#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💕

[softtdaisy]

your favorite brother / Aaron Hotchner

summary. you thought you would never deal with Hotchner brothers again. And here came Aaron. Arresting you. And making up for the arrest.

words count. 3,055

what to expect. mention of murder, mention of abuse, mention of Sean (guess it's important to say it) not a real smut because i'm still uncomfortable writing it but it's implied

a/n. this might be one of my favorite fic since i started writing again, i really took the time to do something sensual. and i'm trying to something new with the gif so??? i hope you will love it 🤍

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You’ve seen Aaron Hotchner more these past two days than the whole time you were dating Sean, his brother. 

It’s not like you didn’t try to back then. You always found it sad that both brothers weren’t in touch and didn’t seem close at all. Sean didn’t seem very fond of his brother, criticizing him a lot for many things that you didn’t even understand most of the time. You often thought that he was looking for excuses to blame Aaron for many things in his life that were not his fault. But it wasn’t your place to defend a man you never met. 

You only met Aaron once, in your ten months relationship with his brother.

You guessed he tried to do some effort by inviting him to Jack’s birthday that year. You almost didn’t come. It was the beginning of your relationship with Sean and you weren’t sure it was right to be there after months (years?) of the Hotchner’s brothers not seeing each other.

But Sean insisted. Saying he didn’t want to go alone in case they argue. So you were there. 

You remembered the first time you saw Aaron Hotchner.

He looked nothing like your boyfriend. Neither physically or mentally. Maybe that’s why it was harder to contain the immediate attraction you had for him.

Aaron had this dark masculine figure, so serious and imposing, yet with a little light coming from the happy look on his face that it was impossible to miss him. It was his son's birthday and Aaron was the center of attention.

You guessed the FBI outfit was different from the one he was wearing that day: a dark blue shirt that was revealing his biceps and veins and a dark jean that looked so good on his long legs. His hair was not styled, almost like he woke up a few minutes before you arrived.

And when he turned around to greet you, the smile that he gave you was easily one of the most beautiful ones you’ve ever seen. Sincere, genuine and glowing.

He was far from the gloomy figure that Sean described to you. You even wondered if he didn’t overstate that description to prevent you from falling for his brother. 

Funny coming from a confident man that never seems to fear losing his women.

As much as you tried to fight it, you ended up daydreaming about Aaron more than once that day. 

The way he bent over the table, talking to his coworkers, got you lost in your mind about being in this position too. With him.

The way he put a hand on your shoulder to thank you for being here got you thinking about the heat of his skin and how good it would feel elsewhere on your body.

Your brain even memorized his features so well that Aaron was even part of your dirty dream that night. You claimed it was the other Hotchner brother but you could never forget the feeling of the dark haired hands on your body. 

But the two brothers ended up fighting only a few days after Jack’s party and you put aside everything you remembered about Aaron right after. Not only because of the fight but because of the way Sean ended up treating you.

You never wanted to hear about the Hotchner brothers ever again.

And you could have easily gone with that state of mind for the rest of your life. If your coworker wasn’t killed in the elevator. 

Real problem.

You weren’t sure why the FBI got called on the case. Sure it was terrible and premeditated, you don’t kill someone on an elevator out of nowhere, not even after a bad day. And that man had a few complains against him for sexual harassment. It didn’t take two detectives to get the motive.

So when your boss told you that the FBI would work on the case, you didn’t really get it but accepted it.

But when you saw Aaron Hotchner coming through the door, you thought that maybe fate was behind it.

If the attraction was born on Jack’s birthday with his casual look, it came back bigger when you saw him. The charcoal grey suit, the burgundy tie, the dark hair perfectly styled, the silver watch shining on his wrist and the serious look on his face, everything made you lose it that day.

You weren’t the only one surprised by the unplanned and supposed-to-never-happen-again reunion. 

“Didn’t know you were working here.” Aaron said after he finished talking to your boss. He walked straight to your desk, his knees barely touching it. Like he was trying his best to not enter your life again.

“It’s not like you knew a lot about me.” you replied, folding your arms against your chest. You noticed his eyes looking down on you before going back to your face. This was almost a criticism. But could you really blame him for not staying in touch with his brother’s ex-girlfriend?

Aaron sighed, looking away to make sure nobody was listening. “Listen, I know you complained about the victim. We need to hear you.”

You tried not to look disappointed that it took him less than a minute to change the conversation and focus on the case. There was so much more you wanted to say. 

But you also noticed that it took him that same amount of time to change his mind about his place in your life and put a hand on your desk.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked, frowning. “He was convinced every person that walked through this door wanted to have sex with him. To the point he didn’t mind cornering people to get what he wanted.”

You noticed how the hand Aaron had put on your desk turned into a fist. “I slapped him, once.” you added. “It was during last year Christmas’ party. Apparently, my red dress attracted him like a bull to the point he followed me to the toilet to finally have his rest. He said it was my fault.” you took a break, breathing. “He’s the one who’s dead now.”

Maybe you dreamt it but you’re sure you saw a smile on Aaron’s face. Short and very small. But a proof he heard you. Anything else, Aaron?”

“I’ll tell you.” you loved how his eyebrows went up and down, just like his eyes on you. He took one second from his time to look at you before walking back to his team. 

You spent the whole day searching for him in corners and other rooms. Your colleagues always laughed about you being closed to the coffee machine as a way to satisfy your caffeine addiction. Which wasn’t completely false. But you were more than glad when the man haunting your thoughts came to take one more than once. It was good a distraction from work and the mess happening that day.

Next thing you knew, it was 8 p.m., your day was over and Aaron Hotchner was waiting for you. But not casually. 

He was waiting to bring you to the police station. 

“That’s a joke, right?” you asked, chuckling at the idea. It was kind of funny to be arrested by your ex brother-in-law. But there was no sight of fun on his face. 

And when he walked behind you to escort you, Aaron leaned closer to your ear. “Don’t make things more difficult.” he whispered. You closed your eyes for a second, imagining other moments where this man could whisper things in your ear. But only for a second. Because Aaron was walking quickly behind you, hurrying you up outside.

He was the one helping you get in the car. You appreciated the irony of him opening the door like a gentleman. Aaron noticed the look in your eyes, the anger of being arrested for something you clearly didn’t do. And the betrayal of him being the one arresting you. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled so softly you almost didn’t hear it.

But you did. And it was the melody that stayed in your head the whole ride.

The questioning was pure torture.

Aaron asked to not do it, a conflict of interests that the team quickly learned about when they did some research on you. So you met agent Prentiss and Morgan. Well, meet again technically because you remembered seeing them at Jack’s birthday. But there was no time for chatting.

Maybe it was because of your connection with their boss or they saw the sincerity in your words, but none of them seemed to believe in your guilt.

But you still had to stay there because you were one of their unsub. Telling the same story over and over.

“You said you wanted him dead.” Prentiss said, showing you a screenshot from a conversation with your colleagues. 

You couldn’t contain your laugh. “That son of a bitch tried to abuse me. He tried to abuse almost every woman that walked in our office. He was waiting for them like a goddamn hunter. And I should ask for his happiness? He’s better where is now.” you looked at her in the eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I killed him.”

This continued like that for hours. Of them leaving the room and leaving you alone. Even if you could still feel Aaron’s look on you through the glass -at least you liked to think he was there. And both of them coming back to ask you more questions about work and the victim. 

It was midnight when you finally were allowed to come home. This time, you didn’t look for Aaron at the station. But you found him in your dreams. Whether you wanted it or not. 

That was how you ended spending the day at your apartment instead of work. You took your day off and learnt in the afternoon that the real responsible had been caught. 

And again, you thought this case being solved meant you were finally free from the Hotchner brothers.

When the sun started to come down, you heard three knocks on your door. The atrocity of what happened the day before didn’t stop you from opening your door to strangers.

Except it wasn’t a stranger.

It was the man hunting your dreams and fantasies. 

“What do you want Aaron?” you asked, moving away to let him come in.

You weren’t the only one to whom the first meeting between you two was engraved in your mind. Aaron perfectly remembered the day Sean brought you to Jack’s birthday.

His brother didn’t tell him he would bring someone. And when he heard the gossips when you arrived, before seeing you two, he regretted inviting Sean. Of course his brother would do something to annoy him.

Then he saw you.

You had lowered to be at Jack’s level and were laughing at a joke he apparently told you. You looked mesmerised, like his son was the most interesting person in the whole garden. And if you asked Aaron, he would say it’s true. But to see that look on someone that didn’t know either him or Jack was flattering. And appealing.

It wasn’t only the way you acted with Jack. It was you, entirely.   

He remembered the glow in your eyes when you first talked. He remembered how you always seemed to look for him. He remembered seeing you get lost in your thoughts, wondering if he was the cause.

He remembered the necklace you were wearing: a gold chain with an emerald. A gift from Sean. He remembered thinking how his hands would look so much better around your neck. 

Aaron felt bad for having such a sudden and massive desire for his brother’s girlfriend. And just like you, you were the only one in his mind when he went to sleep that night. Or during the showers that lasted longer than usual the following days.

Then life carried on. He somehow forgot about you or his attraction for you. And after his fight with Sean, he wasn’t even aware that you two broke up. Not until yesterday, when you revealed during the questioning that you were single.

“Apologize.” he finally replied. You turned around to look at him. Aaron leant against the wall, like a statue that belonged there. You guessed his day was over by the way his tie was a little less thigh around his neck than yesterday or how the first button of his shirt was undone. He looked tired. This case was draining. Not only by the murder itself but by you being part of it. 

You nervously chuckled at this. “Don’t worry Aaron, I’m used to the Hotchner brothers hurting me.” 

You haven’t thought about Sean since your breakup. You even erased the memory of him in your apartment. The way he would always sit at the same place, the mug he always used -one you got rid of- or how his perfume would always stay for a day or two after he left. These were gone from your mind and you were glad that your life didn’t change after he went away.

Aaron being here could have revived this.

But it didn’t.

Seeing him here made you want to create new memories. With him. 

It started with him taking long steps to catch your wrist. “I’m not Sean.” a fact he needed to hear more than you. Thank god he wasn’t his brother. Otherwise he would never have come. “What did he do to you?” 

Anger. Passion. Eager. You could see all that in his eyes. You could feel it in his hand, how he was gripping your wrist but softly touching your skin with his fingertips. You could hear it in his breathless sighs. 

“Does it matter?” you whispered, close to his lips.

You didn’t know which one of you was leading this dance that couldn’t be seen but you soon felt the wall against your back and Aaron’s body against your chest. “Maybe we should focus on what I can do to you now.” 

Next thing you knew, Aaron's lips were on yours. Angrily kissing the memory of his brother on your mouth away. Passionately biting your lips to taste more of you. Eagerly taking your shirt off to discover your body. All his thoughts went silent with you around. All he wanted was to get more and more of you.

His hands felt exactly like you thought they would on your body: hot and firm. He was grabbing your hips, pressing his body harder against yours. Soon your legs were around his waist. You felt the tense in his arms being tighter holding you like this. But not like it was hard. Like he was living every single second of that moment with appetite. 

When his lips slid on your neck and your hands got lost in his hair, you knew you never wanted this moment to end.

Later, you would find it funny how Aaron found the way to your room without even looking. He was too concentrated on kissing every piece of skin he was unveiling to think about that. Yet, he had no problem walking through the corridor and laying you on your bed. He followed his gut and his gut was driven by his need to be inside you.

When Aaron started untying his tie, you stopped him by putting a hand on it, meticulously placing it on his heart.  “Let me do that.”  you said, your lips so close to his ear that you almost kissed it.

You always had a thing for undressing men. Especially men in suits. 

You took your time with his tie, letting it slide all along his neck in a soft way. You slowly did every button of his shirt, kissing his chest centimeter by centimeter. You lost it for a few seconds looking at the strand of hair running through his chest. This would be a new addition to your dreams, you knew that.

His belt fell on the floor, his pants made the best noise sliding through his legs. And there you were, both naked, and you in front of the man with whom you had the most insane fantasy.

Aaron took a moment to look at you. You were close to it, with him on top of you. You got lost in the beauty of his eyes while he was admiring you. “What does it mean?” you asked him, softly bringing a hand to his cheek in a moment of tenderness that you didn’t expect to happen. 

You saw the conflict in his head. Being torn between knowing he shouldn’t be there with you -because of his job, because of his brother, because of who he was as a man. And putting everything aside for once in his life. “I don’t know.” he replied, still leaning closer to you. 

“And I don’t care.” he added, finally letting his body explore yours entirely.  

You got lost in Aaron’s arms that night. Every minute felt better than the past one. Every kiss felt nicer than the post one.

And every moment, you let yourself fall for him harder.

You couldn’t say you had feelings for him already, except for the obvious attraction you both had for each other. 

But looking at Aaron, asleep in your sheets at 4 a.m. after making love to you multiple times, you thought that maybe. Maybe. You could let yourself be in love with a Hotchner brother again. 

“I see you,” you heard him say in his hoarse sleepy voice. You were a little to blame for it after making moan harder than you thought he even would.

You laughed a little which caused a sweet little smile on his lips.“With your eyes closed?”

“I can see you everywhere.” he replied, opening his sweet eyes. “Even when you’re not there. And I know you did too.”

“Are you a magician, Aaron Hotchner?” you asked with a fake surprise. Slowly, his hands guided you on his lap again. A place you never wanted to leave.

He never answered your question. Not now nor ever. He simply kissed your lips in the softest way, his arms tightening around you so you could lie on his chest.

An offer to discover that yourself, if you were willing too. 

[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.

[keirareidss]

nightmares - s.r

♡ summary: you've been having nightmares and they've started affecting more than your work pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, arguing, mentions of throwing up, brief mention on kidnapping, torture, and murder (case details), a/n: I've been trying to write longer fics and switch up my formatting a little bit so let me know if you like it :) wc: 3.2k

Spencer was worried about you. Over the past few months, you'd become different. You were snippier with him, you had darker bags under your eyes, and you'd been more jumpy and anxious as of late. He'd noticed it when he slept over too. You went to bed later and later and he couldn't remember the last time you initiated something with him. You'd been distancing yourself and he didn't understand why. He missed you when you were right next to him. He yearned to have your touch again when he'd gone without it for so long.

You were on your fifth cup of coffee and it was only 10 AM. You let out a suffering sigh as you slumped back into your chair. Spencer glanced at you from his desk across from yours. You took a sip from your plain black coffee, leaning in to answer another email.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asked gently, turning his full focus to you when he noticed you rubbing your eye.

"I'm fine." You mumbled.

"Are you sure-"

"I'm just tired, Spencer. It's nothing."

"I, uh- I noticed you haven't been sleeping as much."

"It's none of your business." You snapped and Spencer closed his mouth, pursing his lips. You wouldn't even look at him. He was torn. He didn't understand what was happening. He'd done an ample amount of research on nightmares after your first few because he wanted to help. All he ever wanted was to help. After the first nightmare, the first thing you did was curl into him and cry. He comforted you with his arms around your body, kissing everywhere he could reach, whispered reassurances filling the space between you.

You stared at the screen of your computer, an email from Hotch pulled on that you needed to answer but you couldn't because of the sharp pain behind your eyes, pounding in your skull. You raised a hand to your temple, massaging it with your finger and your thumb. You couldn't do this. You can't work like this. When Spencer used to migraines often, you felt for him. You made him go home as often as you could, not wanting him to work in pain. Thankfully, they were few and far between these days and you were glad he wasn't in as much pain anymore. But now, with your own migraines coming on due to your loss of sleep, you wondered how he ever got work done. You flinch at the deep voice calling your name, pulling you from your thoughts and when you look up, Hotch is standing next to your desk.

"Have you finished the Orlando case file?"

"Uh, no I haven't gotten to it yet."

"It was over a month ago. I need it today." He says, before walking away. You said, sifting through your stack of files to find the one he was talking about. You rest your head in your hands as you stared down at it.

"I can help you if you need-"

"No, I've got it." You cut Spencer off. He turned back to his own file, deciding that if you weren't going to let him help, he would leave you be.

You were running again. The forest was deep and dark and all around you. You ran as fast as you could, not stopping, not looking behind you. You didn't know what was behind you but you could hear it. The sound thundered in your ears, something, a creature maybe, behind you, chasing you, gaining on you. You were gasping for air, your side ached, but you couldn't stop running. You didn't know where the forest ended, if it ever did. You heard it getting closer and closer behind you and your lungs hurt from how heavy your breathing had become. Just as you thought you saw light peeking through the trees, you tripped on a thick root on the forest floor. You hit the ground and a second later you were shooting up in your bed.

You gasped for air, clutching your chest. You felt the all too familiar feeling of bile rising in your throat and you scrambled out of the bed, fumbling to the bathroom and dropping to your knees in front of the toilet. Spencer was out of the bed soon after, rushing after you. He sighed as he held your hair back from your face. You had skipped dinner that night so it was just stomach acid coming up. Spencer's hand was heavy on your back, rubbing back and forth.

You followed this routine almost every night. You inevitably have a nightmare and Spencer attempts to comfort you but you brush him off, going out into the living room to find something to occupy your mind while your boyfriend reluctantly goes back to sleep.

You wiped your mouth, flushing to toilet and standing to rinse your mouth out. Spencer stands next to you at the sink. The question thrums at the back of his mind and even though he already knows the answer, he asks it anyway.

"What was it about?"

"I don't want to talk about it." You answered the same thing every time. You'd never told him about your dreams, worried he'll just end up philosophizing it, trying to find some meaning out of nothing. One of Spencer's best and worst qualities was his need to find an explanation for everything.

"Can you come back to bed?"

"No, I'm just going to go watch TV or something. Sorry for waking you." You muttered, pushing past him to go to the living room. He catches your arm, making you look at him.

"You don't have to be sorry, angel. I don't ever want you to be sorry for having a nightmare. Just... can we please talk?"

"About what?"

"I want to know what's going on with you."

"Nothing's going on. I'm fine." You crossed your arms over yourself.

"You've been having nightmares almost every night for months now."

"It's just the job. Being an FBI agent comes with its 'perks' right?" You said sarcastically, turning away from him and heading out of the bedroom.

"It's not just the job. You've been different ever since-"

"Oh please, Spencer. It's nothing. Just leave it alone." Spencer follows you into the kitchen where you get a cup of tap water with shaky hands.

"I don't want to 'just leave it alone'. You're hurting." He said, his voice unbearably gentle and you scoffed. "You are. I want to help you but I can't when you push me away like this."

"I don't need help!" Your voice raised with frustration.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you shutting me out?" You lean back against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest again.

"It's nothing." You say, weaker this time. Spencer steps closer to you, hands grasping at your elbows.

"Please, angel. Talk to me." He begs. You look up into his brown eyes filled with longing. He stares at you like you're his whole world. The reason he gets up in the morning, the one he dreams about when he sleeps, the person he comes to for everything. His guiding light in the darkest of times. The muse for the poetry in his mind. The cause for the blood pumping through his veins, his happiness, his laughter, his peace, his warmth. His love.

You shake your head, looking down. You weren't deserving of his love. How could you be. What had you done to make him devote his entire being to you? He lips turned downward and he lets out a soft sigh.

"Just go to bed Spence." You murmur. He slips out of the kitchen, shuffling back to the bedroom where he'll sleep alone in the bed you shared, dreaming of the girl he feels slipping through his grasp.

Five months ago you were kidnapped. The team was on a case in Ontario, an unsub who kidnapped women and tortured them before making them fight for their life against him. When you got there, four bodies had been dumped and another woman was missing. What you didn't know at the time was that finding that missing woman would result in a lot of suffering.

Garcia had found three different addresses under the unsub's name about a week into the case and the team split up, groups of two heading to each address. Morgan still blames himself for what happened to you.

When you pulled up to the unassuming house and got out, you were pretty confident that the unsub wasn't here. You were preparing yourself to radio Hotch and give him the all clear as the two of you cased the house when suddenly you were hit on the back of the head with a vase. You were out cold before the unsub even left to take care of Morgan. When Derek woke up again, the unsub was gone and it was clear, you were the next victim.

You had been held captive for three days before the team found you. They stormed the abandoned church you'd been tied up in and when Spencer cut you loose, you fell into his arms, sobbing into his shoulder. That evening was when the nightmares started. At first, they were dreams of you reliving your kidnapping, sometimes you weren't saved in time and the last thing you saw was Spencer's worried face, which you then woke up to after he heard you sleep talking. Then the dreams changed.

The change happened after Spencer asked you to move in with him. At the time, you were scared of such a big leap. You didn't know if you were ready for such a change after what happened to you. So you said no. The way Spencer's face fell at the rejection but quickly fixed itself into an apologetic smile made your heart hurt. He reassured you, he took the blame for the awkwardness that filled the room, he wrapped you in a hug and kissed your forehead and you thought everything was fine.

But your nightmares became something else. The abandoned church melded into a dark forest and the unsub turned into an amorphous creature that chased you, that you were unable to look at. Unable to face.

And the nightmares became more. Insomnia, anxiety, irritation, migraines, exhaustion, you name it. You found yourself pushing people away, pushing Spencer away. You didn't want his pity. This was your fault. If you hadn't split up with Morgan then maybe this wouldn't be happening. If you had just moved in with Spencer, maybe-

"Angel?" You heard Spencer's voice and you blinked back to reality. You were standing in the kitchen at the BAU, pouring coffee into your mug. Well, you were pouring coffee into your mug. By now it was spilling over the brim, scalding your hand and you hadn't even noticed until Spencer called out for you. "Shit, honey, what- hang on." He caught a glimpse of your hand and stepped forward, taking the coffee pot from you and putting it back, grabbing paper towels. He gently takes your hand, running it under cold water in the sink before wiping the counter.

"Sorry, I- I didn't realize-"

"It's okay. It's not your fault." Spencer says softly, drying your hand. You stare at him, wondering why he was being so nice. He tosses the paper towels and meets your gaze. "Where did you go just now?"

"Nowhere, I was- I was here."

"Angel..."

"Please, Spence, I don't want to do this right now."

"Do what?"

"Argue." Your voice was a borderline whine, your lips almost pouting.

"We're not arguing, we're just talking."

"But every time we're 'just talking' it turns into an argument." You get frustrated when you feel your eyes welling up.

"It won't. I promise, we'll just talk." Spencer says gently, stepping closer and holding your hand. He brings it up to his lips, kissing it. "How is your day?" You scoff but a small smile creeps onto your face.

"Fine. What about you?" You asked.

"Amazing now that I'm with you." He grins, satisfied with his attempt at cheering you up.

"Cheesy." You muttered.

"You love it." You looked up at him with a smile.

"I do."

You were dreaming again. The forest felt all too familiar. Your feet stung with every step and you could hear the creature behind you again. Tonight, however, the dream changed. As you ran, the light showed up again but you were prepared. You saw the root on the ground and you leapt over it. You kept running, the light growing bigger and brighter. This is it. Finally, you were going to make it out. You were going to make it past the forest! You ran towards the light and the trees grew sparse. Once you reached the edge, you stopped. In front of you was a gap and on the other side, it was bright. Sunny. No dark forest, no creatures, no fear. All you had to do was jump. You tried to make yourself do it, you tried to force yourself to take the leap but you wouldn't. The creature was behind you, gaining on you again and as you turned around slowly to see what it was... you woke up.

You inhaled sharply as your eyes opened. It was still dark in the room but you felt something on your face. You blinked and heard a voice.

"You're okay. It's okay, angel." Spencer's voice came from above you. He was sitting at your side, a hand cupping your cheek as the other rubbed up and down your side comfortingly.

"Spence?"

"I'm here. It's alright." You move to sit up, pressing your back against the headboard. Spencer sits next to you, taking your hand. He opens his mouth to ask you the question he asks every time but you speak first.

"I'm in a forest."

"What?"

"In my dream. In every dream. I'm in a forest. It's dark and- and cold, and... something is chasing me. Some creature or something, I don't know. I never look back to see what it is I just keep running." Spencer nods, not wanting to speak in case it irritates you into not talking. "It's the exact same every night. I'm always in the forest. I've always woken up before I make it out." You swallow hard. "Tonight, um... I made it out. I got past the trees, I was out of the forest. And... there was this cliff. A gap, kind of, between me and the other side. And the other side was like... a paradise. It was green and sunny and... beautiful. And all I had to do was jump over the gap but I didn't. I couldn't for some reason." You stopped talking and Spencer understood that that was where the dream ended.

"You know, um... Your dreams can be a manifestation of your emotions. It's your body and mind's way of dealing with the stress and grief of what happened-"

"It's not that." You snap.

"Okay." He says quickly, gently. "I'm just... I'm sorry, I shouldn't try to rationalize it. Many people's dreams don't have a meaning at all. They're just nonsense."

"Is that what you think my dream is?"

"Do you really want to know what I think?" He asks genuinely.

"...yes." You find yourself telling the truth. You actually do want to hear Spencer's opinion. Maybe it'll help the nightmares stop. And you really want them to stop so if that means enduring your boyfriends dream analysis (which is all a bunch of bullshit anyway) you'll gladly do so.

"Typically, running through the woods in a dream represents a personal journey. The woods often symbolize the unconscious mind, with its mysteries and hidden emotions and running through them could represent exploring your subconscious or facing your fears."

"But in the dreams I'm scared. Something is chasing me." Spencer thinks for a second.

"That could indicate feelings of fear, anxiety, or uncertainty about your life's direction. It might be a sign that you need to address your fears and anxieties in your waking life."

"And what about the cliff at the end?"

"Dreaming about a cliff often symbolizes major life changes, challenges, or turning points. It might indicate that you're facing a significant decision or situation that requires you to make a leap of faith." Your genius explains.

"Hmm." You hummed, deep in thought.

"That's all you have to say?" Spencer chuckles a little bit.

"Yeah, I just... I need to think about some things." You murmured, shifting to lay on your side. Spencer laid down next to you. It turns out his analysis was a lot more helpful than you thought it would be.

You had a plan. You knew now, what was causing your dreams. 'A significant decision', 'a leap of faith'. It was Spencer. More specifically, what he asked you four months ago. To move in with him. It all made sense now when you think about it. The forest you were running through was your life. The creature chasing you was the fear and doubt in your relationship and the only way to escape it was to take the leap off the cliff to the other side. Spencer had basically spelled it out for you and you were still to stupid to see it. So now you had a plan.

"Hey, Spence, do you want to go out for dinner tonight?" You asked, Friday evening at work. His eyes lit up and he smiled.

"Yes, yeah that'd be great!" He grinned. He couldn't remember the last time the two of you went out to dinner. You gave him a tired smile as you turned back to finish your work.

You got out of work at a reasonable time and you and Spencer decided to walk to the restaurant down the street. When you sat down, Spencer took your hand.

"Is something going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"This is the first time we've gone on a date in months."

"I'm sorry that I've been neglecting you and our relationship. I've just been really tired and I know that's not a good excuse but it's all I have. I shouldn't have pushed you away, Spencer. I'm sorry." Spencer felt overwhelmed with your sudden apologies and he gave you a smile.

"You don't have to apologize, angel. And you weren't neglecting me, you were going through something horrible."

"And I took it out on you-"

"Hey," Spencer squeezed your hand. "It's okay. It's not your fault." His kisses your knuckles gently, like the wonderful man he is.

"I wanted to ask you something." You said, and Spencer tilts his head. "I, um... I wanted to ask you... uh... I wanted to ask you to move in with me." His eyes widened and his smile grew bigger.

"Really? You want that?"

"I do. I'm taking the leap."

"Okay. I'll move in with you." You smiled, feeling like a weight was lifted off your chest. You leaned over the table and he met you halfway, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as his hand cupped your jaw.

That night, Spencer stayed the night at your house and you laid in bed together, curled up, just enjoying each other's presence. And then, for the first night in months, you slept peacefully, dreaming of living in domestic bliss with your lovely boyfriend.

[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.

[leyavo]

Not the same

Soap x ex Medic/Soldier!reader

Summary: Johnny can’t help, but notice how different things are since you returned to the base and joined a different department. An op that nearly cost you your life has left you having to deal with an injury for life.

Hurt/angst/comfort [Masterlist]

Johnny Mactavish stared at the release papers on the desk, your signature scrawled along the dotted line. He sucked in a breath, gaze sweeping the locked room of the Armoury.

Empty, but that’s to be expected late at night. The same greying man behind the glass booth, sliding papers and weapons through the box to give them back to their owners.

You however were nowhere to be found.

Johnny knew something was off, the way Gaz offered to hand in the broken rifle and sign it in, on his behalf. How Price had enrolled him in more specialised training to fill his free time and Ghost, quite literally living up to his name and not being seen.

He wondered how long you’d been at the same base, tucked away from the same corridors you used to walk down together a few years ago.

It had been two years since you’d left him, no warning. Just a letter pinned to the fridge, short and to the point. I can’t do this anymore, sorry. He still has it buried at the back of his drawer, as if one day he’ll figure out why you really left.

He knows the last voluntary medic op nearly cost you your life. Hell he remembers watching you get wheeled through to the infirmary and how helpless he felt when he couldn’t ease your pain.

Johnny tried not to think about that day. It’s been two years, you’re both different people and he’s more than satisfied to leave all that in the past. Even you. Well that’s what he’s trying to tell himself.

So Johnny finds himself searching for you wherever he goes. Wonders if you’ve ever seen him from a distance and chose to avoid him.

It’s not till weeks later, does Johnny see you for the first time. You’re talking to Price, opening cases of ammo and weapons for their mission. Making a note of all the contents and numbering the supplies for them to take out with them.

The right side of your neck and jaw marred by puckered skin. A small chunk missing out of the top of your ear. He notes that you appear healthy, colour to your face that wasn’t there before you left. A smile playing on your lips as Price slips a dad joke into the conversation.

It’s been a long time since Johnny’s seen that smile. Even longer since it’s been directed at him.

“Approach her from the left,” Ghost said, clapping the back of his shoulder. “No hearing in her right ear.” He joins the captain and you, offering you a handshake and rolling his mask to rest over his nose.

So you never did get your hearing back, he wonders if that’s why you left. Your gaze dropping to their lips straight after greeting Ghost and Gaz.

And then those eyes fall on him.

“Mactavish.” You nod, fingers fumbling over the clasp of the last tactical box.

His chest aches, stomach twists at the short and clipped tone you use for him. No johnny, no Soap and definitely no more eye contact. Lips pressed in a tight line, brows furrowed as you struggled to shut the box.

He reminds himself that you’re not his anymore, not meant to take it to heart, but he does.

A German shepherd’s by your side, fur raised at the back of its neck as Johnny closes the distance. You’re none the wiser though, can’t hear the low growls until the dog pushes between your legs and nudges your thigh on the left.

Johnny approaching you on your right, too distracted by your presence that he forgot you wouldn’t hear his footsteps.

He doesn’t even think, it’s second nature for him to sweep in and ease the tension, palm on your back before he even realises what he’s doing.

You still under his touch, rolling your shoulders and slipping away from him, dog at your heels as you exit the room with not so much a glance in his direction. A nod to the captain and then you were gone.

Johnny lies awake at night thinking about how you’re stranger to him. He tries to ask the guys if they talk to you and if you’re okay, but he’s given the same answer. Why don’t you just ask her. That’s not his place anymore though.

The second time he sees you, you’re on the other side of the armoury. Picking apart a pistol and cleaning it on the table. The dull hum of your favourite band playing on the radio, that you’re unaware of the guy trying to talk to you.

Johnny notices though, notices how unbalanced your world is now. How even the simplest of interactions hold your whole attention, as if you have to piece it all together like a puzzle.

Ghost said that you’re still getting used to hearing from one ear and even then it’s still slightly muffled for you. A reason why you focus on people’s lips incase you can’t quite make out what they’re saying.

The guy next to you growing impatient, he rounds the table and chucks his hand gun on your work station.

“Are you fucking listening to me?”

You flinch, pistol clanging to the floor. Johnny’s halfway across the armoury, but Ghost’s beat him to it. The man’s face pressed up against the clear booth, breath fogging the glass.

Ghost taps the sign where the guy’s face is squished up against, “read next time dick head.” He shoves the guy away and gives him his gun back, telling him to come back tomorrow.

The hard of hearing sign in the bottom corner, for you and the old man that work there.

You’ve been spending more time with Ghost lately, he’s been taking the dog around the base to familiarise him with the place whilst you sit at your workstation most of the day.

The thought of you with someone else makes Johnny sick to his stomach, but you’re not his he reminds himself as he leaves Ghost to console you.

The third time Johnny sees you it’s on his own accord. He heard about the faulty flash bang grenade that went off in the armoury and he’s rushing to the infirmary.

Only to be told you’ve returned to your workstation. It can’t hurt to check on you? All he wants is to see if you’re okay.

It’s late, you’ve taken over the old man’s shift as he covered for you whilst you were getting checked out.

You’re standing in the middle of the armoury, staring at the marks on the floor. There’s something in the way you hold yourself, that makes him walk to you. Your arms folded over your chest, fingers digging into your biceps.

You seem so small, a shell of the person he knew and still loves.

He doesn’t hesitate, his arms wrapping your trembling form. Palm smoothing the side of your arm, letting you lean against him.

The familiar warmth spreading through his chest. The way your head tucks under his chin and your cheek against his chest. Your hands twisting in the fabric of his hoody, trying to pull him closer.

Johnny knows more than anyone what it’s like to witness the destruction of an explosion. It shook yours and his whole foundation, tearing you apart in a blink of an eye.

The nurse warned him, your hearing might be affected from the bang and it’ll take a few days to go back to normal.

That’s nothing compared to what it could possibly trigger for you though, he remembers how every little loud noise at home caused you to spiral. All the nights he held you, reassuring you that you were safe and that the roof wasn’t caving in on top of you. Hearing you run the cold tap at night as you tried to soothe the itchiness of the burns on your flesh.

He doesn’t waste his words, just holds you knowing that you needed him to ground you. Needed the weight to bring you back from wherever you’d gone.

And you let him.

[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 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.”

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.

[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.

[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

[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.

[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."

[deviouz]

Im in a fluffy mood so uh: jason and reader are kissing but reader has long hair thats getting in their way so reader rears backs to get that bullshit out of the way but is struggling without a hairtie. At first jason's trying not to laugh but eventually grabs a hairtie and helps reader tie the hair back and more fluff ensues.

Yeah i almost tried for spice but all i got was domestic fluff so have this instead lol

ohhh this is just too sweet ):

i’d like to imagine that it becomes something of a comforting ritual for both jason and his partner. him coming home from patrol, covered in blood and body still on edge from exerting himself too much. you’re worried sick because it’s the fifth night in a row where he’s come stumbling back at the crack of dawn and doing his damned best to hide the subtle wince with every step he takes, heavy boots weighing him down like cinderblocks wading through water.

after you’ve given him the signature ‘really?’ look, you’re helping him to the shower and tossing some pajamas and a towel in the dryer for when he gets out because you know what gotham’s everlasting rain can do to a person.

and once you’re in bed, head nestled against his chest and ear laid over where his heart is, you finally allow yourself to relax.

“so… how was your day?”

“jay, i don’t really think that’s the most appropriate conversation starter.”

he heaved a sigh, guilty as ever, and trails gentle fingertips along your spine. his touch was simple yet impactful, and it worked wonders on the anxiety plaguing your weary mind.

“i know, sweetheart, really. i just… i dunno. city’s not safe enough yet. i can’t stop until it is.”

his touch trails up a bit higher, working past your shoulders and up the nape of your neck until they finally begin to work along your scalp with a perfected graze.

“and you didn’t have to wait up. y’know i don’t like you staying up so late — you have to sleep sometime.”

you peer up at him with a bittersweet smile. “i’m always gonna wait up for you.”

jason presses a loving kiss to your forehead, eyes gleaming with nothing but pure adoration. “you’re everything i’ve ever dreamed of and more. i hope you know that.”

there was no way in hell you were going to tear up this late at night. though, you supposed, it could be considered morning, given that it’s nearly four in the morning.

you opted to deflect.

“shut up.”

“whatever you say, angel.”

his fingers began to work through your hair, carefully easing the knots out and allowing you to cling to him a little tighter. maybe you’d ask him to brush it once the two of you had gotten enough sleep. maybe you’d perch yourself upon the barstool at the kitchen island, book in hand as you read the next chapter of his newest read while he lost himself in your voice and the comforting mundanity that came along with a more domestic life. maybe then you’d be able to push aside the fact that your boyfriend was wanted dead by far more people than you’d like to imagine. maybe then you wouldn’t have to worry if one night you waited up just for him to never show up again.

“i love you, jay.”

“i love you too.”

i fear i may have went too angsty (i definitely did) so here are a few headcanons?? oops?? :D

i’d like to imagine that jason starts keeping a hair tie around his wrist just in case you ever need one. oh, is it hot out and you’ve forgotten to bring a clip to put your hair up with? don’t worry, jason’s already spinning you around and expertly tying your hair up like the good boyfriend he is.

oh, and he’s definitely gone down a rabbit hole on how best to care for your hair, no matter the length or hair type. he’ll be damned if can’t take care of you in every way imaginable.

playing and caring for your hair can be a bit of a grounding thing for the both of you. post-showers means he gets to tug you between his legs on the couch and get to work while you tell him about your day, gossip about whatever’s on your mind, or listen to him talk about his favorite books and why you should read them if you haven’t already.

jason also likes how easily he can get you to relax just by running the blunt of his nails along your scalp. you practically melt against him, and he has to mentally prevent himself from cooing out at you for the millionth time.

i lowkey hate this :D anon i am so sorry :D pls forgive me

[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

[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.

[isa-beenme]

Whispers of Secrets and Starlight

Welcome to part 2 of Whispers of Secrets and Starlight 🥳🥳🥳

I was praying for times I could use this song

Btw if anyone is wondering, idk why but this is what I imagine the daily outfits our future high lady wears: all of this or this other too, and a lot of other kpop outfits actually, the concepts are soooo good

Also... my bff who lives with me helped me write the smut, I'm too shy to do everything by myself so if you feel the writing is a bit off it probably wasn't just me in the document lol

Warnings: Use of Y/N, ACOTAR rewrite, female main character, Tamlin knows how to do politics 😔, 10% book following and it's gonna get worse, mentions of SA, PTSD, smut so... beware minors, mentions of war, Rhysand 🤤

Whispers of Secrets and Starlight - Masterlist

Chapter 9: Heart On The Window

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, its glow casting flickering golden light across the maps and reports strewn across your desk. A cup of untouched tea sat beside them, long gone cold. You didn’t even notice when Rhysand stepped into your study until his voice curled around you.

"You’re working too hard, darling."

Your lips twitched, but you didn’t look up from the report in your hands. "Pot, meet kettle."

Rhysand let out a soft huff of laughter as he crossed the room. The moment he reached you, he leaned against your desk, one hand braced beside your papers, the other offering a sealed letter.

Your brows rose as you took it. "What’s this?"

"News from Cassian."

That caught your full attention.

You set the report down and broke the seal, eyes scanning the contents. Your heart thrummed as you read. Rhys watched you carefully, his own report still in hand.

"The first female Illyrian battalion," you murmured. "That’s… that’s never been done before."

"One of the many changes I’ve been making these past centuries," Rhysand said softly.

You lifted your gaze to his, and for a moment, all you could do was look at him. This High Lord who had spent centuries fighting against deep-seated traditions, against Illyrian warlords who would rather see their females clipped than ever give them a sword — or freedom. A male who had been changing Prythian long before anyone had even noticed.

"You’re making history," you said, voice quiet.

A shadow of a smile ghosted over his lips. "We’re making history. They only accepted after Cassian told them a female would be commanding their moves. You."

The words settled deep in your chest but before you could say more, you glanced down at the rest of the letter. Cassian had intensified the training of the Illyrians, preparing them for war, making sure they were ready for what was to come.

"Az is extending his spy network, I don't know if you already read his report today" you murmured. "He's been trying to find more information about Hybern’s allies. Do we know if they’ve been securing more partnerships in the last few years?"

Rhysand’s jaw tightened. "Not officially. But Amren believes they will be showing themselves soon."

You sighed, setting the letter down. "Lucien said Tamlin has a map of the Cauldron’s pieces," you reminded him. "And now we know that the temples marked on it have been robbed recently. Hybern is gathering the pieces."

"I know, Amren told me you both figured it out two days ago."

You swallowed, looking back at him. "She thinks we won’t have to worry, though. The temple in our territory is being heavily guarded now, and I warned Helion. I mean, you technically warned Helion. The Day Court is prepared in case they are attacked too."

Rhysand nodded. "That’s the one thing keeping her from completely losing her mind over this. She's been surprisingly calm, judging the situation."

A smirk tugged at your lips. "And you?"

He hummed. "I suppose it helps me sleep at night."

"You don’t sleep."

A slow, wicked smile curved his mouth. "Maybe I would, if someone warmed my bed more often."

Your breath caught. But before he could push his advantage, you rolled your eyes and turned back to the reports.

"We still don’t know how far Tamlin is willing to go with all this," you said, attempting to steer the conversation back on track.

Rhysand let out a mocking sigh, but he nodded. "Lucien’s been doing what he can from within," he said, "but Tamlin is wary of him. He won’t let him get close to the real plans."

Your nails tapped against the desk. "If Lucien can’t get close enough, then we need another plan."

Rhysand leaned in, his voice a velvet promise. "Don’t worry, darling. I already have one."

You narrowed your eyes. "Do I even want to know?"

His grin was pure trouble. "You’ll find out soon enough if we need to use it. If not, I won't stress you with it."

You sighed. "You're impossible."

"And yet, you adore me." You did. Gods help you, you did.

Rhysand leaned back on the desk, rolling his shoulders, exhaustion from war planning still evident in the sharp lines of his face. But when he looked at you, his violet eyes softened, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"And how is Feyre's reading coming along?" he asked, the shift in topic intentional. He knew you needed a break from discussing battle strategies, and nothing made you more at peace than talking about your cousin’s progress.

You smiled, stepping closer to him. “She’s doing so well. You’d be proud of her.” A hint of pride laced your voice as you continued. “She’s becoming more confident, and even asks me to sit with her while she reads out loud. She still struggles sometimes, but she doesn’t hesitate to ask for help anymore. And she already thanked the priestess who's been guiding her more times than Iris can tell her it's not needed.”

Rhys hummed in satisfaction. “She also reached out to me, asking to restart her physical training.”

Your brows lifted in surprise. “Really?”

He nodded, reaching for your hand, tracing lazy circles against your palm. “I set up one of our trainers to work with her. She’s determined.”

You exhaled, warmth filling your chest. “That’s all I ever wanted for her, so she will feel strong again.”

Rhysand tugged you forward, his arms wrapping around your waist as you instinctively circled yours around his neck. He let out a pleased sigh, nuzzling your temple.

“You’re happy she’s trusting you,” you whispered.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Of course, I am. I need your family to like me, don’t I? Especially if we pretend to get married.”

The way he said 'pretend’ made your stomach flutter. Your cheeks burned as you averted your gaze, and Rhys, ever the predator, caught the reaction immediately.

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “What’s that look for?” You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you there. His voice was softer this time, almost unsure. “Do you want to marry me?”

Your breath hitched. “Rhys.”

“I mean it,” he murmured. “Do you want to officially be my High Lady one day?”

You stared at him, at the sincerity in his expression, at the slight vulnerability peeking through his usual confidence. Your heart clenched, and you wondered how long he’d been holding onto that question, too afraid to ask.

“Of course, you insane male,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his. “It’s been a process to love you, but every day, I feel like I’m falling even more.”

Rhys let out a shaky breath before sealing his lips over yours. The kiss was slow, reverent as if he were committing this moment to memory. But then his hands skimmed down your back, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

You pulled away just enough to chuckle. “See? This is exactly why I asked for separate studies.” But you didn't made a move to stop him from taking your shirt off.

Rhys grinned, voice husky. “Are you complaining?”

You leaned in, lips grazing his ear. “If you prove to me that you’re my good boy,” you purred, “I might be willing to warm your bed for a while.”

A growl rumbled in his chest as he swiftly lifted you onto the desk, pushing aside the endless war papers without a second thought. “Oh, darling,” he murmured, kissing down your throat, hands already roaming. “You’ll never have to ask twice.”

And Mother above, did he prove himself.

War papers sprawled across the polished wooden surface, their edges curling slightly as if mocking the chaos they represented. Yet, amidst the tension of impending battles and political strife, you and Rhysand found yourselves locked in a different kind of conflict, one of desire, power, and unspoken promises.

Rhysand stood tall, his broad shoulders filling the space as he leaned over you, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was both tender and voracious. It was a kiss that spoke of reverence, of a man committing every detail of the moment to memory. But as his hands slid down your back, his fingers catching on the top that holds your breasts, the tenderness gave way to something wilder. He tugged the fabric upward, a silent demand that left no room for misinterpretation.

You knew Rhysand’s tendencies, his inability to keep his hands — or his lips — to himself when you were near. It was a game you both have been playing for a while, a dance of power and submission that neither was willing to abandon.

A primal growl rumbled in his chest, deep and resonant. With deliberate slowness, Rhysand dipped his head, his mouth closing over your breast. His tongue swirled lazily, a hungry exploration that made you arch into him, his breath hitching in your chest. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he suckled, his teeth scratching tour skin in a way that only heightened the pleasure. It was a sensation that was both tender and rough, a perfect blend of his duality, the gentle lover and the dominant High Lord.

“Rhys,” you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair as you tilted your head back, exposing your neck to his roaming lips. His name was a plea, a surrender to the sensations overwhelming you.

He hummed against your skin, a vibration that sent shivers down your spine, before pulling away just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were dark with desire, his pupils dilated as he drank in the sight of you. “You taste like heaven everytime I try you again,” he murmured, his voice thick with longing.

But he wasn’t done yet.

With a wicked grin, he slid lower, his lips and tongue mapping every inch of you again, committing it to memory. His breath was hot and eager as he buried his face between your thighs, his hands spreading your legs wider to grant him better access. You were wet, your arousal evident, and he wasted no time in devouring you with a ferocity that left you trembling and gasping for breath.

His tongue was relentless, tracing patterns that made you squirm and moan. He lapped at you eagerly, his teeth scratching your sensitive skin in a way that only added to the pleasure. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as he explored every inch of you again, his mouth a tempest of sensation.

“Rhysand,” you cried out, voice breaking as your climax built, threatening to consume you. Your fingers dug into the desk, nails scraping against the wood as you fought to anchor herself to reality. The wood almost cracked under the force you were holding it.

He growled against you, a sound of satisfaction and possession, before pulling away just enough to look up at your eyes. His lips were glistening, your essence coating them, and the sight was enough to send a fresh wave of desire crashing over you. “Not yet,” he murmured, his voice a command. “I’m not done with you.”

You shivered at his words, your body aching for release, but you nodded, trusting him implicitly. This was your dance, after all, a delicate balance of power and surrender.

With a smirk, he rose to his knees, his eyes never leaving yours as he unbuckled his belt. His pants fell to the floor, revealing his erection, thick and throbbing, a testament to his desire for you. He didn’t rush, taking his time to savor the moment, to let your anticipation build.

“You’re mine,” he stated, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill through you. It wasn’t a question, but a declaration, a reminder of the rummaging bond between you.

“Yours,” you breathed, voice soft but unwavering. You were his, and in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to be claimed by him again.

He leaned over you, his hands gripping the edge of the desk as he positioned himself at your entrance. His eyes locked with yours, he thrust forward, filling you in one slow, deliberate motion. You gasped, nails digging into the wood as you adjusted to his size, your body welcoming him with a tightness that made him groan.

“So fucking perfect,” he muttered, his voice strained as he began to move, his hips snapping in a rhythm that was both urgent and controlled. The desk creaked beneath you, the papers long forgotten as you become lost in the moment.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, your thighs rasping on his jacked as you met his thrusts, your body moving in sync with his. The power exchange was palpable, his dominance evident in every stroke, yet you were no passive participant. You were his equal, your desire matching his own as you surrendered to the pleasure he wrought.

“Harder,” you asked — never demanded, your voice breathless as you tilted your hips, seeking deeper penetration. You wanted nothing more than to carve your nails in his back, hold him closer to you, but you held yourself back. In the future, you promised yourself.

He obliged, his thrusts becoming more forceful, the desk groaning under the pressure of your passion. His hands gripped your hips, bruising in their intensity, as he pounded into you, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“You like that, don’t you?” he growled, his lips brushing your ear as he nipped at your lobe. “My good girl, taking my cock like you were made for it.”

“Yes,” you moaned, your head falling back as you surrendered to the pleasure. “Because I was made for you, Rhys. Always for you.”

His thrusts quickened, his control slipping as he neared the edge. “Come for me,” he commanded, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Let me feel you fall apart around me.”

Your climax hit you like a wave, crashing over you with an intensity that left you breathless. You cried out, your walls clenching around him as you shattered, body trembling with the force of your release.

He followed moments later, his growl of satisfaction filling the room as he spilled himself deep within you. His body stilled, his forehead resting against yours as you both struggled to catch your breath.

For a long moment, you remained like that, hearts pounding in unison, the only sound the crackling of the fire. Then, with a soft chuckle, Rhysand pulled back, his lips brushing yours in a tender kiss.

“I believe I’ve proven myself,” he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction.

You smiled, your fingers tracing the lines of his face as you leaned into him. “You have,” you agreed, tone playful. “Though I suppose I’ll have to keep testing you, just to be sure.”

He grinned, a wicked glint in his eyes. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, darling.”

And as you leaned into each other, the world outside — with its wars and worries — faded into insignificance. In that moment, there was only you, your desire, and the unspoken promise of more to come.

He took himself out of your warmth and winnowed both of you to his bathroom, where the bath started to fill itself under his silent command.

☆

The warm water calmed over both of you as steam curled around the marble walls. Rhys sat between your legs, his back resting against your chest, his wings slightly spread as he let you run a washcloth gently over his shoulders. His head leaned back against your collarbone, eyes closed, breathing deep.

You knew he wasn’t just relaxing, he was listening. Feeling. Memorizing every little touch, every caress, every drop of water sliding between you both. Your fingers traced soft circles on his arms before dipping lower, washing away the sweat and heat from earlier. You were always cautious during those moments, always careful with what you said and did.

Because you knew. You knew how Amarantha had broken him in ways no one else could see. How she had forced him into submission, twisted pleasure into something sickening. How, even now, the wrong words — hell, sometimes even the wrong tone — could bring back the shadows of those fifty years under her claws.

He never hid anything from you. When you started experimenting with your bodies, he had laid his boundaries out, not because he was ashamed or scared, but because he trusted you. And so you were careful every time. Not cautious in a way that made him feel fragile, but careful in a way that let him know he was safe.

Your hands drifted up to his hair, gently massaging his scalp. “You were perfect,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple.

His lips quirked up. “I always am.”

You let out a soft laugh, rubbing circles into his chest. “I mean it.”

His breath hitched slightly, as if he hadn’t expected the words. As if, even after all this time, he still didn’t know what to do with your gentle appreciation for all of his effort into your pleasure.

So you continued, voice low, steady. “You’re always so good to me, Rhys. Always so careful, even when you don’t have to be.”

One of his hands came up to cover yours, gripping it tightly against his chest. Your other hand dipped into the water, trailing down his spine. No scratches. No harsh touches. Just warmth. Just you.

When you reached for the soap, Rhys shifted slightly, making room as you lathered it between your hands and ran it along his skin. But when you started to reach for his neck, he stilled. You knew why.

There had been a time — just a few months ago — when he would scrub his own skin raw after being with Amarantha. When he had tried to erase every last trace of her, even if it meant bruising himself in the process. And so now, every time you bathed together, you made sure to leave your scent on him somehow. To remind him it was you touching him. Only you. For the rest of your lives, if he wanted.

So instead of washing the soap away completely, you leaned down, kissing the spot down his ear. Your scent lingered there, mixing with his own.

“You're mine,” you whispered. Not as a claim. But as a reassurance.

Rhys exhaled, tension melting from his body as he turned in your arms, cupping your face with wet hands.

His forehead pressed against yours. “Yours,” he murmured back.

He kissed you then, slow, deep, and reverent. As if you were something sacred. And when he pulled you tighter against him, when his wings curled protectively around your back, you knew this wasn’t just about washing away the past.

This was about building something new. Something better. Something that could be yours.

As the bathwater cooled and the steam in the room began to fade, Rhys pressed one last lingering kiss to your shoulder before exhaling a slow, steady breath.

You both moved in unspoken sync, toweling off, dressing in soft nightclothes, the weight of the day and the amount of hours laying down war plans slowly pressing down on your limbs. But just as you turned to head for your own chambers, Rhys caught your wrist.

“Stay with me tonight,” he murmured.

You blinked up at him, searching his face. He had been the one to ask for separate rooms in the first place, not because he didn’t want you near, but because of his nightmares. He hadn’t wanted to wake you up in the middle of the night — even if sometimes he couldn't control his emotions from slipping through the bond —, hadn’t wanted to steal any of your attention away from Feyre when she was still adjusting to Velaris, to being free from Tamlin, to her new life.

You swallowed, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand. “Are you sure?”

Rhys hesitated. Just for a moment. Then he nodded. “The nightmares haven’t really stopped,” he admitted, voice quiet. “But…” His fingers tightened slightly around yours. “When you’re with me, I—” He exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair. “I always feel calmer. And sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night, all I want is to know that you’re here. That you’re safe. That you’re with me.”

Your chest ached at the raw honesty in his voice. So you stepped closer, reaching up to cradle his jaw in your hands. “Of course, Rhys,” you whispered. “I’ll always be with you.”

Something flickered in his eyes, something deep and reverent and yours. He kissed you, soft and slow, before taking your hand and leading you to his bed. And as you curled up together beneath the covers, as his arms wrapped securely around you, as he buried his face against your neck and breathed you in, you knew. Tonight, if the nightmares came, he wouldn’t have to face them alone.

☆

The next morning, you made your way to Feyre’s room, knocking lightly before stepping inside. She was already seated at her desk, a broad smile lighting up her face as she eagerly gestured for you to come closer.

“Look at this,” she said, practically buzzing with excitement. She slid a sheet of parchment across the desk, her calligraphy significantly neater than it had been before. “It’s getting better, right?”

You picked up the paper, tilting your head as you examined her careful strokes. The improvement was obvious, her letters were more even, her spacing more consistent. You looked back at her and grinned. “It’s amazing, Feyre. I’m so proud of you.”

A pleased blush dusted her cheeks. “Thanks. I actually enjoy it now, learning how to read and write. And not just that, I'm getting better at learning how to use my fae senses, how to listen to my instincts, to my body. It feels… good.”

Your chest swelled with pride. She had come so far from the girl who had once flinched at every single loud sound or every bright light. Now, she was embracing it. Embracing herself.

Before you could say more, a knock sounded at the door. A servant entered, holding out a sealed letter. “A letter from the Spring Court,” they said, before bowing and leaving.

Feyre turned the letter over in her hands, fingers running over the seal. “It’s from Lucien,” she murmured before breaking the seal and making an effort to read the first words. You couldn't contain your smile seeing her focused face. “You read it. It’s about the war, you’ll understand it better.”

You nodded, unfolding the delicate parchment that smelled too much like flowers. Lucien’s handwriting was precise but rushed, as if he’d been careful yet eager to write this.

Things are progressing. One of the warlords — curiously one of Beron’s youngest sons — has been particularly talkative, and I’ve managed to pry a lot of information out of him — he also let slip that Beron has been called to participate in the planning but didn't agree to it (yet). He’s been boasting about Tamlin’s plans to allow Hybern’s forces to use the Spring Court as a staging ground. It’s worse than we thought. Hybern isn’t just moving forces into Spring. They’re planning to use it as a funnel to invade Summer and Autumn next — if Beron doesn't agree. But here’s the interesting part: Tamlin is still keeping secrets from Hybern. He’s hesitant about giving them full access to the wards through the Wall, and I think I can use that. I’ve been planting doubt, making it seem like Hybern might betray him. He’s starting to trust me again, which means I’m getting closer to seeing what else he’s hiding.

Your grip on the letter tightened. Tamlin. That spineless, arrogant coward. Even after everything, he was still helping Hybern. You kept reading.

We’ve also been feeding him false information about the Night Court’s movements. He thinks they have mapped out a move to retrieve you from Night, and he’s been working with Hybern to prepare an extraction plan. But the map he has is the one Azriel altered. When the time comes, they’ll be walking straight into their own ambush. If this works, we’ll cripple their forces before the war even begins.

A sharp smile tugged at your lips. Good. Everything was going according to the plan.You were about to hand the letter back to Feyre when you caught the last few lines.

Tell your cousin I hope she’s doing well. I know this must be difficult for her, but she’s strong. She always has been. And I miss our talks. I miss you. When I come back I'll teach you how to make that tea we were talking about last week. Yours truly, Lucien V.

Your brows lifted slightly as you glanced at Feyre, who was trying very hard to pretend she wasn’t eagerly waiting to hear the contents of the letter.

You cleared your throat, folding the parchment. “The war news is good. Lucien’s getting Tamlin to trust him again, and they’re feeding him false plans to lure Hybern’s forces into a trap.”

Feyre exhaled in relief. “That’s great.”

You hesitated, watching her carefully. “And… Lucien wrote something else. Something personal to you. I'm sorry that I glanced at it for too long.”

Feyre’s face immediately turned red. “Oh?”

“He misses you.” You smirked, handing her the letter. “Wanna talk about it?”

She swallowed, fingers tightening on the parchment as she read his words. Then she sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.

“My feelings for Lucien are… complicated,” she admitted. “I’m not certain about anything, but I think I like him. A lot.” She bit her lip, eyes flicking down to the letter again. “He’s been really sweet. And he's been so patient with me. He never pushes, never expects anything. Never make fun of the words I get wrong or my bad calligraphy. And never complains about how much time it takes me to answer his letters when his comes in less than a few hours. He just… listens. He makes me feel safe.”

Your heart warmed at her confession. “I’m happy for you,” you said softly. Then, with a mock-serious expression, you added, “But if he ever says or does anything to hurt you, I will personally send him to the same hell I’m sending Ianthe and Tamlin to.”

Feyre snorted, shaking her head. “Duly noted. I'll tell him that in the next letter. And for the first time in a long time, you saw hope glimmer in her eyes. And felt it growing in your heart.

Taglist: @rcarbo1 @raisam @itsinherited @romantic1stories @nebarious @mystirica-18 @willowpains @xelladarlingx @lucilia9teen @lifetobeareader @hjgdhghoe @carmenadkins78 @ireadsstuff @oiolabomdia

[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.