and all hybrids fills your chest with warmth choking you up slightly. After you allow yourself to bask in his hug for as long as you deem acceptable and after you swallow your tears back down, you step back and shake your head at him fondly.

“You know that this is exactly why you’re still on leash. Always so easily distracted rushing off to investigate whatever scent you caught. Although I’m honored I’m the distraction this time.”

He folds his ears back and the chuckle of his handler reminds you of his and Liz presence. The man, Chad, steps forward and gently cuffs the back of Alex head. The hybrid playfully snaps in the direction of his fingers. You nearly flinch until you remind yourself that this is Alex and he’s just playing.

“Lucky for him we’re not training right now and you’re a very special distraction. It’s good to see you again.”

You remember the day you left Alex as his charge, a mixture of pride and pain in your chest. You’d worked months with Alex after he lost his leg in an explosion during a mission. You’d helped him regain his agility and confidence and it was only normal that you developed a deep bond with the hybrid.

It was always a happy occasion when a hybrid got to go back to having a work handler and you shake Chads outstretched hand with a warm smile. As you make your way into the cafeteria you try to concentrate on Alex and his handler, who’s taken his leash in hand again.

“We get to go back to the real work next week.” Alex tells you puffing his chest and pride blooms in your own chest. You know how much his work means to him and it will be great to see him leave the center after a year and a half of working hard to get back in shape. Still the thought stings a little.

You’ll miss him. He’s been one of your favorite charges and even after you left him in Chad’s capable hands - so they could work and train to become a team while Alex fully regained his abilities - it was nice to meet him in the hallways and outside on the training grounds.

You try to concentrate on the joy instead. He’ll get to go back to doing what he loves and you wonder when you’ll be able to do the same. With the way you currently need to check every hybrid around you for any sign of aggression you don’t see any possibility of you taking on a new charge soon.

With Simon it had been easy. He’d been an emergency which left not enough time to think, to doubt, to get lost in your fear. Now that he’s gone you have too much time to cook up all the worst case scenarios in your head again.

While you try to have lunch without always looking around like a spooked rabbit you get to watch Chad and Alex interact and their easy camaraderie and banter makes you jealous. It makes you overly aware of the fact that you’re unable to interact with a hybrid like that at the moment.

But you love this job. You love working with them and helping them and developing all these bonds. Harshly you stab your fork into the food. Even if it takes forever, you will be able to do it again.

As if to mock you the scar on your shoulder throbs at the aggressive movement and you subconsciously reach up, pressing against it. Alex turns his head towards you from his place besides you. You give him a small tight lipped smile.

He says nothing, but under the table he moves his leg until his thigh touches you and you stare down at the contact.

The next day you join Alex and Chad while training at their insistence the day before. They’re all too eager to show off their hard work to you and it’s almost mesmerizing the way they clear the obstacle course together.

The centers agility course is a jungle of platforms that are raised over the ground with obstacles in between. The platforms vary from the size of your hand to a square meter and some are slanted to test the balance.

They can be roughly divided into two heights one being a few centimeters above the ground while the second level is mostly at two meters with platforms of varying heights in between. There is no designated path through the course which allows a handler to challenge a hybrid with new angles at already well known obstacles.

The slight tugs Chad gives on the leash help Alex to find the right footing while he concentrates on sniffing out the hidden object. You.

You’re crouched behind an obstacle that’s on the second level, keeping out of sight. You peek at the pair of them moving through the course stopping at a point where you doubled back to confuse Alex.

The single minded focus of the hybrid is admirable but also dangerous out in the field. In the field concentrating on nothing besides what he’s supposed to sniff out means running into the line of fire, stepping onto a contact mine or whatever other horrible things wait for them in the field. That is why he’s connected to Chad with the leash.

You almost shout a warning, your heart leaping into your throat, when Alex lifts his head to track your scent not watching the small platforms under his feet. You can already see his foot miss the next platform but Chad gives a gentle tug and Alex rights his direction without looking down.

His foot finds the platform and you exhale heavily with relief. You can only continue watching in awe. You’d known that Chad was a good handler. While working with Philip you had often seen the two of them train but you always had your own hybrid to concentrate on so you never got to appreciate the incredible team these two make.

Alex finds you easily while Chad watches over him, clearing his path, making sure he doesn’t get hurt while he concentrates on his work and when Alex finds you in record time, you can’t help but clap and holler in excitement.

Chad ruffles Alex hair and the golden retriever hybrid beams with pride. His tail wags a mile a minute and when you’re all back down on the ground he does a few silly circles on the spot giving an excited bark which makes Chad laugh.

A deep feeling of peace settles over you. This is what it’s supposed to be like. A soft smile sneaks onto your lips. Watching Chad and Alex is weirdly healing, reminding you of what a healthy hybrid handler relationship looks like. You have been able to build one with every charge you’ve had besides Phillip. And with him it wasn’t because you didn’t try.

For the first time fear isn’t the first emotion bubbling up when you think about Phillip. This time it’s sadness. In his chase for his independence he sold his soul to someone else. But you don’t think that the proud hybrid realized that. He probably didn’t realize that the gesture of attacking you was empty considering the reasons for it. It proved jack shit. But hey at least he got what he wanted in the end.

Even that thought doesn’t chase the sadness away. So you concentrate back on Chad and Alex and you realize you’re a little less frustrated with yourself when you go to bed that evening. You got to work with a hybrid again and it had went well. Things will get better after all.

After the day you spent with Alex you come back to work for good. You do not have your own charge at the moment but you try to be useful in every way you can. Instead of working with a hybrid you start helping with the equipment, running errands and giving the other handlers advice that you feel not qualified to give considering how long you’ve been absent and the reason for your absence.

The way you try to avoid running into hybrids makes you feel ashamed of yourself once more but you don’t have it in you to just casually cross paths with them. It’s so stupid, the way one hybrid ruined every hybrid for you. You’re determined to change that, to not see a threat in every hybrid but maybe… maybe not today.

You duck around the corner as you spot a hybrid walking down the hallway with her handler and press yourself against the wall counting down from ten to calm yourself. It’s frustrating as hell that interacting with Alex didn’t magically heal you.

Why could one hybrid not heal the wounds of one other hybrid? Your pulse still jumps at every hybrid you see. You still try to hide instead of normally passing them. And you grow frustrated with yourself. Healing sucks. It’s hard to understand why books and movies always seem to picture it as this magical beautiful journey when most of the time it feels like running in circles and standing in your own way.

How would things be if Simon was still here? Would you walk the hallways unafraid with his large form looming next to you? Maybe if he’d become your charge you would feel better already.

You shake your head. Thinking about that doesn’t help you, you try to remind yourself. Simon’s in England and there isn’t anything you can do.

You peek around the corner, seeing that the hybrid is gone you continue on your way, glad that the tiles help you hear when someone’s approaching. You look at the stack of papers in your arms and almost scoff at yourself. Running errands instead of doing what you actually get paid for.

But with Simon gone you don’t know how you’re supposed to jump into the deep end and take the position as a handler again.

You should have known. You should have known it would come back to bite you in the ass that you didn’t sign the handler agreement. Maybe with that you could have been transferred with Simon and stayed by his side for the time it will take for him to be able to go back to active duty.

Apparently the Doc had asked for the papers that prove that Simon is your charge so she could have you called to the center before he left. When she called the office they had to tell her that no such papers were signed.

You’re lucky that the Doc hasn’t told anyone that you lied to gain access to his medical report. At least you don’t think she has or someone would have approached you about it by now. It still might happen and you’re unsure whether you should talk to her about it before you possibly get a lawsuit.

Thinking about that does nothing to calm your racing heart and you almost flee inside Liz’ office when it comes into view as if her presence will shield you from your own thoughts and feelings as well.

You drop the stack of papers on her desk and she sighs, pushing up her glasses and meets you eyes.

“I should probably thank you but honestly, how dare you bring this to me instead of accidentally spilling coffee all over them.”

Hearing Liz who enjoys the office work say something like that startles a laugh out of you and she grins.

“One of those days?” You ask and she nods, stretches her arms over her head and groans when her back audibly pops.

She takes her smoothie and slurps it through her straw. “You know I looked into it for you. But there is no way for us to obtain any information on Simon’s well being. I’m sorry.”

You plop down into the empty chair before her desk and crane your neck until you’re staring at the ceiling. “Yeah. I already expected that. If only I had signed those damned papers.”

You catch Liz shrug out of your peripheral vision. “Well with the English laws being the way they are it’s not certain that would have done anything either.”

Lazily you let your head roll forward. “Hm?”

“Ah, right. You only do the hands on work. The hybrid-handler laws in England demand the hybrid to sign an agreement too for the handler-hybrid relationship to have legal effect. So your signature alone would probably not give you any information on him anyway.”

“Oh.” You think about it. You know the English laws are different but you never looked into it since they don’t concern you, at least they never did until now. Either way you will never know what’s become of Simon and it frustrates you.

“Well, it is what it is.” You say resigned and put your hands on your knees to push yourself up. If only you could mean that. “Back to running errands I go.”

Before you can leave the room Liz’ voice stops you. “You have to take on a charge again at some point.”

You half turn to her smiling, even though you don’t feel like smiling at all. “Exactly. ‘At some point.’ That point is not now. It’s barely been a few days of me being back.”

She shakes her head at you and you’d be embarrassed or angry at her disappointed expression but you know it’s because she cares. “Why are you so damn hesitant? You were fully ready to take Simon as charge?”

You purse your lips in thought, turning to her fully. “With him it was easy. I didn’t have time to imagine all the things that could go wrong. Just ‘bam here’s this hybrid you have to take care of’. Now that he’s gone I have too much time to think about what it means to take on a new charge.”

Liz clicks her tongue. “Maybe I’ll just drop a hybrid at your doorstep so you don’t have time to think.”

You gasp in mock offense. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” She says dryly and you’re not sure if she’s still joking. So you laugh it off while fleeing her office before she decides to make any more valid points.

That better have been a joke or you’d strangle her. And then thank her because thinking about it - dropping a hybrid at your doorstep might actually work. Your close the door, turn to walk back down the hallway and almost walk into Meg from HR.

“Oh good. I was looking for you.”

You gulp. Oh no. Did the Doc rat you out after all? Would they fire you? Shit. You rub your palms against your pants. Did you do anything wrong? What if she knows you lied to get the Doc to talk about Simon? Would they file a lawsuit because of something like that?

“Follow me.” She says curtly and you nod, too startled and scared to get a simple yes out. Walking behind her through the hallway makes you feel like you’re walking to your own execution and you thank whoever is listening that you don’t run into any hybrids. You’re not sure your heart could handle any more anxiety.

The clicking of her door closing while she indicates for you to sit down at her desk sounds like a threat and when you sit you rub your sweaty palms against your thighs.

She sits down on her side of the desk and clicks something on her computer then she looks at you seriously and you feel like you’ll be in serious trouble in a few second. Hopefully you won’t cry, that would be embarrassing.

She sighs. “Do you remember the aggressive hybrid you were called in for from your leave?”

You nod and this time you manage to weakly say: “Yes.” Oh no. Oh no no no no. Pleas no.

She taps a pen against her chin and studies you. “You know we really hoped you could take another charge soon so management isn’t the happiest about it but we were promised a substitute and compensation so we decided to leave it up to you.”

Is she doing this on purpose? Dragging it out? What substitute? What the hell is going on?

“We got a request for you from the center in England he is currently at. They want you to work there with him for however long it takes to get him back on his feet. You’re one of our best even if you’re currently not exactly fitting your job description. I heard you got along well with him.” Something in her gaze softens at her last statement and you release your held breath a heavy weight dropping off your shoulders.

She doesn’t know about the papers. It feels like your heart can finally get a break. But then everything she said hits you and you start nervously bouncing your leg. They requested you? You’re sure they have more than enough handlers at the center he’s currently at. Surely they have competent personnel?

“Why… did they request me?” You carefully ask, not sure you’re allowed to ask any questions. Which is absurd if you think about it because of course you’re allowed to ask questions if she specifically called you to her office to give you a choice.

She purses her lips and twirls the pen in her fingers. “Apparently he’s giving them trouble. They don’t know what to do and found out he was more comfortable with you. Usually they would just give a problematic hybrid like him a medical discharge from his duties but apparently he’s a big enough asset for them to reach out to us.”

You nod trying to understand. What happened? Things hadn’t looked that bad. What had happened that Simon is once again deemed a problematic? Are you willing to go to England for an unknown amount of time because they ask you to? It might be months until he’s rehabilitated.

Your thoughts return to the few moments you had with him. You remember him in the bath, the way he’d let you dry his hair. The way you felt like you might overcome your fear with him. Maybe you don’t have to try with another hybrid. Maybe Simon is meant to be your charge so you can both help each other. This might be what you’ve been waiting for without knowing.

You’re a bit unsettled by how quick you’ve come to your decision. You should probably think this through more but you’d sign the handler papers in a heartbeat. That reminds you…

“What about him? Don’t the laws in England demand that he agrees with me being his handler?”

She nods, rifles through a stack of paper on her table and finally finds what she’s looking for. She folds the stapled stack of papers open on the last page and slides it over her desk towards you. At the bottom two lines for signatures sit.

“He already signed signed.”

You stare at the line where his name sits in neat block writing. You can’t help yourself but run your finger over it. Your heart thumps hectically in your chest. He already agreed to you being his handler. All you have to do is sign as well. You try to come up with all the logical questions and things that should make you hesitate.

“What about housing and stuff?” You hate how you say ‘stuff’ like you don’t know what you’re talking about. Your thoughts are rushing. You have a hard time getting a hold of them. Taking care of contracts and the whole organizational stuff was never your strong suit. Your strong suit is working with hybrids, at least you thought so until Phillip. But the fact that Simon apparently wants you as his handler makes the smallest bit of confidence grow.

They want you in England because whatever happened makes them think you can help him. Whatever he said makes them think you’re who they have to turn to. You can do this. This is also what the hybrid wants. What will happen to Simon if you refuse?

Meg rips you from your thoughts. “They board and lodge their staff if they chose to live on site.”

You nod and then hold your hand out for the pen.

“Are you sure?” Meg asks and hesitantly gives in to you. You scribble your signature on the line next to Simon’s.

“Yes.” You say. Actually you aren’t sure at all. It’s probably stupid to sign so quickly when you haven’t asked a lot of important questions but if you don’t sign now you’ll think about it and then fear will claw at your chest and prevent you from going for it. Maybe it’s stupid and reckless. But it feels right.

Meg shrugs and takes the paper with your signature back. “Alright. Simon Riley is officially your new charge. They want you over there as quickly as possible so you should take the earliest flight you can. We’ll prepare your papers and request your substitute.”

Liz is gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles are stark white. Your knee is bouncing again and she glances at you from the corner of her eyes every now and then. She insisted on driving you to the airport and you’re very thankful despite arguing at first that she doesn’t have to.

“What is it?” You ask and now both your legs are bouncing.

Her hands shift on the wheel before gripping hard again. “Are you sure about this?”

You sigh and put your face in your hands. “No.” You mumble. She has the audacity to laugh at that. You shoot her a look and then start laughing too. What the hell are you doing? You’re about to fly to a whole other continent for a hybrid you don’t even really know.

She shrugs but her hands relax. “We can still cancel it all. I’ll kidnap you, no one will ever know that you tucked your tail and ran.”

That makes you laugh harder and you shake your head resting it back against the headrest. “I feel insane for this but I couldn’t say no. Maybe I’ll end up regretting this but maybe… Maybe everything will work out? What if this is what I need? A problem hybrid in a whole other country who wants me as his handler.”

Liz purses her lips. “I don’t know. I’ve never known you to be so impulsive but if you feel like you have to do this I won’t stop you. But if I receive word that you want to come back and don’t want to do this after all, I’ll terminate the contract and personally come get your ass back to the US.”

You snort at that but something in you calms down. Despite her joking tone you know that she means every word. You look at her for a while and it hits you that you don’t know how long you’ll be in England. Who knows when you’ll be in the same room as her again.

“Thank you.” You say quietly and Liz just nods.

The rest of the ride is comfortably quiet.

At the airport she squeezes you tightly and helps you with your luggage. Before you know it you’re on the plane and taking off. Your whole body starts getting jittery with nerves. You breathe deeply remembering one of the exercises your therapist gave you. She offered to keep holding your sessions online and you’re incredibly thankful for it.

You manage to calm down during the flight and even sneak in a nap, waking up with a racing heart to the announcement that the plane is on approach. As soon as you touch ground and have permission to use your phone you text Liz to let her know that you landed safely.

Half an hour later you’re in a cab going for the rehabilitation center you’ll stay at for an unknown amount of time. You wipe your hands on your pants thankful that the cab driver doesn’t try to make conversation so you can look out the window at the darkness of the evening.

It’s weird to think about how much more of the day Liz has left while it’s already very late evening here.

The street lights illuminate parts of the road and you feel like you’re dying inside from all the uncertainty of what is to come. You wish the drive would never end so you can’t arrive at the center. Alternatively you’d be happy with a concise list of what exactly will happen and who exactly you’ll meet. You get neither an endless ride nor a list. Sooner than you’d like the cab stops and you’re left with your gigantic luggage on the sidewalk.

You sincerely hope no one watches the awkward waddle you do while dragging your heavy bag with you to the front gate. Your wishes go unnoticed because someone approaches you quickly and you straighten up your heart jumping into your throat.

When the person is finally close enough for you to make them out clearly your breath hitches and you can’t help but look at him with wide eyes. He’s a snake hybrid. You’ve never seen one before and even if you’re aware of how rude it is you can’t stop staring.

“Welcome! You’re the handler from America, right?” He greets you and you gape at him nodding. He has a split tongue. The street lamps illuminate him dimly and if you aren’t mistaken the faint outline of scales is visible at his temples and his jaw.

He waits a moment and then slightly squirms under your scrutiny. “Ah. Am I your first snake hybrid?”

That manages to shake you out of it and you nod mumbling an apology. He easily hoists up your baggage onto his shoulder and opens a door in the gate with a key card.

“Don’t worry. I get that reaction with most people. We’re all really happy that you’re here. Simon has been… difficult to say the least.” The snake hybrid goes on and you can’t help but wonder how he knows so much. Who is he? Is he the companion hybrid of one of the handlers here?

You’re staring again while you follow him and his shoulders tense. “Oh! I forgot to introduce myself. How silly. I’m Nathair but please call me Nate.”

You give him your name in return and he stops for a moment to extend his hand for you to shake before continuing his way towards a large building. Before you can get a good look at the way it’s structured Nate leads you through the entrance door and towards a reception desk.

Smoothly he slides behind it sorting some papers and putting them in a folder then he gets a key card and stands again. He extends the folder to you and you take it before Nathair rounds the desk again, takes up your luggage once more and makes his way down a hallway. You hurry to follow.

“Those are some papers we need signed, some information like a map and the rules of our center. I also included Simon’s file.”

Suddenly your interest is piqued. “Where is he?”

Nate turns down another hallway and you already know it will take a while before you’re comfortable with the layout of the center. Thank god for the map.

“He’s being kept in a safety room where he will stay until he is ready to join you.”

“Join me?” You have to jog a few steps to keep up with Nate’s quick pace and when he notices he slows down. Here in the light of the building you can get a good look at him.

He’s magnificent. Broad shoulders, copper coloured hair and a dusting of dark reddish brows freckles that get denser towards his temples and fade into a few scattered scales. His skin is pale and along his jaw fading down his neck you can make out some more scales.

His eyes are big and round and something about them is slightly off. You can’t say exactly what it is though. The hands which are holding up your luggage are strong but slender and on the back of them you can once again see reddish brown scales disappear under his sleeves.

“Yes. Join you. Hybrids and handlers share their rooms here but with Simon being the way he is we didn’t deem it safe enough to bring him to the general housing wing yet. “

Suddenly you feel stupid again. You really agreed too quickly without enough information. You didn’t even know about the rooming situation. You straighten your shoulders. It’s too late now and it’s not like you would decide differently if you were given the choice again.

“This one’s yours.” Nate finally stops in front of a door. Right on the door, engraved in a small plastic plate, is your name. You swallow nervously as Nate unlocks it and puts your baggage down inside against the wall next to the entrance.

You walk in and a small smile blooms on your face. It’s cosy. Not so small that it feels cramped but not big enough to make you feel lost in it either. The curtains are drawn over the windows and there is even a small kitchenette cramped into the corner next to one of the windows.

On the right side nestled into a corner is a decently sized desk and on the left opposite to it is the bed pushed against the wall.

You walk in looking through an open door on the right side at the end of the room. It’s the bathroom. At the far end of the tiled room you see another door. Once you’ve scanned every corner you turn back to ask Nate about the door and you catch him with his split tongue out. He blushes a brilliant red under his freckles and lifts his hand to rub the back of his head.

“Ah… sorry. I was just smelling the room.” He sheepishly admits and you cock your head at him in curiosity.

“I smell better with my mouth and tongue than I do with my nose and I wanted to get your scent.”

You laugh at the embarrassed expression on his face and he turns even redder which makes you shake your head and put your hands up. “No, no! I’m not laughing at you!”

You take a step in his direction. “Nate, I work with dog hybrids for a living. I’m used to being smelled.”

He seems taken aback by that then he grins. “Do you mind then?”

You shake your head and Nate takes a step closer his split tongue testing the air for a few moments before he steps back and nods. “Thank you. Not knowing how someone smells feels like I don’t fully know who they are. Like I never saw a their face.”

You nod. “If I say I understand that I’d be lying because I obviously do not experience these things like you do. But it makes sense, no need to be embarrassed.”

He seems happy with that and looks around the room. His eyes settle on another door in the middle of the right wall. He steps towards it.

“Through this you’ll get to Simon’s room. It’s exactly the same as yours just mirrored. His room also shares the bathroom with yours.”

Ah that’s the other door you noticed in the bathroom. Curiously you open it and look into Simon’s room. Just like Nate says it’s a perfectly mirrored version of yours. But it’s empty and suddenly you can’t stay a moment longer here without having seen Simon. You need to make sure he’s okay.

“Nate. Where is Simon? Can I see him?”

The snake hybrid once again scratches the back of his head. “It’s already late.”

“Please. I need to know he’s okay. I came all this way specifically for him.”

Nate looks at you for a long moment and whatever he sees in your expression makes him sigh and relent.

Your ribcage hurts from the violent beats of your heart as you follow Nate through the building. He leads you down so many turns that you’re sure you won’t find your way back on your own.

The fact that all the hallways look basically the same doesn’t help your orientation but all you think about is seeing Simon again. He’s probably mostly healed by now. Will he be excited to see you? After all he signed the agreement first.

Nate leads you down the corridor to a seeming dead end but when you get closer you see that there is actually a door at the end. You both stop before it and the snake hybrid gets his key card.

“Would you like me to go in first and make sure he’s calm?” He asks and you immediately shake your head.

“It will be fine.”

Nate presses his lips into a thin line but nods and unlocks the door. You wipe your palms on your pants the excitement of seeing him again almost overwhelming you. You’re here and he is here and everything will be fine.

The door opens and you step into the room. Simon’s on his feet at the other end and oh, he looks spectacular. You’ve been separated long enough that his health noticeably progressed during that time.

His ears perk forward and Nate slips into the room besides you, closing the door.

Seeing Simon standing on his own without any struggle fills you with relief and your eyes with tears. Physically he already looks so much better than you remember him and the joy of that realization almost makes you shake.

“It’s you.” He rumbles and you cannot restrain yourself anymore taking hasty steps in his direction. Giddy that he’s alive and on his feet and looks well. Everything will work out after all. You’ll take care of each other.

You realize your mistake too late, blinded by the happiness. Time seems to almost slow to a halt. For a moment Simon’s eyes widen, then his tail bristles and his ears press against his head, his lips peel back revealing his dangerous canines.

Your heart stops but you’re mere steps from him and before you can stop the malinois hybrid charges the last steps that separate you.

“No!” Nate shouts somewhere behind you but you barely hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Simon barrels into you, throwing you to the floor and your head cracks against the tiles making pain explode all over the back of it. Simon’s honey coloured eyes are narrowed in aggression and his growl rattles your bones. His big body presses you against the cold hard floor uncomfortably. Every bone aching from the fall.

His teeth flash and you barely have the time to throw up your arms, crossing them in front of you to shield your face and neck. His fangs sink into your forearm. The intensity of the pain almost makes you cry out and you grunt.

Your eyes widen as you look up at Simon’s expression, nose scrunched as he grinds his teeth deeper into your arm until you feel like he’ll break right through your bones. He’s growling like he wants to kill you. His broad shoulders block out the room behind him. All you can see is his vicious snarl and angry eyes.

For some reason it’s the trickle of blood running down to your elbow that catches your attention. How funny, you think, that your own blood can tickle you like this.

[mavrintarou]

[3:00 PM] Miya Atsumu - A/B/O

All I can tell you all is that it's long and dirty... hope you have a wonderful smutty Friday.

Warning: Full of smutty smut... A little different from most A/B/O au

.

Atsumu returned home early from a four-week-long training camp.  

He first noticed the unfamiliar pheromone in his shared apartment with Y/n.

Immediately his ears perked, and he could hear moaning and whimpering coming from down the hall.

Sighing, Atsumu contemplated going to Osamu’s place for the night. Now that he recalled, Y/n did remind him that she was going through her rut cycle soon. Normally, they respected each other’s boundaries and spent their ruts at the specialty hotel that was designated for ruts & heats. She had asked if he would be okay if she brought her partner to spend the night at their apartment since he would be out during that time, and he was okay with it.

Before Atsumu could put his shoes back on, he heard a door swing open.

“This is fucken pathetic, screw you!”

Atsumu froze and before he could hide, a half-naked omega stalked past him before stopping to glare at him. “Your roommate is a pathetic alpha!” She shouted before slamming the door after her.

Blinking, Atsumu was shocked at what had just happened.

“She’s just mad I lost my vibe. I didn’t know you were coming home early.”

Turning his head, Atsumu sees Y/n standing only in her robe, leaning against the wall. He could see red blotches along her neck.

He took a step closer to Y/n. “You okay?”

She shrugged and smiled, “don’t worry about it.” She walked over and dropped herself on the couch.

How could he not worry? Atsumu inhaled softly before sitting beside her. He noticed the oddness he had been feeling the last couple of days and couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

He glanced over at Y/n who had her arms crossed over her chest with her eyes closed, almost like she was sleeping.

Y/n was one of the few female hybrids, a special case of an alpha and omega. Hybrids were able to choose between either gender and could breed and be bred.

The setback for most hybrids was that they have a smaller physique than an average omega and due to that, oftentimes time they were looked down on as alpha hybrids. Like both genders, hybrids go through both rut and heat phases and sometimes both could happen at the same time. Hybrids were able to release alpha and omega pheromones yet unable to detect them like betas. They often have to carry with them a pheromone neutralizer to prevent unwanted attention.

Eventually, most hybrids will adopt the more dominant gender. The high percentage of hybrids become omegas due to the challenges of being an alpha.

But Y/n had no problem attracting both alphas and omegas.

Atsumu himself was physically and sexually attracted to her until he discovered that her preference was omegas.

He would take it to his grave that he had imagined how it would be to have Y/n below him, how she would take him…

But they were friends, roommates for three years.

However, things changed two weeks ago when the two of them were casually having a beer in their living room after a long work day.

“Hey,” Atsumu started, staring at Y/n sip on her fourth beer. She was one of the few ladies he knew who enjoyed a good beer and a lot of it. “Wanna play Truth or Dare?”

He could see she was thinking about it before she smirked and answered, “sure.”

Being the gentleman he is, he allowed her to go first.

“Truth or dare, ‘Tsumu?”

He felt a sense of nervousness for some reason and decided to play it safe and chose truth.

“Why are you so uptight?”

Atsumu frowned before letting out a laugh, that was her question? “Honestly, I haven’t had sex in three months. That’s the longest I’ve ever gone without sex since losing my virginity.”

Y/n’s face distorted humorously and she tried hard not to laugh, “okay, your turn.”

“Truth or dare, Y/n?”

“Truth,” she answered.

Atsumu smirked, wondering if she was playing it safe. “Which one do you like more, being top or bottom?” This was one question he had been dying to know the answer to.

Y/n consistently projected an aura of composure and ease, effortlessly connecting with everyone she encountered. It came as no shock that alphas and omegas alike gravitated toward her; there was an undeniable allure about her that drew them in.

She wasn’t surprised at his question at all. “My answer would be top because I’ve never been a bottom before.”

His eyes bulged out in disbelief. “I don’t believe you, you have never…” Atsumu’s voice trailed off as he tried to connect the dots in his head. “But you’re a… hybrid…” his tone was filled with nothing but confusion. “Don’t you get heats?”

Y/n shook her head, gulping her beer. “No, I have never gotten through a heat before. I know, it’s odd. My doctor doesn’t know why either and just continues to tell me to monitor myself.” She shrugs her shoulders, “so, I only know how to top.” She narrows her eyes at him playfully, asking him that nearly makes him choke on his saliva. “Why? You want to do you want to show me how it feels to be a bottom?”

The fun and playful mood Atsumu was in suddenly turned him sober and serious. Was she joking? He swallowed, trying hard not to make it obvious that his cock had gotten excited and was semi-hard.

Their game of Truth or Dare came to an abrupt end before neither had a second round as the fire alarms in their apartment complex went off.

Neither spoke again about that subject and went on with their lives.

Or at least Atsumu tried to.

For days, he couldn’t get the subject out of his head, wondering and questioning how she had managed to go this long without having a heat, let alone that she had never been a bottom before! It had also bothered Atsumu about her question she asked him if he would like to show her, was she serious about it? It made Atsumu excited every time he thought about it.

Atsumu has been wanting to bring the conversation up again and suddenly had the urge to do so.

His mouth opened to speak when something hit his sense of smell, a delicate aroma. Blood began rushing down south and his mouth watered, his mind clouded with nothing but wanting to have a taste of this deliciousness that was taking over his senses.

Realization hit him as this was typically how he becomes when he is being affected by an omega’s heat pheromone.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at Y/n.

“Atsumu.”

He flinched at the way she called his name, not in a threatening way, but in a way that made him want to be nothing but possessive of her. His throat tightened as her pheromone poured more onto him.

“I… think I’m going through my first heat,” Y/n murmurs softly, opening her eyes to peer into his. They were a different color and most definitely very dilated.

He noticed her crossed arms tightening around her petite body. Realization hit him, the faint lingering smell he had detected was Y/n’s omega pheromone, something completely different from her alpha pheromone he was used to. It was no wonder he was not threatened by it because it still had a bit of her scent in it, keeping him calm.

“What?” he growled, trying to maintain his composure and sanity, he wanted to pounce on her. Atsumu stood up and distanced himself from her. “But you said you –“  

“I never had one before so I don’t know what to expect but I’m confident… enough that what I’m experiencing right now is my heat.” Y/n hunched over, her shoulders trembling.

The silence in the room was unbearable and she broke it by quietly asking, “would you – be comfortable to help me?” She bit her lower lip before asking, “I’ve – I’ve never been a bottom… show me. Show me what it's like to be a bottom, Atsumu.”

Atsumu’s eyes bulged out, “sh – show you?” He inhaled sharply as he closed his eyes to absorb her request. He paced back and forth in their living room before clarifying, “say that one more time? What are you asking me to do?” He needed a second confirmation.

“Atsumu,” Y/n called his name, it flowed like soft butter from the tip of her tongue. “I’m in heat right now and I want you to show me what it feels like to be a bottom…” she paused, “if that makes you feel uncomfortable I can go ask –“ She was suddenly tugged onto her feet and pressed against his chest. She felt his hardness press against her abdomen and her eyes widened, breath hitching.

“All you need is me,” Atsumu’s eyes suddenly become dark as he stares at her lips. “I will show you how to be a bottom, Y/n.”

.

“You’re breaking my heart here, Y/n,” Atsumu growled softly against her nipple. Three of his long and thick fingers have been thrust back and forth inside her pussy. “Am I doing a shit job that I can’t even make you moan for me?”

Y/n shook her head, her knuckles had turned white from gripping his comforters tightly. She let out a heavy breath, “no – no… it feels…”

“Feels?...”

“Fucken amazing…” she finished, opening her eyes. “I’ve… never felt this bliss before…” her back arched when Atsumu’s fingers curled and fastened.

“Nope,” Atsumu chuckled when she tried to close her legs. “Keep these beautiful legs open, wide open for me.” He shifts his large, toned body to fit in between her legs. He withdrew his fingers to stroke his cock.

Atsumu still couldn’t believe that Y/n has never had a heat before, let alone taken a cock before.

“’Tsumu,” Y/n whimpered, her fingers grazing over her wet pussy, her pussy ached to be stuffed, filled in ways she never imagined before.

Since finding out she is a hybrid at the age of 16, her gender has always been alpha-dominant. She has never experienced a heat since discovering her hybrid gender even though she was capable of adapting to both genders.

Unlike most, Y/n had no problem attracting either gender but she had preferred to be a top giver than a bottom receiver.

It wasn’t until recently, until the game of Truth or Dare with Atsumu that it had piqued her interest. She suddenly was curious about being a bottom but she did not know who she trusted enough to share that moment with. Unconsciously, she began manifesting it.

On numerous occasions, she caught herself staring at Atsumu, and it was then that she began seeing him in a different light. She considered the idea of asking him but was frequently reminded that it would alter their relationship forever.

Her request tonight was her heat speaking. During the few weeks of Atsumu being away, Y/n’s body began experiencing a change she had never felt before. Unlike the times she was going through a rut, her body was burning and throbbing at her pussy.

Y/n has never touched herself in such a way, never having to need to until now. For two nights in a row, she tossed and turned in bed until the temporary relief was her fingers dipping in between her legs and stuffing her pussy in ways she’s done to other omegas.

“Atsumu…” his name slipped from her lips unconsciously. Her eyes widened and embarrassment shamed her for calling out her friend’s name while imagining him, imagining it was his fingers stuffing her pussy.

And now three of his finger pump quickly in and out of her pussy, the mere thought of knowing it’s his fingers that is building up the pleasure is all Atsumu’s doing.

The following day, she snuck into his room and inhaled the scent in his room, filling her desire and yearning.

“Yes,” Y/n moaned, eyes rolling shut, “yes, Atsumu…”

Atsumu shifted onto his knees.  “I can’t believe you’ve never taken a cock before. I find that hard to believe,” Atsumu rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit.

Y/n herself can’t believe she hasn’t either. It may be partly because she never had a heat to begin with. Y/n sat up and reached for his cock, her eyes bewitched at the size of his cock. “It’s so… big.”

She wasn’t big and she was aware of it. The first time she spent her rut with an omega, she thought it was a disaster, not knowing what to expect but the omega had expressed how good her cock felt.

An omega once told her with a wink, “it’s now how big, it’s how you use it.”

“I won’t deny that I’ve never wondered how you would look beneath me, Y/n.” Atsumu admitted, “surely you must know you’re fucken desirable, right?” He pushed the tip of his thick cock in her, groaning when her walls tightly refuse to let him in until he compel, shoving just the tip through. “Relax for me, Y/n…” he slowly pushed back and forth, pushing more of his thick long cock into her until she has lubricated his cock, taking him easier. His eyes were transfixed at his cock disappearing into her pussy until she’s taken all of him. Looking up he sees her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, her lower lip trapped between her teeth. Reaching up he freed her swollen lower lip and smoothed it with his thumb. He pressed his thumb past her lips, “bite me instead…” His cock jerked when she clenched her teeth against his thumb. “That’s it, baby…”

Her teeth loosened and she wrapped her tongue around his thumb, sucking it.

“Fuck…” Atsumu swore before choking out a chuckle, “I’m going fuck your mouth afterward.”

Y/n freed his thumb, “promise?” her legs wrapped around his hips pressing herself upwards to him. “Hurry,” she pleaded, “fuck my pussy, ‘Tsumu…” She never thought she would hear herself say that phrase.

Atsumu didn’t need to be told twice. His body crushed her small one, sandwiching her to his bed as he hiked her legs and began thrusting into her pussy. The bed began to shake violently and the wooden bedframe creaked loudly.

Y/n’s arms encircled his neck tightly while her fingers weaved through his strands of dirty blond hair, gripping them firmly at the roots and giving it a gentle tug. Her hips rolled, meeting his powerful thrusts. She cooed and encouraged him, “yes! Yes… just like that… fuck… you’re so big, ‘Tsumu… you feel so good…”

Atsumu only hummed, his mouth busy sucking a perfect hickey against her neck. It has always made him jealous seeing other omegas mark her and now it is his turn and he is going to make sure his mark is engraved into her skin.

His hips fasten, cock repeatedly hitting her sweet spot. If it felt this wonderful already, he couldn’t imagine how it would be when he was in a rut, when his senses would be fully heightened.

“Y/n,” Atsumu groaned, sliding his tongue along her neck and to her jaw, licking along her cheek. He felt so high, in a state of bliss. Every thrust into Y/n’s pussy sent pure excitement and euphoria pulse through him. “Look at me,” he growled, and when she found his brown eyes, he leaned down and kissed her.

Their tongues tangled and eagerly danced as their mouth moved over each other hungrily.

Atsumu was finally satisfying a lingering curiosity within him, having Y/n beneath him and kissing her.

Y/n moaned his name breathlessly from his kisses, “my tummy… it feels tingly… I’m – I’m going to cum… please let me cum…”

The tightening of Y/n’s pussy and increased enhancement of her pheromone pushed Atsumu to the edge, losing the last of his control. He tightened his arms around her small body and pounded hard until the tip of his cock continue to stimulate her cervix. He badly wished he was in a rut so he could penetrate her cervix and knot her.

Breed her.

Y/n’s teeth sink into his collarbone as she comes undone, her nails digging into his shoulders as her body trembles.

Atsumu follows seconds later, filling her pussy with his hot cum.

There’s no going back, I can’t let her go now, he tells himself. He inhales her scent, feeling his cock already semi-hard once again.

.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you two in a long ass time, what have you guys been up to?” Their mutual friend, Ryuji said, gesturing to Atsumu and Y/n to take a seat in the two empty spots at the end of the table.

“Just the same stuff, training and tournaments,” Atsumu shrugged, pulling the seat for Y/n and pushing in the chair like a gentleman. “Season is wrapping up so I’ll finally get some relaxation.”

Atsumu and Y/n were oblivious to their physical intimacy, they didn’t see how their three other friend’s eyes widened as Atsumu’s body turned towards Y/n, his arm resting behind her chair and thumb rubbing circles on her upper arm. He fills her plate with food and continues updating his friends about his life.

Of course, he is keeping his relationship with Y/n out.

It has been two weeks since Y/n’s first heat, and it took almost two days for her heat to conclude and yet, neither of them has had their fill. They have fucked each other in every possible space in their apartment. Day and night, every possible moment.

They had even pulled a quickie in his car before meeting their friends.

“Be my good girl and keep my cum in you. I’ll reward you later,” Atsumu murmured breathlessly. Y/n could only nod as she squeezed her walls and slip off his cock. He assists by slipping her panties back in place before lifting her and placing her gently back in the passenger seat before slipping himself back into his pants.

Aside from Y/n’s lightly pink cheeks, he didn’t think anyone would notice their coupling.

“Are you two… seeing each other?” Their other friend Yuma carefully inquired.

Y/n was the first to calmly deny it and laugh softly, “no, why do you ask?”

The three friends, Yuma, Ryuji, and Masachi, exchange glances, silently acknowledging a shared thought but opting to not broach the subject further.

They didn’t need to.

No one would be stupid enough to even dare look her way with the way that she reeked of Atsumu’s pheromone. It unmistakably screamed she belonged to him, and him alone.

.

The minute passing was only making Atsumu anxious.

Y/n promised to be home thirty minutes ago and it was past the promised time by ten minutes.

Atsumu was aware of his behavior, the possessive behavior he harbored for Y/n. He couldn’t deny it and it only continued to manifest each passing day.

He couldn’t even blame it on his upcoming rut that only seemed to have enhanced with Y/n’s change of pheromone as of late. Atsumu couldn’t quite put his finger on it but something about her has changed and it only made him more addicted to her.

There was one thing that he knew for sure and it was that he was in love with Y/n and wanted her and only her.

.

Y/n was fully aware of Atsumu’s perilous fixation on her.

She had not meant to let their fling go on this long, or at all. It was all a mistake and now… she couldn’t undo it.

She acknowledged that he wasn’t the only one going through this change alone. Y/n too has become possessive of Atsumu. When he would come home with the scent of another omega on him, she would feel her mood turn sour.

Y/n refused to accept it but since having sex with Atsumu, she has not wanted an omega again. She came to terms that she had officially adopted the omega gender, a lot sooner than later for other hybrids. It was inevitable with the amount of sex she was having.

Studies have shown that the more dominant gender would manifest with the amount of climax and chemicals released each time. Whichever gender they possess during their highest climax constantly, their body will begin to adapt to that gender.

It was an addiction, once Y/n had a taste of being an bottom, there was no going back. She craved for Atsumu, his pheromone, his cock deep within her. She craved feeling his thick cock graze and stimulate her pussy walls. She craved being filled to the point her belly bulged.

Y/n began to be delusional. She has never wanted to be knotted so badly, she wanted Atsumu’s knot. She wanted to be bred.

Aware of her behavior and obsession with Atsumu, Y/n tried to meet other alphas… hoping any alpha would do but when she was approached by an alpha at the bar, her nose crinkled in disgust.

It was undeniable that Atsumu was all she wanted.

For a brief moment, she allowed herself to be greedy, to give in and savor all the seconds she could have with Atsumu. She convinced herself that if she took as much as she could from him, she could let him go and move on with their lives.

She fueled his obsession and possessiveness, allowing him to have his way with her, and ravish her body, mind, heart, and soul to his content. After all, she not only wanted something to remember him by but the same for him, even if it was just her body. She’ll make it so that he would only think of her when he would be with future omegas.  

They were constantly having sex everywhere and at any time, morning sex, second-morning sex, before-work sex, after-work sex, shower sex, and bedtime sex. As if they were in a constant heat and rut cycle. She was not blind to Atsumu’s attempts to mark her. Every time he took her from behind, she would freeze when his teeth would graze over her scent gland, where his teeth could puncture the sacred spot that should be reserved for her mate. Her hand would cover the spot but Atsumu has now locked her wrists together above her head.

Y/n has become weak for him, submissive per se, and allowed him to do what he pleases.

But she needed to put an end to it.

Whatever they were doing was unhealthy.

.

“Why – why are you doing this?” His voice wavered, his tone laced with pain.

She waited for him to return home from his daily training and as soon as he entered through their apartment doors, the bright smile he always had faded slowly as he felt the heavy atmosphere in the room. Y/n called for him to take a seat across from her before breaking both their hearts.

“We shouldn’t have even started this in the first place, ‘Tsumu.”  Y/n said calmly, but she was anything but calm.

“Don’t call me that, if you don’t want to be with me anymore you have no right to call me that!” A tear slid down his cheek. “Only the woman I love can call me that.”

Y/n held back her tears and swallowed hard before forcing the words out again. “Atsumu, this thing between us should not have even happened in the first place.”

“Why not?” he argued, “it was like you forced me or I forced you. Everything up until now has happened because we both wanted it, and both needed it. We needed each other!”

“Look at us, we know what happens when you cross that line between friends!”

“So what, we can be lovers now?” Atsumu shot back, roughly wiping his tears away. “We can be boyfriend and girlfriend and whatever more if you want, I don’t care. I just want to be with you. I just want to love you!”

As if a veil lifted, she suddenly realizes he loves her.

Y/n blinked, the tears that filled her eyes slipping down her cheeks as she heard his confession.

“You – you do? Like in a real relationship?” Y/n clarified with a careful tone. She didn’t want to misinterpret his words.

“Fuck yes. Do you want to be in a relationship? Then let’s make it official. Do you want to get married? Let’s get married. You want me to mark you, I’ll be glad to mark you to let the whole universe know you are mine…” Atsumu took steps until he was in front of her. When did she look so fragile, so small? He wrapped an arm around her back while his other hand cupped her cheek, wiping away the tear that slipped down her rosy cheek. “I want whatever you want, just as long as you are by my side. Whatever title you want, you can have it all.” He rests his forehead against hers. “But if you are to ask me, I want you as mine in every possible way.”

Y/n shut her eyes tightly. “Say it again,” her voice was barely above whispering, “say you love me again.”

“I love you, Miya Y/n.” Her eyes snapped open and Atsumu grinned, “you didn’t ask but I’m going to give you my last name, so no backs.” He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers, “tell me, Y/n… tell me you love me too.”

“I love you, Miya Atsumu. I love you.”

His life felt 99% complete, there was only that 1% left.

“Now, tell me you’re going to stay by my side for the rest of our lives?”

Y/n pressed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m going to stay by your side for the rest of our lives.”

.

Her fingers tremble as the third pregnancy test reveals the same thing, a positive result.

“No… how…” she muttered to herself. She dropped it into the garbage can and massaged her temple.

She began experiencing symptoms that she couldn’t avoid and excuse any longer.

Craving, tenderness, and fatigue.

Everything that was pointing to what she was afraid of was pregnancy.

But how? Atsumu has never knotted her.

“Pregnancy can happen without a knot, it is not as common but it can still happen if you are extremely sexually active.” The doctor raised a brow, questioning, “especially if you are not using protection. Are you sexually active? Having unprotected sex more than four times a week?”

Y/n’s ears burned and she was embarrassed to answer the question.

She and Atsumu did use condoms but would forget, losing themselves to the feeling of skin on skin. Y/n was weak to Atsumu’s begging to always cum inside her. It was to feed his ego of knowing she had a part of him inside her at all times.

Her silence and flushed cheeks were all the doctor needed to know. “The chance of conceiving is much higher if you and your partner are extremely active, which is the case since you said your partner has yet to knot you?”

“That is correct,” Y/n answered meekly.

“With this confirmed pregnancy, there is a high percentage of you becoming an official omega.” They explained that Y/n would no longer be a hybrid, and would no longer have any alpha traits.

The doctor placed a booklet before her titled New Mommy and What to Expect and went through it briefly.

Y/n cleared her throat before asking, “my… partner is due for his rut soon… would it be okay to be knotted while… pregnant?”

Her doctor nodded and flipped to page 8, with big and bold letters at the top: Knotting during pregnancy. “You should be fine, if anything, your body will need your partner’s semen to nourish your pregnancy.”

.

Y/n shivered feeling the heavy pheromone throughout the apartment. Now, it made sense as to why she had been sensitive to his pheromone lately, her pregnancy hormones had enhanced all her senses. “Atsumu?”

Before she could check the kitchen, strong arms enveloped her in a tight bear hug. His hot body heat penetrated through her clothing and she was swallowed wholly by his pheromone at straight physical contact.

His nose buried into her neck as he inhaled sharply, “what took you so long?”

He knew of her appointment but it did run slightly longer than she anticipated.

Before she could answer him, he picked her up, throwing her over his shoulders and carrying her to his bedroom.

Y/n blinked, hands pressed against his lower back to steady herself… and at the same time comprehend the sight in front of her.

Atsumu’s bare ass. He was completely naked.

She is dropped onto his bed and is immediately pressed against the mattress with Atsumu’s body which somehow feels larger than usual, she feels so small under his body.

His mouth is hot and heavy on hers, his fingers already pulling and ripping off her clothes just to feel her naked flesh against his.

Y/n gasped, feeling his cock pressed against her abdomen, it sent a jolt to her pussy and she instantly felt herself wet.

Atsumu straddled her small body but kept his weight off of her. The only weight he had on her was the weight of his cock and heavy sacks against her lower abdomen. His eyes are glowing gold and dilated, a trait of an alpha in a rut cycle.

“Y/n,” he groaned, rocking his cock against her bare skin, seeking any sort of physical touch. He was fighting against losing control, he didn’t want to scare or hurt her. “I don’t want to hurt you… but my rut cycle… it can – I’ve been told I’m too rough… I might hurt you…”

Y/n cupped his cheek, “you will never hurt me, ‘Tsumu…”

He nuzzled against their palm, pressing a kiss to it. “I’m happy to hear… You’re made for me... right? You can take my everything I give you, right?”

She nodded her head like an obediently, eager to please. “Yes. Yes, I am made for you. I will take everything you give me, ‘Tsumu.” She widened her legs, offering herself to him, “hurry, give me your knot.”

Her approval and request are all Atsumu needed to hear to be tipped over the edge, to allow his rut cycle to take over and please Y/n.

He flipped her over onto her tummy and lift her ass, his palm came down onto her left cheek, making her yelp before moaning. He rubs his more than ready cock along her slits before pushing it deep within her warm pussy, stretching her to accommodate his rut-size cock.

Atsumu leaned over her, his whole body wrapped around hers from behind as he pressed a light kiss below her ear, murmuring, “relax for me…”

Y/n’s buried face against his comforters helped her control her breathing as she tried to accommodate the size change of his cock, something that was march larger and thicker than usual. Atsumu was already large and thick in the first place, but his rut-size cock was on another level.

“That’s it baby,” he cooed, feeling her ease up. He wasted no time ramming his cock, groaning as he nudged her cervix opening that immediately began spreading. “I’m going to knot you, baby. Give you the knot you deserve.” He leaned back, straightening himself before scooting them to the edge of the bed. He stepped off but kept Y/n remaining at the edge of the bed with her ass still in the same position, with that, he ram his knock repeatedly.

The bed squeaked along with the clapping of their skin on skin.

Atsumu’s fingers dug deeper into Y/n’s hips, pulling her back to meet his thrusts hard and fast, his cock stimulating quickly each time the tip of his cock would touch her cervix opening.

It wasn’t as common to knot on the first time but Atsumu is positive he will knot her. Her cervix has already propped open, encouraging and readily welcoming his knot.

And he will happily oblige.

He withdrew quickly, smirking at her whimper of emptiness. Flipping her onto her back, he smiled down at her and swiftly filled her with his cock once more. “I need to see your face the first time that I knot you.”

Her eyes enlarged, knowing knotting rarely occurred on the first try, at least for her during her rut cycle days.

“Your cervix has already opened for me,” he whispered hotly, fastening his hips. “Your body is ready for me, for my knot.”

Her eyes rolled back as he confirmed it, the tip of his cock pushed past her opening and locked in place. A loud moan escapes from Y/n’s lips as she tightens and curls against him.

His sack emptied its load of cum deep, filling her womb, breeding her.

Atsumu has been impatient, wanting to impregnate her soon, wanting to see her full and round. Wanting to meet their children who will take after Y/n.

He groaned in pain and pleasure. It was true to the rumors, knotting the person you love was different in all the best way possible. The intimate bond was indescribable.

His thumb massaged deep circles into her hip, trying to distract her from the pain of his knot. “You did so well, you’re taking my knot so well…” he murmured, pressing light kisses all over her face.

Atsumu is suddenly hit with a self-awareness of being selfish. He had never even discussed it with her about children yet, here, he had knotted her. It was a 99% chance of guaranteed pregnancy.

He dropped his head beside her and muttered an apology.

“Why are you sorry?” Y/n asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

He rolled them onto his back with her above him. He avoided her eyes, “I knotted you without asking if you would be okay with… being pregnant…” His eyes closed, unable to witness the expression she might give him.

“Atsumu, look at me.”

His eyes snapped open at the tone of her voice, one he had never heard her use on him. Panic surged through him as he searched her eyes. His eyes suddenly fell on her tits, noticing they looked slightly bigger than he remembered.

“My eyes, Atsumu, look at me.”

With flushed cheeks, he reverted his gaze to hers and swallowed. She shifted over his cock, his knot already begun to deflate.

“I had wanted to announce this much differently but… there’s no better time to announce it than now,” she giggled and reached for his hands and pressed them against her belly. “You see, I’m already pregnant.”

Atsumu’s world froze as he processed her last sentence. “Come – come again?”

Leaning down, she pressed her lips to his, “I’m already pregnant, Atsumu. We’re expecting.” Her eyes widened as she squealed, pressing her hands against his strong muscles. “Atsumu!” she shrieked. Atsumu’s cock that was still inside her had instantly become erect once again.

He groaned and pulled her down flushed against him. “My cock is just as excited…” That meant he would get to have all the raw sex, knowing his duty now is to supply her body with all his cum. Rocking his hips he slowly thrusts into her, ignoring how each time he withdrew, his cum would leak.

Y/n pushed against his chest until she settled on her elbows, trapping his head in between them. Her face hovers over his, “the doctor says my gender has officially changed, I’m an omega now. So, no more rut-cycles for me.”

“Good, you’re my omega now,” Atsumu thrust upward, his hand came around the back of her head and pressed her lips against his, “only mine.”

. . .

E/n: :)

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

[r7leee]

you asked, you shall receive !

HEY QUEENS!! i am SO sorry for getting this out so late, your girl was going through it 😭😭 (two concerts, two tests, socratic seminar prep, and finding out i’m bi all in one week). anyway, thanks for waiting, here you go <333

pairing: dom!billie eilish x sub!fem!reader

summary: your girlfriend, billie’s, been doing promo work all day for her business trip. naturally, when she gets back, she wants a piece of you, and though you can offer that to her, you have to be quiet… (continuation of this drabble)

warnings: no direct smut but like a little if you squint (i’m not sure if i’m ready to sail that ship yet), hickeys, exhibitionism kink if you squint, implied-girly/femme!reader

word count: 716, should take about five and a half minutes to read (IT'S SHORT IKKKK I'M SORRY)

IF YOU COULD use one word to describe your girlfriend, one of the last things in your mind would be clingy. handsy? yes. possessive? yes. dominant? oh, ya. but clingy? no, not really.

she only ever got like that when she was away from you for a while or really, really horny; today’s case was the latter.

you two were currently in paris for a bit of promo. you both were very happy you were able to be on this trip, since you were usually subjected to staying at home.

the past few days were relatively normal: getting settled in and a photoshoot. but today was more intense.

today, billie had multiple photoshoots and an interview. she had to wake up early for them, so by the time you were up, she was gone. instead of heading straight for the studio, you decided to treat yourself a bit.

that morning, you ate at a small café and went shopping at the local stores. you got lots of things: jewelry, makeup, accessories, and of course, clothes.

while in a certain store, you found this gorgeous dress. it was sleeveless and shiny in your favorite color, fit with a bow in the back.

you immediately bought it and changed into it before going to visit your girlfriend.

she was on her break when you walked in, hands riddled with bags galore. when she heard the door open, she looked up, a stern expression on her face, but it immediately softened when she saw you. “hi, sweet girl,” she immediately beamed.

you walked over to her, placing a light kiss to her cheek before she cupped your face and kissed you on the lips. “hi,” you replied softly. she smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before you sat on the velvety couch.

“where were you?” you quickly set your bags down, going on about the morning you had. but, she couldn’t help her eyes constantly drifting down to your dress. the way it fit on you, slightly raising up on your thighs was enamoring and she couldn't tear her gaze away.

later, billie was doing a photoshoot as you sat behind the camera and watched. she was stunning with her ocean-blue eyes and long black hair. you weren't aware of it, because, at some point, you had some emails to reply to, but when she wasn't being photographed, she was staring at you. so much so that at some point, the director had to tell her to focus.

that's how you ended up here: in your girlfriend's lap, a hand over your mouth.

“shh…gotta stay quiet, baby, right?” she nodded towards the bathroom.

for this specific trip, like most, you booked a connected room for you two and finneas. but, upon arrival, the staff had informed you there was some kind of plumbing issue in finneas' bathroom, and that the shower there was shut off.

of course, it was unrealistic to make him not shower the whole trip, so right now, he was borrowing yours. you were just wondering why he had to be borrowing it right now

you nodded as she whispered, “good."

at this point, she'd been on you for what, 10 minutes now? you weren't sure how she still had room to keep sucking and marking at your neck, almost similar to a mosquito drawing blood. red and purple hickeys cascaded all over your neck to the point it was almost painful, but you didn't ever tell her to stop. not once. she was too precious for you to tell her no.

every time you heard a noise coming from the bathroom, you turned your head, worried you'd get caught. but, never more than two seconds later, a hand on your jaw would turn you back. "it's fine, baby," billie would whisper. "we're gonna be careful, not get caught," she'd reassure you before attacking your neck again. all you could do was whine.

that was until you heard the door creak open. "fuck." immediately, billie threw a stray blanket over you as she went on her phone. you just stared up at the ceiling.

finneas walked back to his room without a second glance. and as soon as the door shut, your girlfriend took the blanket off you. "come here. we're good now."

[kaleldobrev]

Prologue — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester & Unnamed Hunter Boyfriend (OC)

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 1.5k

Chapter Warnings: Age Gap (15 years) & Self-Loathing Dean

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | Thoughts are in italics | Switches between reader & Dean's POV but it's still written in the second person | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

Dean sat on the edge of his bed looking at his surroundings that he hadn’t seen in so long. Although it’s only been a few months, it felt like an eternity to him. Everything was still in the exact same place he had left it; and he wasn’t sure if he should be relieved about that or not.

Being in his bedroom back in the Bunker came with a wide variety of emotions. He was happy to be back in a place that he had called home for the past several years, a place where he was finally able to have his own room again since he was four years old. But yet, there was another part of him that wanted to take his keys and drive off somewhere. He loved Sam, he loved Cas but, it was hard to face them again after everything he had done, and after everything he had put them through. Not only during the months he was gone, but during the short amount of time they were trying to cure him of a disease he strangely enjoyed.

“You weren’t you,” Sam had told him repeatedly as if he was a broken record. But Dean didn’t believe his words for a second. He enjoyed being a demon more than he liked to admit. Being able to kill whoever he wanted whenever he wanted without consequence fueled him. Being able to fuel the Mark was easy, being a demon was easy. Being a demon weirdly came natural to him.

Sitting at your desk, you endlessly scrolled through news story after news story, trying to find any excuse to leave your apartment, as it was a place that was currently not giving you the usual sense of peace it tended to provide you. Your apartment was usually your safe space, a place that you could relax and unwind in after a tough hunt. But ever since your boyfriend moved in, it had become a place that you no longer felt safe and calm in.

You and your boyfriend hadn't been together for that long — roughly a year — but during a majority of your relationship, it has been argument after argument, and the arguments were always about the same couple of things. He was either disrespecting you or upset that you didn't bring him along on one of your hunting trips.

He hadn't been a hunter for long — barely two years — and you met him within his first year. You had met him while on a werewolf case, as the two of you found the same lead and decided to work together since he really had no experience with werewolves. For some reason, the two of you clicked, and had been together ever since.

Whenever you and him tended to get into an argument, you wondered why you were still with him, knowing that you could do better. He didn't treat you right, and often undermined you in front of other hunters, sometimes taking credit for your own hunts. You tried to rationalize it, often saying that he was the best you were ever going to do because there was no way you could be with someone that wasn't a hunter, as you felt being with someone that wasn't one would put them in more harm, and you couldn't risk it. But the words of your mother started echoing in your head now, "It's better to be alone than to be with someone who disrespects you." You knew she was right; she was always right.

As you were about to give up, a news story finally jumped out at you, and it screamed poltergeist — your specialty.

Dean stared up at the ceiling, wanting more than anything to fall asleep; but the events of the last few months kept replaying in his head. "You weren't you," Sam's words repeated again and again.

No matter how many times Sam's words repeated, Dean still refused to believe it, as when he was a demon, he felt more like himself than he had been in such a long time; and that scared him.

The things that he did as a demon he would have done regardless; but the only reason he did the things that he did was because he knew there were no consequences, his conscience wasn't trying to stop him. Sam or Cas weren't there to stop him especially.

The Mark started itching again, getting hot with need. I need to kill something, he thought.

Getting off the phone with you, Sam sighed, looking at his slinged arm. There was no way he was going to be able to help you with this case, but it was far too late to call you back now; not after he already agreed to help you. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint you, as you were a big help to him while Dean was gone.

Sam was impressed by you to say the least, as despite your age, you were a damn good hunter with a decent amount of experience under your belt. He hadn't known you for very long — meeting you within the last couple of months — but you had quickly become someone he had grown to deeply trust; and he was incredibly thankful for that, and thankful for you.

Placing his phone back into his pocket, he grabbed his duffel bag and started packing some of the essentials. The case you asked him to join you on was one that was pretty straightforward, so he assumed it wouldn't take more than a couple of days. That's when his mind started to wander, wondering why you had asked for his help in the first place, as poltergeists were one of your specialties and it was the type of case that you could do in your sleep, but yet, you asked him for help.

Closing up your laptop, you grabbed it bringing it over to your bed, before going underneath it and grabbing your duffel. You started packing all of the essentials for a case that would only take you a couple of days. The case was an easy one, one that you could easily do in your sleep, but yet, you called Sam Winchester to help you. There was a small twinge of regret after you got off the phone with him, and you debated back and forth as you packed to call him back up again and tell him, 'Never mind, I got this Sammy.' But deep down, you wanted the company; you wanted to be with someone that treated you like an equal unlike your boyfriend.

"Going on a case?" Your boyfriend asked from behind you.

You turned to look at him for a moment, and he was leaning against the doorway, staring at you as you packed. "Yes," you said, plainly. Even if you weren't going on a case, you felt like you didn't need to explain anything to him.

"Where's the case? I can join you," he offered. But his offer wasn't a genuine one, as the only reason he offered to go with you was to try and make up the argument to you in some way. But you weren't in the mood for any of his gestures.

"Tulsa," you said. "I already called another hunter to help me."

"What hunter?" He asked, making his way to the bed so he could sit down on the edge like he usually did whenever you were attempting to pack for a case.

You looked at him again, annoyed that he kept interrupting your packing. He didn't need to know what hunter was going with you, and he didn't know where the case was going to be. But yet, you felt like you needed to tell him in order to get him off your back. "Sam Winchester," you said simply, and you saw his eyes grow wide.

"Sam Winchester?" He questioned. "Really?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with Sam Winchester?" You asked, curious as to what he had to say about him, as you knew he had never met him. But there were times when you and him would be spending time with fellow hunters, and he would claim that he knew Sam; a bold statement that, whenever said, you tried to hold back a laugh.

“Nothing it’s just…the Winchester’s tend to get a lot of their partners killed,” he said. Your brows furrowed, not only because you were confused on where he heard that, but you’ve hunted with Sam a few times already, and your boyfriend never brought that up to you before.

“I’ve hunted with Sam a few times now, and I’m still alive,” you said, zippering up your duffel. “He’s a great hunting partner, very careful.”

“For now, you’re alive and for now he’s being careful. What happens when he bails on you to save himself?” Your boyfriend asked, his tone excitable now.

“I don’t know because I know for a fact that won’t happen,” your tone was serious and stern, defensive. Despite not knowing Sam for a long time, you trusted him more on hunts than your own boyfriend. “I trust Sam.”

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 1

Tag List: | @roseblue373 | @snakebxtez | @deanwanddamons | @missy420-0 | @hannahisthebanana | @madzzz0797 | @livingordeadwhoknows | @grx-deanslovr | @nancymcl | @jacklesbrainworms | @savagemickey03 | @deanbrainrotwritings | @rachiem4-blog | @syrma-sensei | @justletmereadfanfic | @deans-daydream | @midorimachisenpaii | @anamiad00msday | @beansproutmafia | @queenie32 | @deansbbyx | @deans-spinster-witch | @ficmesideways | @frozenhuntress67 | @coldspoons | @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden | @androah | @zulema222 | @k-l-a-w-s | @the-achievementhunter | @k-slla | @mrlonelycat | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @ladysparkles78 | @jackles010378 | @zepskies | @mrsjenniferwinchester | @globetrotter28 | @missscarlettangel | @foxyjwls007

[skittles-secrets]

can I please request how Bruce would react to the reader getting jealous of someone else trying to flirt with him? could be funny or cute or reassuring maybe — tysm! 🫶

your husband invited you to a gala and u get jelly

in all of your time as a married couple (all of six months) he had never invited you to a wayne family gala. he hosts one every month or so. you figured he had his reasons. he figured you knew you were always welcome. you didn't put that one together, though.

you were never really a jealous person, that wasn't what you were like or how you liked to think. he trusted you, so you trusted him and that's how you guys worked. you didn't even know how mad it would make you when you saw other people trying to take your place as his number one, especially when you knew all they wanted from him was his money.

either way, backtracking to a few hours ago, that was the case. now, it's not. you were sitting in bruce's office as he planned for the next wayne gala. he decided that this month it should be an elegant gala, and every elegant man had an elegant partner on his arm for even more elegance, duh.

he patted his thigh to invite you to sit. you did as he asked. he invited you to do it because he knew you liked to anyways. "say, y/n, what do you think of joining me to the next wayne gala?" he asked you. he had an air of nonchalance in his tone, but it didn't match with the apprehension on his eyebrows or the little 'please' that slipped past his lips in a small breath.

you hesitated. you didn't have clothes for something like that. "you're making the face," he pointed out in your silence. he told you he'd be sure to let you know every time you made the worry face, and he had really held true to that so far. "you're thinking about the clothes. i bought you three outfits hand-tailored, you can pick."

--

needless to say, you were convinced. it didn't matter what you said, he was just too persuasive. so as people flooded in through the main front door of the wayne manor, you sat back and watched it happen. bruce had a gentle hand on your shoulder, ready to introduce you to anyone who was curious.

nobody really did ask, though, so you walked away to get the two of you something to drink. you had alfred pick something for you because you weren't sure what you'd like, but alfred always knows what your preferences are. you'd only been gone for less than a minute, and there were already three people flirting with him.

you could spot a blonde girl, a brunette man, and a woman with black hair. seriously? all it took was 20 seconds and the vultures were already out to get him? you figured that was why he never invited you to a gala before, he didn't want you to be upset with him for things he couldn't control like he usually does.

you approached the group and hooked your arm under bruce's. you smiled at the guests. you figured the 'billionaire-playboy-playboy-no-longer' article didn't really reach the directed masses. he sighed in relief when he saw your face. "oh, right, jenna, chloe, and wyatt, this is my spouse, y/n. this is the first gala they've been to since we got married. don't they look wonderful tonight?"

he said this all with a charming smile on his face. you could so trust him. how could anyone not? you knew he was a very trustworthy man and he'd done nothing but prove it to you more and more every day you spent together. he intertwined your fingers together, and it revealed your expensive ring.

you didn't even have to yell at him to say all that? you felt so special. the group tired of the taken man very quickly and dispersed in search of another rich dude to hog.

"bruce! that was so nice! i love you." you said quickly. you were so charmed. that smile really did do wonders on people's thoughts for him, that was for sure. he looked down at you and kissed your forehead. then, he used his index finger and thumb to make you look up at him so he could kiss your lips ever so gently.

you really made no mistakes showing up to that gala.

thank you so much for this request anon and i hope this is what you were looking for.

[ghcstao3]

Civilian Soap x Ghost

Ghost is in the Scottish Highlands for something, everyone else only knowing him as a visitor. He bumps into Soap a few times and is invited to stay for a round of drinks whenever he wants a break.

Something goes wrong and there is no safe house, so Ghost has to ask Soap if he can stay.

Ghost promptly gets a family meal to welcome him. He ends up being well clothed, shelted and fed as he slots perfectly into their dynamic. Rather close to Soap as the night goes on.

By the end of the stay Ghost is freely cuddling Soap on the couch like a happy cat and might as well be purring.

Ghost doesn’t exactly remember when or how he met John MacTavish, but in this moment, he’s never been more grateful.

Stranded in Middle-of-Nowhere, Scotland, with his only option for a safe house being barely less than 200km away when a low-stakes operation had somehow gone to shit, Ghost is sitting in a decrepit phone booth, praying for John to pick up his phone.

There’s finally a click on the other end of the line, as painfully early in the morning as it is, followed by a sleepy, “H’llo?”

“Johnny,” Ghost murmurs. His initial checks had told him he hadn’t been followed, but just in case. “It’s Simon.”

John seems to brighten up at this. “Simon! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I—“ Ghost grimaces beneath his mask. “I need a place to stay. But I can’t… tell you why.”

“‘S no biggie,” John says, then yawns. “Can you tell me where you are? I assume you need a ride.”

Ghost rattles off what he thinks is the location after squinting at some yellowing and torn flyers pasted on the sides of the booth, and for a long moment is met with silence.

He begins to worry the line’s gone dead when John exclaims, “Oh! That’s closer to my parents’ than my flat. I was actually goin’ up for a visit soon but I’m sure we can rearrange some things. I can be there in… say two hours?”

“Sure, yeah,” Ghost agrees before be can give it any more forethought. Because, yes it’s a place to stay—but with John’s parents?

He can almost hear John’s smile through the line. “Perfect. See you soon, Si.”

John hangs up, and Ghost puts the phone back on the hook with a sigh. Now, he waits.

And definitely doesn’t worry about meeting John’s parents more than he should. He’s friends with John—why should it matter? It’s not weird.

It’s not.

Ghost slumps against the side of the phone booth and lets his eyelids fall shut.

* * *

It had taken maybe two and half hours for John to arrive, but the drive to his parents’ is only forty or so minutes. John happily chats Ghost’s ear off the entire way, catching him up from the last time they’d talked, skillfully avoiding any mention of the situation Ghost is in.

John does his best to reassure Ghost over and over that he had talked to his parents, they’re fine with him staying however long he needs to until something more official comes along, and it helps a little.

Ghost still feels guilty for intruding.

But true to his word, John’s parents greet him with friendly smiles and welcoming words, ushering Ghost into their home with the familiarity of old friends—or perhaps even family.

The guilt does wear down little by little, as pleasant conversation is made, and, just as John had, no questions are asked about Ghost’s circumstances. Ghost wonders if that’s John’s doing, or if John had fed them some story just to avoid it. Either way, Ghost appreciates it.

He’d rather not think of his next steps for just a little while, as Price is surely piecing some of it together for him.

Ghost is made dinner later in the evening, and all three MacTavishes present insist there’s no issue in Ghost occupying John’s room for the night (he’d already promised to leave the next day, even if that means he winds up in a hotel instead).

He takes the couch anyway. He ignores the look John’s parents share when Ghost says, “It’s Johnny’s room, and I’m only here for one night,” ignores the blush that spans from John’s ears down his neck when they mouth ‘Johnny?’ in his direction.

And now, Ghost stands in the emptied out living room, just taking a moment to breathe. Because while he’s eternally grateful for the hospitality, he’s just a little worn out.

“You’re allowed to sit, you know.”

Attention pulled away from his thoughts, Ghost glances to John, who’s smiling crookedly as he holds an armful of pillows and a thick blanket. He dumps them on the sofa, plops himself down, and pats the seat beside him.

Ghost sits, and as he sinks into the cushions, realizes just how exhausted he is.

“You don’t have to tell me,” John is saying, “I mean, I know you can’t—but is this… was it a work thing that brought you here?”

Ghost hums an affirmative. His body is taking over before his mind can think twice, leaning over enough to rest his head on John’s shoulder. Tired, is all he can think. John laughs.

“There, there,” he teases. “Big scary military man’s a little sleepy, is he?”

Ghost swats at John with a mumbled shut up.

Civilian or not—there’s always been something different about him. With him.

John snorts. “Well, c’mere, then. Don’t be shy.”

Ghost complies easily, tucking further into John’s side like it’s second nature. Like it’s been months since he’s last seen the man.

Friends, is how Ghost has thus far labelled them. How Price would laugh his ass off hearing that.

At some point John begins to card his fingers through Ghost’s hair—he’s never worn the mask around him, never felt the need to—and between that moment and the next, Ghost is fast asleep, curled up with John like something a little more than just friends.

Fleetingly, Ghost thinks, just moments before his brain shuts off—I should visit him more.

[anthurak]

So by this point, I think many of us are likely familiar with the idea that the breakup of Team RWBY at the end of Volume 3 is meant to thematically parallel the breakup of Team STRQ in the wake of Summer’s death, ie; Ruby falls into a coma for a few days while Summer disappears and then both their teams fracture. Along with a popular sub-theory that Blake leaving Yang after the Fall is meant to parallel Raven leaving Tai.

But the thing is, if Ruby falling into a coma at the end of Volume 3 is meant to parallel Summer’s (supposed) death and the way this loss caused the fracturing and breakup of their respective teams, then Raven’s actions DON’T really parallel Blake nearly as well as a lot of people think.

And in fact, I feel like Qrow could potentially have paralleled Blake’s actions FAR better.

Like people talk about how Raven ‘abandoned’ Tai just like Blake ran away from Yang after the Fall of Beacon. Except if the point of parallel to the Fall of Beacon is Summer’s death, then the parallel doesn’t work because Raven was ALREADY GONE from Team STRQ by the time Summer disappeared. To the point where Tai, Qrow and Ozpin had (and still have) NO IDEA she was even involved in whatever happened to Summer. Raven can’t exactly have abandoned Tai just like Blake did to Yang if Raven wasn’t even around.

Instead, as I’ve discussed in the past, I think Raven’s actions following Summer’s ‘death’ potentially line up far better with WEISS. Like if it turns out that losing Summer was what actually drove Raven to return to her tribe, then that lines up very nicely with Weiss being taken back to her family/Atlas in the wake of the Fall of Beacon: Both return to the shitty, abusive family that raised them. And given how much of Weiss’s character is tied up in her family and their ‘legacy’, then the way Raven eventually took over her tribe makes her an ideal foil; effectively representing a Weiss who did eventually take over the Schnee family and company, but in the process internalized all the pain and trauma her family gave her.

And as for a cherry on top; if Ruby falling into a coma after the Fall of Beacon is meant to parallel Summer’s supposed ‘death’, then what was one of the last things Ruby did at the Fall?

Run off on a special mission with Weiss, just like we now know Summer did with Raven.

Now going back to my point about how Raven was not even around to abandon Tai just like Blake did to Yang, you know who WAS presumably around when Summer ‘died’?

Yeah; Qrow.

Let’s consider what exactly Blake actually did following the Fall of Beacon beyond just a surface-level reading: Yes, she did go back to her family, similar to what Raven may have done, but given that the Belladonnas are NOT actually shitty and abusive, I maintain that Weiss is still the better parallel to Raven. Instead, let’s consider Blake’s whole arc across Volumes 4 and 5 relating to the White Fang: At first being depressed over loss and perceived failure before being inspired to start working for a better cause, in this case pushing back against and stopping Adam’s takeover of the White Fang.

So I have to wonder; what if this reflects what Qrow did with Ozpin and the conspiracy following Summer’s ‘death’? Maybe Qrow and his teammates had helped Ozpin in the past and knew what he was doing, but what if THIS was the point where Qrow became fully committed to Ozpin’s cause and joined the Ozluminati full-time? Perhaps seeing it as a way of ‘honoring’ Summer’s memory.

Instead of staying with the one teammate he had left (and possible partner) who was now in a massive depressive spiral AND had two kids to take care of.

It starts to make Qrow and Tai feel a lot like Blake and Yang, doesn’t it?

This is one of the big reasons why I think Qrow and Tai are the REAL foil to Bumbleby on Team STRQ. They effectively give us a look at a version of Blake and Yang whose relationship failed. Or rather, were never able to ‘take the next step’ and actually form their relationship.

Qrow is a Blake who fully internalized her self-loathing and belief that she didn’t deserve Yang or that Yang was better off without her and has simply been pining for Yang from afar.

Meanwhile Tai is a Yang who likewise fully internalized her fears of abandonment and fully resents Blake for leaving her or may not have ever even fully recognized her feelings for Blake in the first place.

Essentially, Qrow and Tai are the version of Blake and Yang who weren’t able to work through all the problems, issues and baggage which allowed them to actually start their relationship. Like a Blake who didn’t get that vital pep-talk from Sun at the end of Volume 4, or a Yang who likewise didn’t get that vital talk from Weiss in Volume 5.

Which in turn leads us to what I brought up earlier with Qrow joining up with the Ozluminati full-time, essentially representing a Blake who threw herself into reforming the White Fang instead of returning to Team RWBY and reconnecting with Yang. Meanwhile Tai simply throws himself into a deep depression, grief and ‘moping’, ironically all the things he would later accuse Yang of doing (at some point I’m going to do a post on just how much PROJECTING Tai has likely been doing…)

So now Qrow and Tai have this low-key toxic relationship where Qrow is more-or-less aware of Tai’s extremely dysfunctional parenting but has also been enabling it and a lot of Tai’s unhealthy coping mechanisms over the years because he’s been pining for Tai ever since their Beacon days and still is pining in a very depressed, self-loathing ‘I don’t deserve him/to be happy’ way and also doesn’t want to risk conflict with his former partner and also the only teammate he has left.

Thus Qrow keeps his distance and just goes along with Tai’s dysfunctions and/or lets Tai push him away. Which in turn just reinforces Tai’s abandonment issues.

And Ruby and Yang are still stuck with utterly dysfunctional parental figures.

Oh, and if you need more proof about the deliberate parallels between Blake and Qrow…

Then how about the whole damn song where they sing about how they’ve always felt terrible about themselves but now things are looking up for them.

[girlofthesunxoxo]

porn star dancing | james wilson

synopsis: y/n is a neuro-oncologist in wilson’s department and whenever she gets out of work, she works at a strip club. tonight is masquerade night which works in her favor when she sees her boss and his friend.

note: i have no medical knowledge or dancing knowledge so im flying blind here 😭 so if anything seems a little off, its because of that LMAO. also y/n is in her mid to late twenties while james is in his mid to late thirties.

y/n was just finishing up with a patient, making sure they were feeling fine after their surgery when she got a call from her friend, sheila. she excused herself from the room and went into a random hallway.

“oh hey, sheila ! whats up ?”

“hey, y/n ! im sorry to ask but can you take over my shift today ? my mom has come down with a really bad cold and i have to take care of her.” her apologetic tone evident in her voice.

“oooh um yeah im already finishing up here so i’ll be on my way over there in about thirty minutes !”

“oh my gosh, thank you thank you thank yoooou. i owe you big time !”

y/n lightly chuckled, “okay okay, ill call you later ! i need to talk to my boss really quickly.”

“okay bye !! also in case you forgot, tonight’s theme is masquerade.”

“yes yes, i remember the theme, i think i saw my costume there a few days ago. okay we’ll talk later, bye bye !”

she hung up before making her way towards her dr. wilson’s office. she knocked on the door and went inside after hearing a quiet, “come in.” she stood in front of his desk with her hands clasped in front of her, nervous about what she was about to ask.

“hello dr. l/n, what do you need ?” he asked with a polite smile on his face.

“hi dr. wilson, um i was wondering if i could leave a bit early today, i am already finished with our brain surgery patient and i think i have all my clinic hours done for this week !” she nervously rambled which james took notice to.

he quietly laughed and shook his head, “yes you can but if i may ask, what is the reason you need to leave early for ? you never leave early. are you feeling okay ?” his casual expression slightly changing to a more concerned look.

“oh no im feeling alright !” she knew she couldnt tell him the truth. how many people have gone to their very attractive boss and told them they couldnt work because they had to go to their second job which is a strip club. not a lot, she assumed.

“i just have to babysit m-my sister’s kids, shes not feeling the best !” her lie came out with little struggle.

“oh well i hope she is feeling better soon but yes you can go for the rest of the night.”

“okay thank you so much, dr. wilson !”

she quickly turned and walked out of the room with fast beating heart and blushed cheeks. there were times she hated how she had a slight crush on her boss. this was one of those times and it didnt help that his friend, dr. house was standing outside his door staring at her with a smirk. she tried to move past him but he put his cane in front of her stomach which stopped her movements.

“what do you need, dr. house ?” she tried to ask politely but she was in a little of a rush.

“yeah, why are you coming out of wilson’s office looking like you just finished riding him into oblivion ? oh im sure you would like that, right ?” his words made her blush as the thought of her on top of james has been a recurring dream of hers.

“u-um well im - im sorry, im in a r-rush to be-“ she was interrupted by the door opening and james’s annoyed voice filling her ears.

“house ! let her leave, please.” he rolled his eyes while shoving his cane away from y/n’s stomach. she smiled thankfully while rushing to the front doors to leave seeing as she had a few minutes before her shift started. as she was leaving, she heard dr. house’s fading words, “you know she has a-“ she didnt know what else he was going to say.

she drove to the club and quickly greeted all the other dancers while getting into her clothes which was black fishnets with very short red shorts that looked like underwear with little sparkly fringe that flowed every time she moved and a matching bra with the same fringe. (think of the girls from “but its better if you do” music video 😉).

she picked up some random black high heels that were covered in black glitter and she heard the crowd cheering as it was almost time for the dancers to come out .

she hurriedly did her makeup which was just more eyeliner and eyeshadow than she used for her day job.

sheila let her know on the drive that she was going to be in the spotlight which meant she could pick the song and be right in the center of the stage.

y/n was very anxious, she had only been in the center stage maybe two times despite being told by everyone that she was awesome but having that many eyes on her was very nervewrecking. that says a lot considering she literally works as a doctor and has to perform surgeries sometimes.

she picked the song “porn star dancing” considering she practiced at home days prior, just in case somebody needed her to take on their shift.

the microphone crackled before a loud voice came on, “lets give a biiiig round of applause for our dancers !” two girls gave y/n a “goodluck” before heading out to their poles which were on either side of the center pole.

“and let us let our main dancer for the night know how much we looove her, welcome to the stage, mrs. vibraaaant vixen !”

y/n quickly put on her red, glittering mask with tall feathers which only covered her eyes. she let out a big breath to calm her nerves and strutted out the curtain, the song she chose began playing in the background.

kelly wont kiss my friend kassandra

jessica wont play ball

y/n slowly strutted to the pole and grabbed it with one hand as she circled it making sure to sway her hips.

mandy wont share her friend, miranda

doesnt anybody live at all

amanda wont leave me empty handed

got her number from a bathroom stall

she squatted behind the pole before slowly getting up with her ass up first and slowly moving her body up. the cheers made her feel confident and her nervousness slowly went away.

brandy just got way too much baggage

and that shit just gets old (hey)

she rolled her hips in a circle while her hands wandered up her body then behind her neck to flip her hair to the side.

but i got a girl who can put on a show

the dollar decides how far you can go with her

she wraps those hands around that pole

her movements followed the lyrics as she wrapped her hands around the pole then crouched down while rolling her hips to every beat.

she licks those lips and off we go

she takes it off nice and slow cause thats porn star dancing (hey)

she slowly pick herself up with the pole and pushing her chest flush against it before she circled it and stopped right in front of it, giving the audience a full view of her ass. she turned around and started looking at the crowd while she circled her hips.

she dont play nice, she makes me beg

and she drops that dress around her legs

and im sitting right by the stage for this porn star dancing

as she looked over the crowd of men and the occasional woman, she spotted one familiar face and her heart almost stopped. it was her boss, dr. james wilson. at her strip club. with dr. house who was grinning as if he won the lottery. they were both cheering before dr. house muttered something in james’s ear before he turned wide eyed towards her on the pole.

she quickly circled the pole and stopped behind it keeping her head down slightly, her hands roaming her body and rolling her hips as she turned around, her ass on display as she crouched while rolling her hips. she felt mortified knowing her boss was more than likely watching her ass.

your body’s lighting up the room

now i want a naughty girl like you

theres nothing hotter than that

she turned around on her knees and flipped her hair to the side, her eyes catching james’s eyes. he mouthed “y/n ?!” she averted her eyes as she got up, ass first.

stacy’s gonna save herself for marriage but thats just not my style

shes got a pair thats nice to stare at

but i want girls gone wild (hey)

groping her boobs (😭) at that one lyric, she felt her body go hot, the thought finally registered that her boss/little crush was seeing her half naked body while she should be helping people. shame gnawed at her as she kept her head slightly down.

but i know a place where theres always a show

the dollar decides how far you can go with her

she wraps those hands around that pole

she picked herself up onto the pole and swung herself around it a few times. the cheers got even louder and people tossed some dollars on the stage.

she licks those lips and off we go

she takes it off nice and slow cause thats porn star dancing (hey)

she dont play nice, she makes me beg

she drops that dress around her legs

the pole and the swinging was making her muscles ache but she kept on going. her back flushed against the front of the pole, she picked herself up until her legs wrapped around the pole and her upper body was spinning around. she took her hands off the pole, waved and blew kisses at the crowd which caused them to cheer harder.

she could see james clapping with his mouth open and smiling while house was cheering louder than anybody there, she smiled at the sight.

and im sitting right by the stage for this porn star dancing (hey)

your body’s lighting up the room

i want a naughty girl like you

lets throw a party just for two

you know those normal girls wont do

as she slowly descended down the pole, she put her hands on the floor and unwrapped her legs from it so she can kick her legs away and landed upright like a half cartwheel.

the part of the song where no lyrics are on is her favorite because she can do some random dance on the pole and the crowd will go wild. she swings herself on the pole, holding it with her ankles before climbing and wrapping her inner leg/knee around the pole while her other leg is standing on the pole. still spinning, she straightens her leg so it is poking outwards.

then she bends both legs, one on the outside of the pole and one inside holding her and takes her hands off to let go of the pole so she can clasp them behind her while spinning so shes spinning sideways.

she can hear people cheering and whooping and some just plain yelling.

she wraps those hands around that pole

she licks those lips and off we go

and she takes it off nice and slow

cause thats porn star dancing (hey)

as the spinning slows down, she grabbed the pole and unwrapped her legs while positioning herself upright again. now that shes upright, she tries to gauge everyone’s reactions, some of the dancers not performing were clapping and yelling as were a lot of the men. some had their mouths slightly open and others were just cheering.

but only one had her interested, james had a full blush on his cheeks and he stood there in disbelief while house tapped his shoulder to telling him that shes looking at him. he waves and she let one hand let go to wave back.

she dont play nice, she makes me beg

she drops that dress around her legs

and im sitting right by the stage

for this porn star dancing (hey)

she hopped down from the pole and rolled her hips like she did when the song first started. she was completely out of breath while her body was covered in a light sheen of sweat. her muscles ached when she walked back towards the curtain but not before turning around and looking james straight in the eye and blew a kiss while the crowd started cheering and whooping.

she passed the curtains and let out a deep breath. her whole body ached and she knew she would be a little sore the next day but it was worth it. seeing everybody’s expressions, especially james’s expression made the whole thing worth it.

all the girls came up to her and hugged her while telling her how much they loved the dance and how beautiful she did. all the compliments made her blush as she changed into her regular clothes which just consisted of jeans and a black long sleeve.

y/n made her way out the dressing room and managed to avoid seeing her boss and house. she still felt shame and embarrassment that her own boss, the person who signs her paychecks, saw her half naked body sensually dancing on a pole. she’s had nightmares about that. she was already half way out the front door before a cane stopped her from walking.

she only closed her eyes and sighed, “what do you need, dr. house ?”

“woah how did you know that was me ?!” his childlike glee was a little annoying to y/n, any other day she wouldve indulged in his jokes but her entire body ached and she just wanted to sleep.

“hm i dont know, maybe the fact that i saw you earli-“

he interrupted, “while you were sexy dancing and getting all the guys turned on, i swear i saw all of them with tents in their pants !” he rolled his eyes and lets out a little grunt, “ugh men.”

she sarcastically smiled, “ugh men indeed, including the one that is wasting my precious time right now.”

“what, are you taking one of those greasy little guys home ? you know im sure you’ll have a lot more fun with me.” his smirk is enough to tell her that he’s joking and he reached out to touch her arm before the front door creaked open and another hand gripped his wrist.

“house.” wilson’s slightly irritated voice cuts in.

house let out a big gasp before whipping his head around to face her, “daddy caught us ! i wonder how he’s going to punish us.”

y/n didnt let her eyes travel to james, still embarrassed by what he saw. she chuckled at house’s words before she stood on her tippy toes and leaned close to house’s face, “hm i dont think i’ll have fun with you, i actually like it when a man is below me and you seem like the type that cant handle that.” she leaned back down and pushed his cane away from her, walking back to her car while hearing james’s laugh.

she waved her hand and said, “goodnight guys, hope to see you here another day !” she heard house say “i hope so too !” she shook her head and laughed.

“wait, y/n !” james shouted while jogging towards her.

oh god, this is where she gets fired or he suspends her. she braced herself for bad news and turned to face her boss.

james had a wide smile, “y/n, you were incredible !”

she blushed and looked at her feet which were starting to hurt from standing and dancing all day.

“thank you, dr. wilson.”

“james, call me james.”

“okay well thank you, james !” she said softly.

he still had a soft smile on his face, “why didnt you tell me you worked here ?”

“i thought it wasnt appropriate, imagine telling your boss that you work at a strip club. how embarrassing ! i mean, im embarrassed right now !” she laughed.

he laughed with her, “i guess that’s true but i wouldve preferred that over finding out from house and losing twenty bucks.”

“you lost twenty bucks to house ?”

“he said that you worked at a club and i didnt believe him so we bet on it. imagine my surprise when i see my prettiest employee dancing on stage.” he rolled his eyes as he glanced at y/n, noticing her biting her lip to contain a smile and her blushed cheeks.

“well i guess i owe you twenty bucks, huh ?” she teased. his eyes creased as he chuckled and rubbed a hand over his face.

“well i wouldnt object.”

“okay how about i get us both muffins in the morning ! my treat, obviously.” she mused while tapping a finger to her chin in thought.

he grinned at her as they stopped in front of her car, “i would love that.”

“i would love to continue this conversation but i need to sleep because my body is killing me.” she tiredly groaned. he lightly smiled and waited for her to get into her car before saying goodnight and walking back to the strip club.

“also !” she yelled from her car window.

he turned around.

“tell house that i meant what i said. him and his leg wont be able to handle me on top.” she winked and rolled up her window, finally making her way home.

his eyes twinkled as he laughed, “i will keep that in mind.” he muttered with a flushed face.

[bullet-prooflove]

Disloyal: Terry Silver x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @thedeadsingforme @eddieslut69 @mia1653 @kimbergoldess

Companion piece to:

Attention - Terry hasn't been paying you enough attention.

Distance - Terry and you struggle with emotional distance as the embezzlement case continues.

Twenty Four Hours - You come home from your trip to spend 24 hours with your husband.

When Terry runs into Cassandra, he’s eating alone in his favourite restaurant, going over the questions the investigators were asking him during the latest round of depositions. He's trying to work out which way they’re leaning in regards to his complicity. He wants to call you, talk it out but it’s 1am in Madrid and he knows you’ll be sleeping.

He doesn’t register Cassandra sitting down across from him, not until she reaches out and touches his hand. His eyes raise up to meet hers and he’s taken back to twenty years ago, when he first met her at an Narcotics Anonymous meeting in Beverly Hills. She’d been in recovery for popping pills for almost two years at that point and he’d just got his one year sobriety chip.

She was the first woman he fucked sober.

Their relationship had started with coffee. He connected with her because she understood his struggle. He found her easy to talk to, non-judgemental. It’s the same now as he tells her about the stress he’s under, the depositions and the physical distance between the two of you.

“I miss her.” He says as he sips from a glass of top shelf whiskey. “It’s starting to feel unbearable.”

“I know what it’s like to be lonely.” She responds squeezing his hand. “It can feel like a chasm deep down in your heart.”

That’s exactly what it feels like, it’s as if he’s staring into the abyss and there’s just this darkness eating him up inside.

He’s drunk by the time the restaurant closes. He doesn’t know where the hours have gone. He’s enjoyed having company this evening, setting the world to rights, laughing again. He does the gentlemanly thing and helps Cassandra into her jacket and she smiles before she tucks herself under his arm, a little wobbly on her heels. He’s not fond of the proximity, it feels disloyal to the woman whose sleeping alone almost six thousand miles away, on a trip the two of them should have been taking together.

He shifts away as Cassandra’s car pulls up, tucking his hands into his trousers so she doesn’t try to initiate any more physical contact.

“I’ve missed you Terry.” She says brushing up against him. Her fingertips trail along the lapels of his jacket, her head tilted up so her lips are perilous close. “Come home with me tonight. Your pretty little wife would never have to know.”

“I’d know.” He says, his voice brittle. “And the last thing I’d ever do is betray my wife.”

She withdraws then, hurt clouding her features and Terry can’t bring himself to care because he’s staring into the abyss again, wondering how he’s going to survive the next couple of months without you.

It’s the next day that he storms into the conference room where the depositions are being held. He’s done playing nice, trying to be cordial. The past few months of his life have been on hold because of the crime that’s been committed against him and he’s sick of being treated like the villain, when it was him who raised the flag in the first place.

“Charge me or let me go.” He tells them. “I have a plane to catch.”

Love Terry? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[ur-mousey]

Benzo-Addict ~

- Yandere!Jeffery x F!Reader -

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Part One, Part Three

summary Drugs have always been your friend. A source of courage and tonight's no different. Now it's time to fuck a nerd. Hope your BF understands. 1k warning mature, non-con, hostage situation, abusive relationship cycle

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Oh... You came back. You aren't just a spinless quitter. Perhaps you’re a fucking psychopath. But fuck on, I guess.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jeffery had a lot of nervous ticks. He was a time bomb of sorts. And he was imploding at the seams right before your eyes. You noticed it as lab partners when research came out dry or when the hypothesis was proven wrong. But, you kept them noted in the recesses of your mind. Never thinking that you would see today as you do.

He rambled to himself, undiscernible to you. Jeffery picked his teeth with the tip of his knife. Like you'd caught him with his cutesy anime pens not too long ago. He would shake all over doing minuscule tasks and you joked about it with him. You'd wondered, cheekily, how could organizing papers cause someone to tremble more than a leaf?

But, in this case, he was gagging your boyfriend. Seem pretty fucking reasonable now. And you couldn't stop it. You watched. Wrist cleaned of bondage while Cody whipped his head around. It being all he could do. "Fuck off me! And my girl!!" His voice was a visceral growl, hoarse from his prior screeching. "You micro dick ince~ Hmhph."

"Stay silent like a good dog for a sec." Jeffery patted Cody's shoulder. He turned to you with a soft desolate smile. He padded over to you in a mere flash. "Hey you~ I'd told you to sleep, didn't I? It'll help. When I get you home, it'll be like this nightmare never happened."

"W-wh... Why?" You stuttered through the fatigue. The drugs were in the deepest reservoir of your stomach, begging to be felt in a dream. Yet you wheezed at the idea of losing this moment. This might be the last thing you ever see. "Don't hurt him."

Jeffery sighed, "Don't be like that, darling." He nodded towards your boyfriend. "He had it coming. Look at him. He's lookin' back at you." Shakily you looked over Jeffery's frame to see Cody more clearly. He was right, his eyes were on you. "Disgusting, ain't he."

Snot and tears choked him further than the soiled sock could. You'd never seen Cody so helpless. And you'd thought yourself capable of fleeing, but he would remain for dead, and your feet stilled at its iron gates. You've wished him gone a handful of times, but never like this.

"I have a few ideas," Jeffery continued, he gripped your hair, tugging you closer to his chest. "He's a shitty jock and a lowlife dragging you down. You've seen Corpse Party? Maybe I'll cut his tongue up like... Woah oh, easy there."

Every curse came to mind, aimed and sharpened at the back of his skill. You would damn him to hell and father down the pipeline if you could. But, You opted to squirm and whine out of Jeffery's grasp.

His slight hand tremors felt jarring against your scalp. You had held them once. The thought petrified you more so than Cody's muffled mulls.

"Calm down, please. You'd promise yourself that today would be the last, right? I'm giving that to you now!" You flinched at Jeffery's tone. Your eyes are wide and watering. "Don't give me that look. I knew you wouldn't see this from my perspective, but I'm doing this for you!"

You stilled, blanched, and mortified, by Jeffery's words. How would he know? You promised yourself throughout yesterday, Wednesday, and the day before that. You wanted out of this life. Cody wasn't the best. He was a sleaze, as Nicole puts it. But he was your definition of normal.

"That means jack shit," You squealed. The past doesn't matter. That promise doesn't, not at this moment.

Mornings started with arguments. You stoic in the face of him calling you the nastiest of names imaginable. Your insecurity set ablaze with accuracy. He never laid a hand on you. You couldn't say the same for the drywall, littered with the impressions of violent spouts. And Cody would be your most vocal supporter when you're high.

He'd call you the prettiest slut around for miles, rubbing his thumb over the flush of your checks from mystery shots. Cody begged for your lips to be on him constantly. And he desired your hips rocking over his shaft, causing you to spasm. He liked you sensitive. Despite your lack of control, he'd ask you to squeeze your drugged-up pussy around his cock, urging you to squirt down his balls.

Then by morning, he'll start tearing you down again, and you'll realize Cody hardly touches you sober.

It was normal. And each day you promised yourself you'd leave, you played further into the game. You'll think to yourself: What a fucking asshole, keeping praises locked behind a firewall of Xannies and Oxy.

But, you'll stay despite each passing day. You had told Jeffery about it, briefly -during a massive hangover no less. That didn't mean you wanted your boyfriend murdered. Without Cody, you'd be abnormal.

"It doesn't matter, he..." Jeffery laughed, his nerves spilling past his braced teeth. He nuzzled his nose along your eyebrow. And you felt on the verge of pissing yourself. "He brainwashed you. It's fine to be confused. Sleep off the drugs. We'll be home when you wake."

"Why?"

"Why what? Becoming sober would do you great."

You winced, "No? Why're you doing this."

Jeffery paused. He scratched at his temple. "Is it not obvious? I want you... badly. Not just your body, even though it's immaculate. You... um, have curves where I like them the most. And it's not every day I meet a pretty girl who loves anime and who's nice to me. Hello, you watched Pretty Cure and Sailor Moon. You were my only true friend. You could keep up with me like my Discord homies. And, um."

He was rambling. Fuck. You didn't know liking childish anime would get you here. Eight-year-old you was a bitch fucking whore~

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

** Choice ** Skip past Jeffery's monologue a) end up in fucking the psycho anime freak, or b) end up in a ditch dead #yourimagination * click *

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Thank you for reading! Request rules are here. Follow my ig = lil.thoughts.xo!

Part One, Part Three

I am not a fan of Jeffery from 09'. That being said, I was shocked by the amount of people who liked part one! I hope this is good for y'all.

@opalineishere here's part twooo~

@sakurashana I tagged your ass because you had something to say the other day 😂

[teeskzagain]

okay, so, I had an idea a while back for this bully!wooyoung drabble, but I haven't touched it in a minute.

I just wanna know if this is something I should continue so down below you'll find a snippet of it, let me know if it's worth pursuing!

OUT NOW HERE!

pov: bully!perv wooyoung couldn’t resist an opportunity to mess with you

warnings: brief mentions of bullying (nothing severe), mentions of sexual frustrations, elements of cnc, but again, nothing extreme

wc: ~500 words

no explicit smut in this HOWEVER final upload WILL include the following 18+ content: fingering, forced mutual masturbation, unwanted ejaculation on reader....amongst other things

imagine bully!perv wooyoung, who’s been sexually frustrated for the past few days, grumbling to himself as he hops up on the public bus right after a dance lesson.

not only is he ticked off at how shitty his sex life’s been going (he was supposed to meet up with a girl tonight, yet she flaked) but now he has to endure a 40 minute long drive back to his home city with a now dead phone. how annoying.

scuffling down the aisle, he’s mumbling lowly to himself at these facts whilst darting his lower lip out in a pouty way. he's about ready to take his seat when he spots something that makes his whole body go rigid.

you. near the back. staring idly out of the window. hands clasped together, watching the nightly glow from outside. wooyoung cocks his head to the side. what are you doing here? had you always taken this route and he’s never noticed before? but that couldn’t be the case, surely he would’ve recognized you at some point during his few weeks of riding the bus here and had back.

wooyoung mulls this over.

well, knowing you, you’d probably ride all the way back on the dirty bus floor if it meant evading him completely.

he really wouldn’t put it past you to do such a thing. the dynamic between you two have always been skewed since the start of university. it’s almost laughable the extreme measures you’ve gone through to make sure to never associate with him.

and just like that, his lips form into a crude smile. he knows that you dislike him to no end. he knows you always try to avoid him at all costs. and, yeah, maybe he’s a little crass acting when he’s around you, but you make your hatred towards him so obvious it’s sort of hard not to take advantage of that. hence, the constant taunting courtesy of him.

and yet, he also knows that the work uniform you’re currently wearing is doing wonders for him right now. a pretty pink pastel dress that stops mid-thigh, with a crisp white collar around your neck. how it curves at your chest so nicely.

the way it cinches your waist, practically sculpting your body in perfect portions that he’s honestly never seen you in such a way before. makes him practically want to start salivating.

imagine bully!perv wooyoung, who’s been just so damn horny that he’s willing to do anything for a release. a chance to relieve some of the pent up stress he’s been feeling for the majority of tonight, at the very least.

which is why moments later, you find the vacant spot right next to you being now occupied with a body. a body, that at the recognition of his face, makes you visibly shudder in disgust.

he wastes no time in sparking conversation, though it comes off as one-sided with your lack of participation. wooyoung wouldn’t expect anything less from you. he deems your cold act towards him something that intrigues him. a challenge almost. and he wants to see you break.

......and that is all, please let me know if should continue this.

[maraschinomerry]

Rock Paper Scissors

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader, background Locklyle

Summary: George is your best friend, Lucy's convinced there's more to it but he's not your type... is he?

Content: friends to lovers, oblivious flirting, misunderstanding, light swearing and suggestive thoughts, kisses

A/N: it's officially 1 year since I posted my first Lockwood & Co fic!! Thank you all for making it such an incredible year and continuing to support my writing, it means the world to me ❤️ and thank you to the Multiverse of George for fuelling the buff!George fire 🔥 I've even made a montage so everyone can see the vision, plus the gif above of George swinging the chains he's definitely strong 💪

Word count: 4.2k

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea @mischiefmanaged71 (let me know if you want adding or removing!)

Ever since you'd started working for Lockwood & Co, you and George had had the most playful rivalry.

It had started on the very first day, when you came for your interview. Lucy had welcomed you into the living room while George went to fetch the biscuits. After breezing through the tests, Lockwood gestured to the plate still being clutched by the other boy.

“Biscuit?”

You frowned at the boy in the armchair, who looked like the last thing he wanted to do was to share. “Am I supposed to fight you for them or something?”

George had the audacity to snort. “In your dreams.” But then he did offer you the plate, albeit reluctantly.

Once you got used to one another, you found that you actually got on really well and gradually he became your best friend, but by then you'd set a precedent that neither of you wanted to drop.

“We're heading out soon,” Lucy informed you both as she slid cups of tea across the table. She and Lockwood had an appointment with a client, leaving you and George behind to keep working. “Can one of you oil the chains ready for tonight?”

You turned to George; he was already looking at you. A gleam came to his eye.

“Rock paper scissors?”

“You bet,” you grinned, already raising your hand. It took a few attempts, as you'd done it so many times by now that the two of you knew what each other was planning before it happened, but eventually you lost. Sticking your tongue out, you picked up your cup and headed towards the basement. Lucy followed you down.

“Can I ask you something?” she began cautiously.

“Course you can.” It wasn't like Lucy to not just ask straight out. This was odd.

“What's going on with you and George?” This was definitely odd. “It feels like you've gone past teasing, you're almost flirting with each other.”

Your gaze flew to your friend, who had lingered on the stairs. Was she being serious? “It's not like that, Luce,” you replied, wondering if it was warm in the basement or if it was just you. “I love him to bits, but the same way I love all of you. He's just not my type.”

Her eyebrow quirked up at that. “You have a type?”

“Don't say that like you don't,” you hit back. “You and Lockwood are made for each other! And George is great, really, but I prefer guys a bit more… buff?”

Lucy nodded. “Interesting.” It was spoken with the air of someone who knew exactly why it was interesting and someone who was absolutely not going to explain why. “Well… just don't rule anything out, but please be careful. I love you both too and I'd hate to see either of you get hurt.”

It was touching to hear her so candid about her feelings for you both. “I won't, I promise.”

—

You always forgot how ridiculously heavy the chains were. Just trying to hoist them up to make sure you'd oiled all the way round each joint was a workout. It was only adrenaline that carried you through working with them on cases. Thank goodness you were almost finished - your arms were beginning to ache and you were sure you were coated in sweat.

“Need a hand?” George's voice drifted from the stairs. You hadn't heard him come down, probably drowned out by the clanking links and your strained grunts, but there he was, sitting on one of the lower steps and watching you in amusement.

“You mean you want me to dishonour the sacred pact of rock paper scissors?” You mimed fainting in shock, taking the opportunity to slump back on the pile of chains and let the tension dissipate from your shoulders.

He chuckled, climbing down the final few steps and holding out his hand. “Will the sacred pact allow a lunch break? I made soup.” He'd got you there and he knew it. You loved his soup. Grinning, you accepted his hand and he pulled you away from the cold, hard metal.

There were two steaming bowls already set out on the table when you got back to the kitchen, and beside yours was a plate of sandwiches, cut exactly how you liked them.

“You're the best.”

“I know,” George smirked. He was eating with one hand, the other scribbling away on the Thinking Cloth. As he became more engrossed, he leant further forwards, his dark curls flopping over his brow. It was fascinating watching him get so engrossed in his work, the whole world melting away around him. Once you finished eating, you glanced across and took his empty bowl from in front of him. He looked up sharply, snapped from wherever his thoughts had taken him.

“Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you,” you mumbled.

“No, it's fine. We should probably get packed.”

You followed him down to the basement and pulled your kit bags from the shelf. Set side by side on the table, you both began to load up.

“You can carry the chains,” you told him over your shoulder as you picked up a half-empty box of flares and emptied it into your bag.

“Hey, you're the one who lost!”

“Only for cleaning them, I've done my bit.”

He huffed, but gave you a smile as he made his way over to the mound of chains. Your eyes widened as he scooped up a whole length in one easy movement and gave them a quick shake loose. You'd spent nearly quarter of an hour trying to manoeuvre that section earlier.

“How the hell did you do that?”

“They're not that heavy,” he shrugged, then added with a cheeky raised eyebrow, “or at least only when you’re trying to clean them.”

You threw the empty cardboard box at his head with a laugh.

—

A week later, the four of you were nestled in the living room. Outside, rain battered against the windows, which were almost being shaken out of their frames by the driving wind. You'd never have guessed it was June; it felt more like January. The fire was lit in the hearth, the occasional crackle of wood splitting the only other sound.

Eventually, Lockwood broke the silence. “I hate to say it, but someone's going to have to go out. We've got no tea left and barely enough food to last until tonight. We can draw straws to make it fair.”

He needn't have bothered. You and George already had your fists raised. One, two, three, paper. One, two, three, rock. Scissors. Paper. Scissors. Rock. Round and round you went, the symmetry only fuelling your competitive natures.

“This is ridiculous,” Lucy muttered. She was right, of course.

You raised your fist higher, leaning forward in an offered challenge. “Right. Arm wrestle. Loser goes.”

George leaned in, resting his elbow on the table. Lockwood and Lucy exchanged wide-eyed glances.

“Y/n…” Lucy began, but you weren't listening. Your elbow was already mirroring George's, hand in his. You weren't sure why you'd expected the easy, flexible grip of holding a rapier, but his fingers were clenched firmly around the back of your hand. Lockwood moved closer and counted you down.

Your hand hit the table almost immediately.

It felt like all the air had left the room. You stared in shock at the boy opposite, the triumphant toothy grin that crinkled his eyes, the unexpected tightness of his shirt sleeve around his arm. The similar tightness in your chest. Interesting.

Some sort of realisation hit you, and your attention shifted to Lucy. The look she was giving you was almost as satisfied as George's. Warmth flooded your cheeks. You drew in a shaky breath as you struggled to drag your eyes away from George's arm, which was still pinning yours to the table. After a moment, you felt his fingers loosen and with some reluctance pulled your hand away. The silence in the room was palpable. Lucy was still watching you in amusement. Lockwood was watching Lucy, trying to figure out why she had that “I know something you don't” look again over a simple arm wrestle. George was watching you too, his expression slowly shifting from victory to concern.

“Y/n? You okay?” he asked quietly. Your thoughts rushed back into your body, snapping your attention into the real world.

“All good,” you mumbled. “Just preparing to get drenched. If I'm not back in 20 minutes, assume I've been blown to the other end of the country.” At least that got a laugh out of Lockwood. Hurriedly, you stood and made your way to the front door. Why had you agreed to this? It was your own fault, of course, for continuing this whole competitive thing with George, but how were you to know he was that strong? A flash of bicep clouded your vision again, and you reached for the door handle before you did something regrettable.

“Hold on,” a voice came behind you. It was him. Keep it together, you told yourself.

“If you're about to volunteer to take my place, go ahead,” you forced yourself to stay casual.

George moved closer, and you swallowed a lump in your throat. “I was actually going to question why you looked like you were about to leave without a coat.” He reached to the rack over your shoulder, lifting yours from its hook.

“That might help.” You knew you were blushing again, but prayed he thought it was just from embarrassment at being so forgetful. Definitely not how close he was, how he was holding your coat in the same hand that had been holding yours moments ago.

—

By the time you made it back to the house, you were soaked to the bone and almost shivering. It seemed like the storm wasn't going to let up until at least the next day, so you'd decided to stock up on plenty of food which had seemed like a great idea until you tried to carry it all home. You'd had to stop several times on the way, ducking into doorways and bus shelters to escape the weather as you swapped hands, flexed your shoulders or relieved your fingers from where the handles of the bags had started to make dents. When you finally made it, you held the door open with one foot as you negotiated the bags in and dropped them unceremoniously on the hall floor. George emerged from the living room, alone this time; Lockwood and Lucy must have gone upstairs or down to the basement.

“You look awful.”

“Aww thanks, you're not so bad yourself,” you joked dryly. Oh god, Lucy was right, you were almost flirting. A shiver ran through you and this time you hoped it was from the cold.

For a second, you thought you saw George's eyelids flutter. “Well, I uh… I ran you a bath to warm you back up. I'll put this away.” He hauled up the bags of shopping with barely a huff, and you tried to reason that he hadn't just carried them through a storm.

The water was soothingly warm and scented with lavender salts, the smell wafting up in delicate bursts as it swirled around, relaxing all the tension in your aching muscles. As you lay peacefully, you reflected on what had happened earlier. You weren't sure you'd ever felt… You couldn't even identify what feelings you'd experienced during the arm wrestle. Shock? Embarrassment? No. It was something else, something that Lucy had noticed immediately and had been trying to get through to your oblivious self. But she was wrong, wasn't she? You said it yourself, you weren't into George, even if he did now fulfil your main criteria. Then again, so did plenty of other guys you'd met. Kipps was quite well built, definitely had muscles, but that didn't mean you'd considered dating him. He wasn't like George though - smart, funny, thoughtful George. You couldn't imagine Kipps running you a bath or making your favourite lunch, or doing any number of the things that with George felt so natural. And there were all the little things you did for him that you'd never do for anyone else. No, there were no two ways about it: you were a pair in whatever capacity that meant.

Still didn't mean you fancied him, you told yourself.

You volunteered to help George with the dishes after dinner that night. It was always nice to be able to spend time just the two of you in sync, but tonight especially you figured it was a good idea to be around him in perfectly normal circumstances. You'd chat or enjoy the companionable quiet, you'd both be at ease; nothing could possibly happen, which would give you time to prove your feelings were a fluke.

George picked up his blue rubber gloves and tossed you a tea towel. He was dressed casually, in sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt (so large that the sleeves almost met his gloves at the elbow). The radio was playing quietly in the background, giving you a welcome distraction. Whenever a song you recognised came on, you'd start humming along or singing under your breath, and George would smile at you, sometimes even joining in. Your heart leapt a bit when he did, but that was nothing, you were just happy to be sharing this moment with your friend. He stuck an arm deeper into the sink to grab something at the bottom and made a small noise. Water had splashed up onto the cuff of his sleeve. You giggled at the look of disgust he made at the wet fabric sticking to his skin. The sound died in your throat when he took off his gloves, draped them on the side of the sink and rolled his sleeves up out of the way. You were so used to him being hidden behind his giant tops, or at the very least being in longer sleeved shirts, that seeing his bicep completely exposed was a shock in more ways than one. It wasn't much wonder he'd beaten you so easily at arm wrestling with muscles like that. You wondered whether it was just his arms that were so toned, or was the rest of him the same? Was he hiding a set of abs under that T-shirt too? Were his thighs-

“You okay?” George nudged you, and you hastily looked away.

“I was just…” Come on, come on, find an excuse, your brain urged. “...thinking how this means we both got wet clothes today, if you want me to put that top in with my washing after this?” God that was lame. Not much wonder he wasn't interested in you. That wasn't the point, you reminded yourself.

“Oh,” he smiled. “That'd be great, thanks.” He leant over to put a chopping board on the draining rack, and his bicep brushed against yours. A shockwave of warmth resonated through your whole body. Oh.

“Tell you what,” you forced yourself not to stammer, “are you okay to finish up here and I'll go and grab the laundry basket?” He nodded, and you tried not to fall over your own feet as you retreated to the hallway and sucked in a breath to calm your racing heart. Oh.

—

You cursed yourself for ever starting this. No, this was Lucy's fault for pointing it out. No, still your fault.

Being around George was becoming unbearable. Not for anything he'd done, rather the things he wasn't doing. He was carrying on exactly as he always had, that inimitable blend of playful and caring, and it was driving you mad not knowing whether he meant any of it in the way you wanted him to. You couldn't say anything, of course. If you were wrong, it would mess up the whole dynamic of the group. That would hurt almost as much as any rejection. But the more things went on, the more you took notice of the little moments between you, the more your feelings grew until it felt like they would crawl out of your chest.

“What the hell were you thinking?” George snapped at Lockwood. He and Lucy had been out on a case which went badly, and now the four of you were sitting at the dining table in the early hours, George applying butterfly stitches to a cut on Lockwood's arm and you cleaning a couple of scratches on Lucy's face. The misty gloom of the night outside the window reflected the atmosphere within.

“I was thinking,” Lockwood snapped back, “that we only had to handle a couple of Type Ones, according to your notes.”

“I told you those weren't finished!”

“Well maybe next time, don't get distracted.” Was it your imagination, or had his gaze flickered to you?

“Maybe next time,” George replied darkly, “do your own research.”

“Fine.” Lockwood pushed his chair back and stalked from the room. Lucy shot you both an apologetic grimace and followed.

George began pacing round the kitchen, hands twitching angrily. You stayed at the table, knowing it was best to give him the space to say or do whatever he needed to let his feelings out. You were there if he needed you.

“Can you believe him?” It was rhetorical, you'd heard him say it enough to know, so you waited for him to continue. “We end up in this situation almost every week, because he's too reckless to wait! I know he'd rather be in the action, but he'd be able to do all that more if he'd let me give him the right information first.”

You gently waded in, trying to be reassuring. “We all know how useful your research is; he just gets overeager, especially when Lucy's involved.”

“I know you know how important it is,” his words sent butterflies through you, “but Lockwood just…” He gave a frustrated huff. “Maybe I should make him do all the legwork for a change.” You tried very hard not to think about whether George's legs were as muscular as his arms.

“I'll support whatever you decide, but for what it's worth I think you should just talk to him.”

He sighed heavily, placing his hands flat on the table and allowing his head to drop. “You're right. Thanks, y/n.” The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, as did his deep brown eyes as he raised his head to look at you. You were already distracted by the tension which lingered in his shoulders, the rigidity of his arms as they supported his weight, the way he had leaned into the pose so much that now when he looked up his face was so close it almost filled your vision. You swallowed nervously.

“Any time. I- I have to go.” You stumbled up from your chair, ignoring George's confused stare and sounds of protest as you practically bolted from the room.

—

You lay on your bed in the attic, tears slowly soaking into the pillow you'd buried your face in. This was the end; it had to be. You couldn't carry on working for the agency like this. If George had shown any interest it would be okay - Lockwood and Lucy managed to balance being a couple who worked and lived together, there was no reason you two couldn't do the same, but it could never work being so one-sided. You'd just keep being weird, struggling to hold your nerve around the boy until it would start bleeding into cases and Lockwood would have no choice but to fire you for everyone's safety, if you hadn't already got one of you hurt by then. Not to mention the emotional hurt. It would happen either way, but at least if you walked away now you could control it.

“Y/n?” Lucy's voice came tentatively from the bottom of the steps. “George said you ran off, is everything okay?”

You flipped onto your back, drawing in shuddering breaths to recover from almost suffocating in the pillow. “You were right, Luce.” There was movement on the steps, but you kept your eyes on the ceiling. You couldn't bear to look at anyone right now. “I tried so hard to make sure neither of us got hurt, but George doesn't love me back and now I feel like even if I stay I'm going to lose him.”

The silence that followed dragged on longer than you could bear. Why wasn't she saying anything? You forced yourself to sit up.

George stood at the entrance to your room, eyes wide and lips parted.

You scrambled to your feet. “Shit! I mean, hi, um… how long have you been there?”

George continued to stare.

“I'm so sorry,” the words were rushing out of you now, “I just panicked but I don't want to make things weird so can we just pretend-”

“What do you mean, ‘doesn't love me back'?” he interrupted quietly.

You froze. There was no mistaking it: he'd heard you basically say you loved him and now there he was looking like the mere concept was so unbelievable, like the option hadn't even crossed his mind. Why would it? Time stretched on as you fought the urge to run again, as far as the ever-widening space between you would allow. Neither of you had moved, but you could feel the room expanding around you to make room for the bottomless pit you wanted to crawl into. “I…” you drew in a slow, deep breath, “I was fine just being friends but Lucy got in my head about you being exactly my type and now I think I'm actually flirting while you're still just pretending and I'm sorry…” Tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes and you hurriedly looked away, hoping he wouldn't see.

George stepped closer, and you shrunk even further into yourself. Your heart skipped a beat when he gently tilted your chin up to meet his surprisingly soft gaze. “I meant, why do you think I don't love you back?”

You faltered. Was he saying what you thought he was? “Well, I mean, I thought I'd made things super obvious and awkward but you didn't change so I thought you weren't interested.”

George's hand was still on your chin and his thumb rubbed soothingly across your cheek, wiping away the single tear that had spilled. “I thought you weren't interested! You normally go for those muscly gym guys so I figured I'd take whatever I could get with the arm wrestles and stuff, but then you started avoiding me so I thought you were done with it.”

A small laugh escaped you, and he looked at you in confusion. “Have you seen yourself?” Hesitantly, you raised a hand to his bicep, marvelling at finally being able to feel the muscle instead of just staring at it, and more amazed at the way the boy responded to your touch, drifting closer until you were barely inches apart.

“So then why did you run?” His voice was whisper soft against your face, eyes gazing down at you with an overwhelming blend of sincerity, bewilderment and something like longing. His cheeks were tinted as pink as you knew yours were.

“Got flustered.”

“Flustered? You? I don't believe you.” A smile tugged at the edge of his lips, the playfulness you were used to creeping back into his voice. It was such a relief to feel the tension dissipating from the room, to have your George back, that you buried your head in his shoulder with a giggle. He laughed too, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Oh, I see, you really want to do this? Okay, let's see ‘flustered y/n’ at their best.”

You yelped in surprise as his other arm hooked under your legs and swept you off your feet, your arms flying up round his neck for support. His arm was tense across your back but he looked the most relaxed he'd been since he walked in, and he shifted you closer to press a quick kiss to your lips before setting you down on the bed and sitting beside you.

“Lucy's going to be very smug about this, you know,” he nudged you.

“I know,” you whined, burying your face in your hands. “Rock paper scissors for who has to tell her.” George laughed again and placed his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer as you leant into the embrace.

“Is this just a ploy to get more hugs?”

“Is it working?”

In response, he brought his other arm around your waist and kissed your forehead. You smiled, leaning up to kiss him properly, and he reciprocated eagerly.

—

Lucy had left George alone on the steps to your room once you started your confession, giving you both a bit of privacy, and decided when he didn't come back downstairs immediately that things had either gone very badly or very well. She believed, and hoped, that it was the latter. Her suspicions were confirmed when she came to tell you she'd made breakfast and found you fast asleep, wrapped in George's arms.

[reivrze]

OH, SAY IT DITTO ♡

pairing. popular!jungwon x shy!reader

genre. highschool!au, fluff, reader has a huge crush on jungwon

word count. 0.8k

warning. none

a/n. this was inspired by the song "ditto" by new jeans :) the ending was kinda rushed lmao sorry, hope you guys enjoy ! reposts are immensely appreciated as they help my works get recommended, reblogs help the algorithms so thank you for all those who take time to repost my work ♡

exam season had come around at a rapid pace, and your free days now consisted of little solo dates at the library going over the notes you had taken in class. this morning was like every wednesday morning except your first two classes had been cancelled, and you had decided to take a little trip down to the library to occupy your free time.

as you entered the library, you greeted the woman sitting at the front desk, having been here so many times in the past few weeks that you had gotten to know several of the staff. getting closer to your usual table, you stopped suddenly seeing an unfamiliar presence sitting in your chair. trying to get a closer look, you sneaked behind the bookshelves, peeking out to see who was the mysterious person. your face flushed a bright red the minute you realized that the person was no one other than yang jungwon. the boy you had been admiring for the past ten years.

you had first met jungwon went you were eight in elementary. he had been the new kid, causing quite a stir amongst the students, his extroverted and hypersocial personality gaining him new friends almost every day. his arrival had awoken something new, he had given you your first experience of having a crush and boy did you not expect this crush to stick for as long as it had. how could you not fall in love with someone with such a boy-ish vibe and adorable smile ?

now here you are, staring at him through the bookshelves, debating on if you should just leave and come back later or try to find another seat. if you had the confidence, you would've gone sit at the same table as him, but unfortunately for you, that wasn't the case. letting your mind get stuck in this trance as you watched him read one of his textbooks, you hadn't noticed him lift his head up, his eyes catching yours amongst the books.

blinking out of your little daydream, your breath caught in your throat as you realized you were directly making eye contact with jungwon, his eyes curious as to why you were looking at him from afar. you felt a jolt of surprise course through your body, momentarily freezing you in place. caught in the act of observing him from behind the bookshelves, you could feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment. however, instead of turning away or pretending nothing happened, jungwon's expression softened into a warm smile.

breaking the spell of shyness that held you captive, jungwon motioned for you to come closer. with a mix of hesitation and excitement, you cautiously emerged from your hiding spot, making your way towards the table where he sat. as you approached, he slid his books to the side, clearing a space for you to join him.

"Hey, I noticed you peeking at me from over there," jungwon said playfully, his voice laced with genuine curiosity. "Want to sit with me? We can study together."

"Oh.. Sure" you offered him a little smile that he was quick to reciprocate. jungwon had felt comfortable enough during the time that you guys had spent together, going over the last chapter the teacher had gone over. the conversation seemed to flow with ease, you'd steal glances once in a while, not quite believing that you were actually sitting face-to-face with the boy you had dreamt about all those years.

as time passed, you found yourself really setting in the comfort of his presence, some part of you wondering if this comfort was simply rooted in jungwon's social personality or was it really that you two had easily connected. the time to go was nearing and both of you had started to pack up your belongings, your heart sank a little at the knowledge that this might be a one-time thing. just as you were getting to say goodbye and make your way to class, jungwon grabbed your wrist, turning you back around.

"Hold up- This might sound random considering this was our first interaction but I understood my lesson so much better with this one-hour study session than what I've learnt all semester and if you want, we can meet here tomorrow again after classes. you're fun to talk to and quite cute" he chuckled the last part, trying to ease any discomfort you might be feeling.

your mind went blank. you had never, in a million years, expected him to ask to meet you again. slightly overjoyed, you eagerly blurted out a yes. jungwon laughing at your surprised face at your own self. and just like that, you guys had planned your first little date, unknown to both of you that years down the line you'd still be a prominent part of each other's life.

© miyu 2023 - do not copy, translate, repost or plagiarise my work anywhere !

[bloggingboutburgers]

this past week my qpp of almost two years broke up with me. and i know for you, you said you wouldn't necessarily feel heartbroken if your qpr came to an end, but for me, it felt more heartbreaking than some of my past romantic breakups. this whole thing made me wonder if maybe im not queerplatonic or aro enough to be in a qpr, or if id ever want to be in a qpr again. but seeing you post about your qpr gives me hope that queerplatonic love is something that i can experience fully. so thank you for always sharing your story, because that's what's helping me heal right now <3

Aah, to be perfectly honest, as much as I sorta "downplay" it compared to what it must feel for people who experience romantic attraction... I've had a time where I almost felt like I couldn't go on with my QPP as well and the sheer thought of it was really hard to bear too, so my words here aren't necessarily being very fair to the reality of things.

It was during the travel ban of March 2020 to November 2021 where citizens of my country and others weren't allowed to enter the US unless we spent 15 days in a country that wasn't banned. It made it much harder than usual to visit my partner and as it was nearing 2 years with nobody aware it was going on anymore and US people more concerned about whether they'd be able to have turkey for Thanksgiving, my hope was running really thin. So for a few days in mid-October, as I was at rock bottom, I was starting to write in passing to my partner about how maybe going on wasn't worth it because the separation was too hard on us, it wasn't showing signs of stopping, and the whole thing maybe wasn't worth the pain if they could live their life happily and not have to worry about me who couldn't visit.

And then we videocalled at some point, and when they tearfully told me that even if it did end then and there, they wanted me to keep the promise ring they'd recently given me, I suddenly felt a quiet rage in me going like "No. Fuck this. Look at them. I love them. And I love this too much to allow some cruel governmental decision to end it. If it ever ends, it'll be because WE want it to end. Not because of shit like this."

...I'm making it sound super dramatic but yeah long story short this is also a big reason why we're planning to get married. So that when the US government decides to put a ban on countries including mine again, they can't stop us from vibing together this time.

I guess... I still don't wanna 100% assume we'll be together forever because I don't wanna trap them in a situation they may no longer feel happy in. We're doing great now, but I still have it in the back of my mind that maybe someday they'll get sick of me (they say they never will and that'd be dope if they never did, but never say never and all), or we'll both just want other things, and if it ends like that, then... Yeah, that'd be alright. Much more alright than the way it almost ended.

(...Oh, and for the record, if a friendship of mine ended abruptly, or if my brothers stopped being on good terms with me, I'm pretty sure I'd be just as heartbroken, to be fair. And it'd feel like my reality was collapsing a little. I guess anything ending, any human connection ending, has that effect to a degree, if it's important enough, after all.)

Though describing things like that does make it a bit harder to define what makes it "queerplatonic" as opposed to "romantic", I still... Just have that feeling in my gut that it isn't romance, y'know? It's kinda... A mix between being close friends and being an old married couple without ever having gone through the grandiose passion-honeymoon phase. Maybe that phase IS what defines romance per se. I don't know. Maybe someday I'll find more answers, but it's kinda hard to find answers when you have no idea how romance works to begin with I guess 🙈

In any case... Sorry if I caused any confusion or if I made you question your validity. The thing is pretty simple to be honest: if you feel you're aro, you're veeeeeery likely to BE aro. Because nobody can make that call but you and nobody can name the relationships you have but you. And if amongst everything you even FOUND the words "aro" or "queerplatonic" in a world where those identities and types of relationships are so aggressively hidden or erased, then it's gotta stand for something.

...I guess at the very least THIS I can be certain of TwT Sorry I'm a bit messy about all of this myself, I'm still also going on about it trying to figure it out day by day, but I owed it to you and everyone to be honest. These things are hard to define and I hope to keep finding better and better words to do so someday. TwT