#shhh pretend you see tags (:

[hextechwonderboy]

Eyes bright with hope, glistening with the promise of progress, Jayce stood still for a moment, allowing himself to absorb the weight of their achievement. Heimerdinger’s caution had felt like an anchor, a force trying to drag them back into the shadows of fear and uncertainty. But Jayce knew—they both knew—that what he and Viktor had created was no mere invention. It was a revolution. Hextech was not something to dread, not when it had the power to reshape the world. They had the chance to unite people, to open doors to possibilities that had once been confined to dreams.

He understood the Professor’s hesitation—his cautious nature, his protective instinct. It was natural, even prudent. But they had poured everything into this: countless sleepless nights, tireless trials, and an unshakable belief that their vision, this vision, would one day transcend the boundaries of the possible.

A frustrated exhale escaped Jayce’s lips as he turned his attention to Viktor, who stood a few paces away. Viktor’s back was to him, shoulders drawn tight, his features obscured by the dim lighting of the lab. Lost in thought, no doubt sifting through a thousand calculations and probabilities, the weight of their work pressing down on him. Jayce watched him for a moment, listening to the soft hum of the machinery around them. The silence between them felt heavy, and in that moment, Jayce’s impatience broke free.

“It’s fine, Viktor. We’ll be ready,” he said, his voice firm, though edged with impatience. He spoke directly to Viktor, even though the other man didn’t look at him.

Jayce closed the gap between them, his footsteps resolute and quick, until he stood just beside his partner. Viktor’s tension was palpable—the subtle clench of his jaw, the faint furrow of his brow. He was a man of immense intellect, of calm calculation, yet in that moment, Jayce could feel something different. A razor-sharp focus, yes, but beneath it, a storm. It wasn’t doubt, but something close—an awareness of the weight of what they were about to unleash. Jayce couldn’t quite place it, but it was there, hovering like a second shadow.

The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken thoughts. Jayce let out a long, quiet sigh, almost a whisper to himself. “Happy Progress Day…” His words hung in the air, a mixture of quiet pride and something deeper—something that couldn’t be put into words. He studied Viktor’s profile, tracing the lines of determination and something else—an intensity that was almost haunted. This was the culmination of everything they had worked for, everything they had sacrificed. And yet, Viktor’s focus, his unyielding drive, told Jayce what he already knew: they were both certain. Both driven by the same fire. Both consumed by the same vision of a future they were about to forge.

@veniremortem

[threehousing]

storm ily please rant about thropes nonsensical worldbuilding and how they fucked up the noble hierarchy by having too many dukes <3

shyd. shyd.

IT MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE AND I'M SO MAD. LISTEN. LISTEN.

So, in the irl historical uses of the european terms (since Fire Emblem uses European terms, that's what I'm referring to), there's a hierachy to noble titles which tends to be pretty similar across the board. The words differ slightly depending on the language, (some of which have the same root somewhere, which is neat) so like, marquis (french) and margrave (anglification of German markgraf) are different terms for similar positions.

So, using the terms fe does, USUALLY IT'S LIKE (and this is a simplification. I'm not an expert asfgk):

sovereign (I'm disregarding the differing positions of king vs emperor vs archduke here, bc its not relevent for 3 houses. obvs they're different irl, but it is irrelevant here)

(sovereign heir)

Duke

Marquis/Margrave - usually used for a noble with land on a border, so worth extra distinguishment. That's especially true of 'margrave' from what I can tell, but 'marquis' did originate from the same use (medieval latin "marca", meaning "borderland/frontier") i like language. ANYWAY.

Count

Viscount

Baron

Lord (as in 'of the Manor')

Now. NOW. There can obviously be multiple people in the same rank, barring sovereign and heir, but. Thropes did this funny thing where they were like: what if we added new nobles not mentioned at all in 3 Houses, with very promient titles that would imply they are high ranking.

Faerghus? So you got Duke Fraldarius - tracks, the Fraldariuses are the Blaiddyd's right hands - and Margrave Gautier - also tracks - implying the Gautiers and Fraldariuses are basicially the highest ranking noble families in Faerghus, apart from the royal family. Makes sense.

But what if we added a new Duke? said Koei Tecmo, Just to fuck with Storm, specifically?

So KT dropped not just one duke - IFAN - who up until now was never mentioned, which. A duke is pretty fucking important. Important enough to BE LABELLED ON THE PRE-EXISTING MAP, I'D SAY. Anyway. But not satisfied with this, they ALSO said hey. Why not just put a marquis in Faerghus? For funsies. A marquis. A title of different linguistic origin to margrave, but the same status? Margrave, as in, the established Margrave Gautier? Whatever, we worked out a fun linguistic thing with the Empire, which I actually love, but it's the principal of the thing.

So there I am, screaming into my pillow, trying desperately to make some semblence of sense out of these goddamn retcons, which is, we all know, a hopeless endeavour. But it bugs me. It bugs me SO MUCH.

NOT TO MENTION, they seemed to have made "Duke" Ifan's territory so, incredibly tiny. Like. A duke you say??? Sure.

They also added just. So many viscounts. So many counts. SO MANY. DEMOTE SOME OF THEM. Seven whole viscounts - four new ones - and five counts - two new ones - while there are only two barons. Demote some of these fuckers for the love of god. The political power balance is all outta whack.

Adrestia and Leicester were also not spared this. Leicester was gifted just. Too many viscounts (WHERE are the lesser lords? in the basement??). And while Adrestia has the most reasonable balance of barons there are still so. many. viscounts. Like who the fuck are the von Fenjas? von Fenja the fuck up.

I'm not even gonna talk about how it makes NO SENSE for Arundel to only be a "Lord" - he's the regent??? Obvs this is a Three Houses thing, not a Thropes thing, but are they telling me he didn't get a fancy title to go with that fancy land and fancy crown. intsys I'm gonna need 3 pages double sided of your thought process there. I know I know, they didn't think it through that thoroughly bc it doesn't actually matter, but what about me? will someone please think of me, left out in the rain, behaving very exceedly not neurotypical about this game??? 😔

[dingdongitmustbelove]

i needddd to inject these men into my stupid bloodstream i can't take it anymore how else am i supposed to deal with these fucking emotions

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Eleven

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 6k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Graphic depiction of domestic violence. This fic contains mature themes. Mention of pregnancy. Nurse!reader, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies. Bun is in pain, goes to a doctor. Dissociation. Lots of despair, fear, anxiety. The 141 reunites. Nightmares. Comfort. Tenderness. Angst. Welcome home.

“Knock knock.”

“Bunny.” Johnny murmurs, lifting an arm, urging you close, a moon to a tide.

“Hi.” You bend, moving into the hug, pressing your face to his neck for a quick second before straightening.

“I miss ye.” You survey him, glancing at the monitor, the brace on his leg and hip, the disconnected fluid line. He’s doing well. You’re so relieved to see it with your own eyes, ribs rattling with a long exhale. Satisfied, you smile, tension bleeding from your spine. 

“Simon says you’re terrorizing your night nurse.”

“Am not. She’s jus’ not gentle, or quiet. Wakes me up.”

“That’s her job.” He scoffs, waving you off. You settle in the chair at his side, and he takes your hand in his, lifting it to his lips, dotting kisses across your knuckles. His affection is freeing, sweet and easy, a warm breeze on a spring day. It overflows your heart with warmth until you think it might spill over, and you go with it, following his lead, even though your better judgement, the girl in the mirror, wails.

“Ye look good. Better. Swellin’ gone down?” He cradles your chin, turning your face from left to right, inspecting with a crystal-clear sapphire gleam.

“Yeah, my shoulder is still sore but… yeah. I feel better.”

“’m glad. Simon keepin’ ye off yer feet all day then?”

“Oh my god.” You laugh. “He keeps telling me to lay down. Or asking if I want to take a nap.” Johnny chuckles.

“Sounds right. He’s a bit o’ a mother hen, that one. He cares though, we both do.”

“I know.” You squeeze his hand. “And I missed you too.”

“He said ye an’ him had a nice chat the other night?” Your cheeks burn. Oh god. Did he… “I’m a wee bit jealous.” He complains, turning his nose up and away in a mock pout, and you roll your eyes.

You laid in bed all night and thought about these moments. Thought about Simon’s mouth on yours, his hand on your ass, squeezing and stroking. You thought about how he tasted, how he smelled, the way he looked at you, like you were a part of their world, a piece of them.

And you thought about Johnny. Johnny alone here, Johnny trapped in the hospital, healing, unable to leave or even get out of bed. How anxious he must be, being separated from his family, how frustrating it is to spend so long trying to get better.

You wanted to give him something. Wanted to make him feel better, see him smile.

Here goes nothing. 

Leaning, standing, you dip into his orbit, lightly bumping your noses together. It takes no time until his good hand is around the back of your neck, crashing your mouth into his, and he breathes you in, holding you steady, tongue and teeth and lips swirling together in a ubiquitous, overwhelming haze. He tastes like summer rain, the feeling in the air before a giant storm, electric and blazing, brilliant glow transferring between the two of you, lightning striking a mountaintop. He nips your bottom lip, heat flooding your stomach, and you pull away slowly, his eyes jeweled and shimmering, brilliantly blue.

“Bunny,” You try to swallow a quiet giggle and fail. “I’ll have to tell ye I’m jealous more often.”

“Don’t take advantage.” You playfully scold.

“Me? Take advantage?” He pretends to be outraged, voice piquing higher, and you laugh again. “How can I take advantage when ‘m the one stuck here in this bed while ye two are at home, playin’ house, takin’ couch naps and gettin’ butt rubs. No one cares about Johnny, no-“

“Shhh.” You press your lips to his, silencing him, remaining in the kiss that’s long and soft and saccharine. He sneaks his tongue back between your teeth, mischievous and wild, every bit the man you’re drawn to, an attraction you can’t fight.

“Well.” Simon clears his throat from the doorway, brows raised, mask snug. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” You don’t know why, but you fly backwards, nearly stumbling, cheeks on fire. You feel like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t, and that feeling, the pit in the bottom of your stomach, is all too reminiscent.

It frightens you.

“Whoa, hey.” Johnny tries to snag a finger around your wrist, but you step out of the way.

“It’s alright.” Simon moves inside fully, clicking the door shut behind him. “You’re not in trouble. Nothing is wrong, I was just kidding. That’s my fault.” You shake your head.

He’s not mad. Johnny is fine. Everything is fine. 

You’re overreacting. You’re making a mess of this. 

You shouldn’t even be doing this in the first place. What’re you doing? Who are you kidding? 

“I’m s-sorry.” You stammer, hands wringing together anxiously.

“Ye dinnae have anything to be sorry about.” Johnny protests, still trying to reach for you.

Get it together. You have to get it together. 

You close your eyes.

Deep breath. In and out. You can do it. Just breathe. 

It works. You’re steadier, and you meet their watchful gazes as your eyes open.  

“You okay?” Simon murmurs, moving very slowly to the other side of the bed where you’re standing, like he’s approaching a spooked, scared, wild animal.

“Yeah. Sorry. Just… had a moment. I’m fine.” Not entirely true, but that’s alright. You feel a little unsteady, a little unnerved, and Johnny frowns.

“Ye should sit.”

“I’m fine.”

“Bunny, please. For me?” He bats his eyelashes, and you want to groan.

But you lower yourself in the chair all the same.

Quiet falls over the room. It’s awkward and stiff, and you curse yourself for ruining the moment.

“Hey.” Simon soothes, reading your mind. “Hey, you’re alright. Everything is fine.” You nod, unsettled. He squeezes your good shoulder and dips past you, leaning to press a gentle kiss to Johnny’s brow, before dotting his nose and pushing their lips together. Their kiss is long, languid touch melting away to expose their connection, trust and love on full display. Delicate and rare, their affection makes your heart flutter, pulchritudinous whispers given to one another as Simon holds Johnny’s hand, stroking a familiar pattern into his skin, something similar to the way he touches you. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Wish they’d let me out of this bloody bed.” Johnny grumbles. You clear your throat.

“They’re waiting on your wrist. Once your wrist can support your weight on crutches, then you’ll be able to start PT and be released.”

“Ach. I know.” He’s frustrated, it’s clear. You know it’s not easy, being here, being separated, stuck in a hospital.

“It won’t be too long.” You try to reassure him, and he nods, still a little forlorn. “Here,” you stand with a burst of confidence, knocking his arm with the back of your hand as a direction, “scooch over.”

His eyes light. Simon laughs.

You fold yourself onto the edge of the bed, turned on your side, curled along where he’s the least banged up, careful of the sensitive graft lurking beneath his hospital gown.

“There. That better?” His good arm wraps around you carefully, settling on your ribs, a thumb tracing the wrinkle of your shirt.

“Aye, much better.” Your knees are bent, and cool air ghosts over your lower back, where your shirt has ridden up and exposed your skin. You shiver.

“Cold?” Simon murmurs, and you nod. He’s close, hovering, pulling a blanket up from the end of the bed to cover both you and Johnny. He tucks it around the two of you carefully and leans forward, pulling his mask down again to brush his lips across Johnny’s brow.

You watch in a daze. They don’t speak, but there’s something happening between them, something being said in their eyes as Simon holds his face briefly, and Johnny nods.

They both look to you, your bottom lip caught between teeth.

“Want one too?” Simon hums, cupping the back of your head. “Here.” He kisses you, lingering in it, heat of his naked mouth still a shock to your system.

Johnny is beaming, and cuddles you as close as possible, cheek resting atop your forehead.

They make you dizzy. All of it feels like some kind of dream, a world impossible, a fantasy suddenly turned real life. You’re on the verge of spinning out of control inside it, losing yourself.

It doesn’t help that everything you’ve done over these last few years, this identity, this life, the work that went into hiding and planning and saving and scraping, trying to stay unseen and unnoticed-

Was all for nothing.

“Bunny?” Johnny whispers, bringing you back to them. Simon is settled in the recliner, the same one from the ICU room, but his arm is stretched past your head, fingers playing idly in Johnny’s very long mohawk.

“Sorry. I’m here.”

“Where did ye go?” He tightens his hold, and you snuggle in closer, hiding away from everything bearing down on you, the pain and the panic and the doubt. You hide your face from it, refuse to acknowledge it, desperately trying to stay in this moment, hoping to just be… be here with them. In the sun.

“Nowhere.”  

A day passes. Then another, and another, and another. Your face nearly looks normal, puffiness and swelling practically gone, and your neck aches less and less with each passing day.

Your shoulder, on the other hand, is a problem.

It never stops hurting. You struggle to get your arm through your shirts, can barely lift it, can't pick anything up, and it’s so sore, tender, and stiff, like it’s been dislocated or worse, broken. You’re worried, worried about going back to work without a full range of motion, worried about being in pain.

Worried about being even more permanently damaged than you already are.

Just another tally mark. Just another thing you must live with now, a permanent remnant of him, a forever reminder of just how foolish you really are.

You’re weak. You’re stupid. You’re damaged. 

The pain breaks you down. It prevents you from sleeping, keeps you twisting and turning through a roil of dark dreams. It depresses you, sinks its teeth into your flesh and gnaws on the pieces touched by the sun, the parts of your heart still beating, somehow.

It reminds you of everything you’re desperate to forget.

It all comes crashing down one morning. The despair. The helpless feeling brewing in your stomach. The loneliness. It keeps you there, in bed, in agony, past breakfast.

It keeps you there, until you hear the creak of the stairs, a firm knock.

“I’m coming in.” Simon advises, trying the door, cracking it enough to stick his head through.

You’re crumpled in the middle of the mattress, pillows strewn about from trying to find a comfortable position, tears already dried. Your shoulder hurts so bad, and you don’t know why, don’t know why it’s not getting better, not healing.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” He sits at your side, hand resting on your hip, inspecting the worry lines, the frown tugging at your lips. “What’s going on?” Guilt swamps you.

“It’s nothing, my shoulder just kept me up, so I’m a little tired. That’s all.” You paste on your work smile, forced and believable, but he only shakes his head.

“Don’t do that.” He thumbs your brow. “I think you should see a doctor.”

“N-no.” You can’t. He doesn’t understand. They’ll want to take x-rays. X-rays lead to questions. 

He never takes you at face value. Always pushing. Always digging, looking you over. “Why not?”

“It’s… it’s not necessary. I’m fine, it’s probably just a deep bruise.”

“You’d be experiencing less pain if that was the case.” You raise an eyebrow. He shrugs. “I know a little bit. We all have basic medic training, and I’ve been reading up, for when Johnny gets home.” He pats your hip. “Let’s make you an appointment.” You shake your head.

“No!” It’s too sharp, too insistent, and he freezes. You wince. “I’m sorry. It’s just-“

“You can’t go to a doctor.” He finishes, like he knows. “Tell me why, sweetheart.” You take a shaky breath.

You can’t. You shouldn’t. 

Sunlight taps against the iron that’s encrusted around your heart. It knocks, wanting to be let in. It searches for weakness, places of opportunity, slivers of space where it can find its way.

Your mouth starts moving before you give it permission, like it knows this is where you’re headed, no matter how hard you fight, no matter how deeply the survivor’s logic is ingrained in your brain.

“It… it’s not safe.”

“It creates a trail.” He surmises, and you nod. For a wild moment, you wonder if he’s a plant. If they’re a trap, designed to get you to lower your guard, fabricated to encourage you to trust, to love, just so the jaws of Philip’s cruelty can close around you at the most opportune moment.

They wouldn’t. They’re not. You’re being ridiculous. You’re paranoid. 

“We’ll make it under my name. Our primary is service member focused, and very discreet. You’ll be safe.” He makes it hard to argue, even though you want to. You should.

“I- I don’t know.”

“I can’t stand to see you in pain like this.” He rebukes, and then smiles softly, eyes lighting up. “Besides, I’m going to need your help. Johnny’s coming home on Friday.”

“He is?” You push upward. “Really?”

“Really.” He’s beaming, radiant sunshine spilling from his lips, and it makes you emotional, seeing him so happy, so weightless. “He passed a strength test on his wrist this morning. He needs a few days of PT in hospital, and then he can do it outpatient. His care team has signed off, and he’s ready.”

“Oh my god, that’s great!”

“It is. But I want both of you on the mend, not just one. Please.” It doesn’t take much more for you to concede, unable to find an excuse or a good enough reason, one he’s not able to combat.

“Alright, I guess.”

“Simon. Good to see you.” The doctor extends his hand and Simon shakes it readily, keeping his body positioned between you and the physician, one hand still on your knee.

He’s had a hand on you for the last half hour. You’ve been rattling on the exam table, shifting and fretful, disquieted energy spilling forth since he coaxed you into the car this morning.

“Dr. Fitch.”

“This is my patient?” He motions to you, and Simon stands to the side, concentrating, eyes focused above the mask. You give your name, and the provider repeats it with a warm smile.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Fitch.” You raise your good arm to shake his hand, and he pulls the rolling stool underneath him, taking a seat opposite Simon at your knee.

A warm palm flexes at your lower back. It’s soothing, comforting.  

I’m here, it says. You’re safe.

“Simon says you’ve been having some shoulder pain?”

“Yeah, I had… I had an injury. Thought there was some soft tissue damage, maybe some minor bruising, but the pain is too persistent.”

“Mind if I take a look?” He points to the side you’re clearly favoring.

“Sure.” It’s not comfortable, to have another man’s hands on you outside of your job. There’s no trust there, no familiarity like there is with Simon and Johnny, and your body knows it, practically vibrating as he walks his fingers up your scapula. Simon stays close, still with a hand at your back, watching intently.

Dr Fitch holds your elbow, and slowly lifts your arm until you’re telling him to stop, pins and needles radiating through your shoulder and up your neck.

“I think we need an x-ray so we can really see what’s going on.” Your fingers curl, nails digging into your palm. 

Fuck.  

“I… I think I just need a sling, or an immobilizer for a few weeks. Give it some time to heal.” You try to protest, but he shakes his head.

“I can’t be sure of any of that, without an x-ray.” Oh god. You think you might throw up.

He’s right, though. You know he’s right. You know no good provider in their right mind would sign off on a treatment plan without knowing the extent of an injury. He’s not going to let you dictate what you need.

“Bun.” Simon murmurs, and you blow out a rough breath.

“Okay, fine.”

Dr. Fitch is grim when he reappears almost an hour later, throwing the films up for both you and Simon to see.

You spot what’s soured him immediately, and there’s a sharp intake of breath behind you, the tell-tale sign of Simon noticing it too.

“This side of your body has seen a lot of trauma.” The doctor says gently. He’s not unkind, but still clinical. The kind of provider you’d like you work with, you think. “These old injuries, your clavicle, acromion, even this break in your ulna, make your scapula a very delicate part of your body. I think an MRI would show a fair amount of cartilage damage in these areas.” He motions around your joint, and you close your eyes.

You can’t do this. 

If Dr. Fitch sees your unease or panic, he pushes past it. “You have a rotator cuff tear. The good news is, it’s not surgical. I recommend physical therapy for injuries like these, along with activity modification and lots of rest. I want to do a corticosteroid injection for your pain as well. Today, if you’d like. You’ll need to rest your arm for twenty-four hours afterwards, make sure you’re not lifting anything or moving it…” He continues, but you lose track, lose focus, staring at the vinyl tile, weird grey and pink and green patterns all worked together to make some of the ugliest floor you’ve ever seen.

You zone out. Lose yourself. The films mock you, their ugly, horrific images hanging you out to dry, showcasing the truth, the reminders you’ll never be able to escape.

The pieces of you, changed permanently.

It’s hard to look at. Hard to think of.

You’d rather be considering survival. Counting your cash and researching new places to live. New communities to disappear inside, a new life to assume.

It’s easier to run.

You can’t look at Simon. Can't bear the shame. Can't believe he's seeing this, your nightmares on display. 

You keep your eyes fixed on the wall.

The girl in the mirror is falling apart. She despises being confronted with your failings, your weakness, the results of your stupidity.

It’s far less common now, these mistakes. These slip ups.

But before… before… they indulged Philip in a beautiful game of cat and mouse. You made it fun, made it exciting. A wolf with his prey. Playing with his food before he eats. Before he strings it up and breaks its collarbone because he likes to hear it scream.

Simon is talking to the provider, asking questions, receiving answers. You can barely hear him. You’re underwater.

The only thing that tethers you to the earth is the hand on your back, the warm, gentle, broad, grounding pressure.

There’s more conversation, and then Dr. Fitch is vacating the room.

Is it time to go? 

You try to stand on autopilot, but Simon holds you steady.

“We’re going to do the steroid, for your pain.” He drifts into your line of sight, pulling the mask down. “Bunny, look at me.”

When you can’t, he follows your gaze.

The films come off the wall within the next second, ripped down by the long reach of his arm.

Gone. 

“I have to go.” You whisper.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to get this injection, and then I’m going to take you home and put you to bed.”

He doesn’t understand your meaning. 

Or maybe he does. 

Home. The word rings in your ears like a punch. It’s like you’ve been hit with it, burned with it.

Home. 

He’s not forceful, but you still feel the pressure, the insistence. You expect to rail against him. To cower.

Instead, you slip inside it. Allow him to tell you what to do, to make the decision. You fall easily into him, and he holds your hand through it all, while the injection site is swabbed, when the needle goes in. He holds your hand out to the car, holds your hand as he buckles you in. He holds your hand as he tucks you into a bed larger and softer than the one you've been sleeping in. It smells like him and Johnny, soft sheets and pillows piled around you like a wall, false sense of security building every time you twitch, testing where is he is, if he’s left yet.

The last thing you feel before you drift off to sleep is your hand, still in his.

You don't know how long you sleep. You sail in the darkness, navigating turbulent seas, waking every now and then, sometimes alone... sometimes not. 

The baby monitor blinks pale green, little circle fuzzy on the edge of your vision, appearing and disappearing throughout the day. 

Sometimes the bed is warm. Sometimes it's not. 

When it is, you seek him out on instinct, trying to crawl inside his ribs, frantic with your effort to hide, to run. He holds you through it, rocks you gently, tells you you're safe, says you don't have to be afraid anymore, he's here now. He'll take care of you. 

There's a rope around your ankle, tied too tight, tethered to the ocean floor. It drags you down, rips you away from him, fills your lungs and silences you. 

You didn't make it. 

All you can see behind closed lids is those films. All you can feel is the phantom ache in your limbs, the remnants of a shadow, still living and breathing inside of you. 

The girl in the mirror is silent. Nothing to say for once in her life, she weeps like her chest is being carved open, sobs and screams pouring out in a flood. 

I know you'll be here when I get back, won't you?

The house is vibrant today.

Lou has been here, stocking the fridge, precooking some meals, and her husband is helping Simon rearrange the living room, moving pieces of the couch to be more accessible, laughing back and forth quietly. Occasionally, he stops into the kitchen where you’re seated next to Pen in her highchair, checking in, but never encroaching.

He doesn’t get too close, right now. You’re still underwater somewhere, lost in a current. You’re here, but not really, silently drifting like a ghost, watching and waiting for something or someone to shake you out of it.

Simon hasn’t yet, but he’s watching. Always.

He’s intentionally careful, loud. Announcing himself everywhere he goes in the house, telling you everything he’s doing.

You didn’t understand why at first. Didn’t realize you hadn’t spoken in eight hours, and then ten, then twelve.

Trapped in a tomb of yourself, locked away with the girl in the mirror.

Guilt burns like a wildfire.

This should be a happy time. A wonderful time. 

But all you’re doing is making a mess of their life.  

Lou, thankfully, doesn’t push you either. She’s content to let you sit there, next to Pen. She keeps an eye out, glancing over at you occasionally, but your placating smiles seem to satisfy her.

Simon steps in front of the counter, ducking his head down to catch your eyes. “I’m going to pick Johnny up.” Somewhere, in the pits of hell, excitement blooms. Happiness tries to sprout. “Do you want to come?” Definitely not. They’ll certainly clap him out, and there’s no way you can be there for that. 

“No, I’m… okay.”

“Okay. Penny is coming with me, but John and Lou are staying here. Kyle is coming by. If Johnny’s feeling up to it, I’m hoping to do dinner all together.” Acid is tossed around, tempestuous in your stomach. Lou smiles around his side.

“Want to watch something while we wait?”

“Sure.” She disappears down the hall, saying something to John, and Simon slowly pulls Pen from her chair, kissing her cheek and nose before cradling her to his chest. She’s not a small baby, but in his hold, she’s tiny, soft and delicate, content in her dad’s arms, still a little sleepy from her afternoon nap. 

“We’ll be back soon.” He whispers, turning to go.

Your hand whips forward instinctively, out of control.

It latches onto his.

“Simon. I’m… I’m sorry.” You’re sorry you’re ruining everything. You’re sorry you’re fucked up beyond belief, you’re sorry he had to see all that in the doctor’s office, you’re sorry, you’re sorry, you’re sorry. 

He squeezes. “Shhh, hey. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He shifts, still holding Penny, but stooping down to crouch at your knees, his own popping with effort. “It’s okay, if you have to go somewhere else for a little while up there, as long as you're not lost in it.” He motions to your head. “Nothing has changed. We’re still right here, everything is alright. Huh, Penny girl?” He bounces her, and she shrieks out a giggle, reaching for his face. He kisses her hands like he’s trying to eat them, rumble in his voice making her squeal, and he catches your faint smile. “There she is.” He kisses your forehead. “We’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

You hear Johnny before you see him.

There’s a scrape of crutches, his voice animated, talking to his baby, Penny giggling wildly outside on the walk. Lou and John exchange a comfortable smile, and she manages to get the door open before Simon can get his key in the lock.

“Welcome home!” She exclaims, and Penny squeaks, clapping excitedly. She’s wriggly, wanting to get down immediately upon crossing the threshold, but Simon holds her firm, turned around so Lou can snap their picture.

“Ach, Price, can ye do somethin’-“ Johnny laments, but the captain only laughs and looks on.

“Hey! Come on, you’ll want this, later. I promise. Look over here.” They’re picture perfect, Penny cradled between them, Johnny’s hair moved out of his face, his posture a little slouched because of his hip and leg. His head rests on Simon’s shoulder, an arm stretched across his middle, right under Penny, who glows from her perch, the center of attention.

An ache unfurls in the middle of your chest, a sore spot, growing, spreading through your body.

They’re so lovely, it hurts. This moment is beautiful, a homecoming, a story of survival and perseverance. Johnny’s strength and determination. Doing something you know a lot of people initially doubted.  

The dark spot of pain passes, fleeting.

Johnny’s eyes find yours. “Ye goin’ make me hobble all the way over there?” He teases, and you shake your head.

The two of you can only give half hugs, but you make it work, holding onto him, fingers fisted in the back of his shirt.

“Welcome home.” You whisper in his ear, and he pulls away, notching his forehead against yours. His eyes glitter, heavy, trembling breath filtering through his nose, and he kisses you slowly, so painfully slowly it’s like you’re the only one in the entire house, in the whole world.

“You too, bunny.”

Dinner is lively. Kyle arrives shortly before it’s time to sit down, greetings and warm wishes passed around as everyone gets settled, Penny positioned in highchair between the guys with mashed potatoes and peas already scooped onto her tray. Johnny’s on your left, with Lou on your right, and Simon sits at the head of the table, across from who you realize now, is his old, or kind of still, boss. 

He looks perfect there, half turned towards Pen and Johnny, radiantly smiling at his partner and daughter, trying again and again to catch your eye. Johnny's knee stays steady against yours, fingertips occasionally brushing your thigh, and the two of them try to draw you in, pull you towards them, over and over. 

Conversation flows easily. They’re all talking, laughing, swapping stories, poking at one another. Kyle tells you about a time he fell out of a helicopter, and they all tease Johnny about nearly dying this time, or a different time, you can’t be too sure.

“Ye jus’ wish ye had the natural ability I do.” He sniffs, and Kyle chortles, struggling to swallow his food.

“I’d probably be dead, mate.”

“’Cause ye cannae handle it!” He retorts, and Simon laughs, causing Penny to giggle too, and then the entire table erupts in it, attention redirected, cooing at the adorable girl with mashed potatoes smeared on her face. Johnny and Simon fuss over her, a perfect family in unison. 

There’s a whining, buzzing noise in the back of your head. It’s an off-key tenor, annoying and coarse, like the snag of rough skin texture against a soft sweater.

What are you doing here? 

The world, this room, these people, spin and spiral around you. Talking, laughing, loving. Making connections with each other, feeling the warmth of love and friendship, of happiness.

The buzzing gets louder.

You’re vaguely in it now, still seated but not here, not anywhere. You’re drifting, falling away, slipping behind walls and layers, hiding.

The girl in the mirror approves.

What makes you think you have any right to be here? What makes you think you could ever possibly belong here? With them? With their friends? Their family? 

You’re an intruder. 

You’re risking their safety. You’re making a mistake. 

Lou boasts a sharp laugh, and you nearly flinch.

You don’t belong here. You’re supposed to be alone. It was supposed to be okay, to be alone.

You’re selfish.

Simon reaches for Johnny’s hand, stretching across Penny’s spot, eyes heavy with love. There’s so much in his expression alone, dedication, devotion, borderline obsession bleeding through, and he holds Johnny like he’s holding his lifeline.

You’ll never be loved like that, known like that, cherished and protected… like that. 

And why should you be? 

You’re standing before you announce it, trying to hold yourself together. Both guys look to you, Simon’s expression changing from amusement and love to worry and concern, while Johnny mirrors it, and tries to grab your hand.

“Ye alright?”

“Bun?”

“I’m fine, just… uh. My stomach.” You lie, motioning away from the table, like it makes any sense. You excuse yourself quickly, apologizing, and practically run up the stairs.

The guest bathroom door locks, and you slide down against the tub, slumping over to rest your cheek on cold tile. “Fuck.” You whisper, rubbing at your cheeks. What is wrong with you?

You lay there long enough that your shoulder starts to hurt. Everything aches, your heart too, and wipe your cheeks over and over, trying to regain control of a sinking ship.

God, you really, really hope they aren’t mad you bailed. 

The bed is your only option, your only salvation, and you sink into without fuss, burying yourself beneath a pile of blankets, hiding yourself away from the world.

At least when you sleep, you can’t think.

At least when you sleep, you can’t feel.

“Philip, please.” 

“You made a fucking fool of me tonight.” He grips your upper arm so tight it feels like he’s cutting into your flesh, branding you, burning you down to the bone. 

“No, I- I wasn’t trying to, I swear.” 

“I think you were, spitfire. I think you wanted to see me sweat, didn’t you? Wanted to play a little game, huh?” 

“No!” you’re crying, chest heaving with giant sobs, and his fist tightens in your hair, dragging you down to the ground. “No, Philip, stop. Stop!” 

“Shut up.” You’re crawling on your knees, trying to keep pace, trying to stay in stride with him as he tugs, practically pulling you down the hallway to the bedroom. 

Once he gets there, he jerks you upwards. 

The hardwood floor is the next thing you see as your face crashes into it. 

“S-stop.” You’re barely audible, buried in sobs. He mocks you. 

“Stoooop, babe. Stop please.” Your arms cover your head, trying to protect your delicate bones there, your skull, your nose, your cheeks. 

His foot rears back. 

The world goes cold. 

“NO!” you jerk your knees up to your chest, rolling away. “No! I’m pregnant!” 

You think he’ll be happy. You think he’ll be pleased. 

Instead, it’s raw, concentrated fury you see lining his face, lightning and thunder gathering in his eyes. 

“You’re what?”

You come to trembling, coated in a cold sweat.

It’s okay. He’s not here. He’s not. You’re safe. 

You clasp a hand over your mouth to ward off the volume of the sob, nausea rising until you’re almost gagging.

It’s okay. 

You can do this. Get it together. 

Time ticks away, but the agony of your memory, your nightmare, doesn’t fade. It settles in your bones like a sickness, infecting your mind and heart, keeping you from closing your eyes.

You can’t go back there. Not in real life. Not in your dreams. Not ever.

You would die before that happened.

Johnny and Simon sleep down the hall. You wonder if they’re wrapped up together, if Johnny is comfortable, if their room is cozy and homey, bed heavenly and full of love.

You could… 

No. 

The clock on your phone reads three in the morning. You feel like you haven’t slept at all, but every time you try to close your eyes, dread spreads, tenebrous and sticky, clinging to every synapse in your logical brain.

You eye the door.

You could… 

Should you? Would they be mad? Would they welcome you? Would they even answer?

You don’t know how you convince yourself to do it, to drag your weak will down the hall and knock on their door, but you do. You’re a child the whole way, padding up to a parent’s room in the middle of the night, looking for salvation and sanctuary, desperate for comfort.

It takes almost no time after your timid little rap for the door to swing wide, Simon standing behind it, little lamp flicked on where Johnny is half sitting up, mostly still asleep, rubbing his eyes.

“Hi.” You whisper, distracted by Simon’s naked chest. He’s wearing sweatpants, but they’re slung low on his hips, soft tummy with wispy light brown hair peeking out above the drawstring. You think you’re staring, and you force a blink, trying to appear normal.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing, I just… I had a nightmare and…I… I can’t…” the rest doesn’t come out, laying heavy on your tongue, trying to organize itself so it doesn’t seem so intrusive, or weak.

He doesn’t make you feel bad. Or guilty. He doesn’t even ask, he just steps aside, motioning to bed, clicking the door shut behind him.

“Take the middle.” He whispers, and you crawl across the expanse, timidly smiling at Johnny, who’s still yawning. He’s got his bad leg and hip set up on a bunch of pillows, and the spot next to him is still warm.

“Hey pretty girl.”

“Hi.” He pats the empty space, shoving the blankets down to the best of his ability to let you get underneath them.

“Bad dream?” He drawls, slow and sleepy.

“Yeah.”

“C’mere.” He tries to tug you closer, but Simon scolds him softly.

“Johnny, easy. Your graft.” He turns, sliding, encouraging you to settle on your side, with him at your back. “There we go. That’s better, hm?” It is better. So much better. Warm and safe. Blocked in on either side by them, your hand resting on Johnny’s sternum, grounding yourself with the rise and fall of his breathing, Simon nestling you into his chest, heavy arm slung across your ribs to hold Johnny’s hand.

It's so nice, tucked between them like you belong there, things start to spiral a little bit, doubt and worry fueling a cycle of second guessing. You shift restlessly, and Simon rubs your hip, soothing whatever he senses amiss back to neutral, lips humming just above your ear. “Close your eyes, little bunny. We’re here. You’re safe.”

[lewisvinga]

doctor! doctor! | lando norris x fem! reader x oscar piastri !

summary; the average life of a med student dating not one, but two f1 drivers

fc; various girls on pinterest

warnings; cursing, suggestive comment

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1

notes; requested ! as a nursing major, i <3 anything to do w the reader being in the medical field ! also didn’t realize for the messages lando is just ‘lando’ so pretend his contact is ‘lan<33’😭😭😭

masterlist !

yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; my boys sending me selfies so i don’t lose my mind today 🧡🧡] [caption 2; reason why i’m losing my mind; my first med school exam🤓]

landonorris replied to your story !

landonorris u literally graduated top of ur class, u can do this 🧡🧡🧡

yourusername why’d i have to be so passionate abt this career 😔

landonorris bc ur super duper smart !

landonorris osc and i miss you!! ( he won’t admit it but he’s sad you’re not w us😒 )

yourusername i miss my boys too ☹️ ( he does this every time )

landonorris he wants to act so cool 🙄🙄

yourusername well tell him spring break is in 2 months and i’ll be able to attend at least one (1) race this semester 😕

landonorris as much as i wish you can see us more often, you gotta go help save lives !

yourusername and i gotta study so i can go save lives !😣

landonorris: good luck ! liked by yourusername !

oscarpiastri replied

oscarpiastri that latte looks sick😯

yourusername stfu i know ur sad that i’m missing so many races this season😒

oscarpiastri lando told you ?

yourusername yes u don’t have to act all cool or whatvr 🙄

yourusername my spring break is in 2 months, i’ll be able to go to a race then !😁

oscarpiastri 2 months TOO LONG💔

oscarpiastri and go study u have an exam in 3 days 🙄🙄

yourusername STOP I’M TRYING TO AVOID IT

yourusername nvm just remembered i dont know anything, i’ll facetime u and lan later? okay???

oscarpiastri already waiting !

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others !

yourusername: a week filled with clinicals, studying, cheering for my favorite boys, and more studying !

tagged; yourbestfriend, friendone, friendtwo, oscarpiastri, landonorris

landonorris: oscarpiastri look at our girl studying to be a future life saver 🥹🥹

oscarpiastri: soooo smart, future dr. l/n🧡

yourusername: i love & miss you both sm☹️

landonorris: doctor! doctor! i’m injured and i need help!

yourusername: not a doctor yet lan

landonorris: shhh play along

oscarpiastri: don’t he’s being mean to me

landonorris: LIAR!!

oscarpiastri: why’d u get black coffee u never do

yourusername: bold of u to assume i didn’t get a latte after trying yourbestfriend americano

yourbestfriend: you’re studying to be a DOCTOR, how do u not like black coffee

yourbestfriend: dawg who let us study to be doctors 😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣

yourusername: LMFAOOO

friendone: stay healthy guys , ur future doctors are currently making tiktoks instead of studying

friendtwo: like studying wasn’t making u lose ur mind too !!

username: y/n studying to be a doctor is so sick

username: ur the coolest wag

username: bro i’m a nursing student and i’m dyinggggg idk how u do med school

yourusername: me neither tbh

username: imagine studying to be a DOCTOR and BOTH of ur bfs are f1 drivers, that’s actually insane

username: i wanna be u

yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; my loves 🧡always cheering for you both 🫂🧡] [caption 2; time for clinicals 😣 ( will watch race highlights after sigh )]

yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; finally in my happy place after weeks and weeks of studying and clinicals 🤍🤍] [caption 2; my pretty boys 🫶 can’t wait to be a doctor and see them in the er from doing stupid shit🧡🧡🧡 ( stop jumping on the bed before one of you hurt your head PLEASE) ]

[rubyreduji]

omega envy — lc

summary: chan goes into rut while you two are wrestling and you offer to help him out

tags: smut (minors dni!), a/b/o dynamics, alpha!chan, beta!reader warnings: cringe omegaverse, play wrestling, reader is implied smaller than chan, rough play, explicit unprotected sex, oral (f. rec), fingering, (f. rec), breeding kink wc: 3.2k an: i made a post abt writing an a/b/o story months ago and i told mika i’d write one for her so mika this is for you (tbh i dont even know if ur still interested in this/remember but shhh)

Chan’s restless as you two sit on the couch, attempting to watch a movie that he picked out. You reach over for the remote and pause the movie before turning to Chan.

“What is your problem?”

He stops fidgeting and turns to you, caught off guard. His eyes are wide and he looks like a puppy. “What?”

“Sit still,” you tell him. “You’ve been jittery for the past hour.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he mutters. He turns away from you, pretending like he’s watching the movie again, but you can still see the way his fingers tap against his thighs and the slight bounce of his leg as he taps his heel up and down.

You’re not too annoyed by it, Chan has always been a restless body, but it seems to be even worse than usual. You think about what the other pack alphas would do if they were here right now. Mingyu and Cheol are pretty restless too and they often like to go to the gym to release some tension. You can’t exactly just drag Chan to the gym right now, but you can think of a couple other ways to get his jitters out.

You smirk to yourself before launching yourself across the couch at Chan, tackling him against the cushions. He lets out a yelp that quickly turns into a growl. He doesn’t question you, his instincts taking over as he grabs at you, trying to pin you back.

This is your favorite part about being a beta. The ability to blend well with both the alphas and omegas while still being your own thing. You can cuddle with the pack omegas while they’re in pre-heat or you can wrestle with the alpha when they get too rowdy.

Chan quickly flips you two around, so your back is against the couch as he hovers over you. You’re held down for only a second before you roll both of your bodies off the couch and onto the floor. You know that it’s probably a bit childish to be rolling on the floor, play fighting like you’re still pups, but it’s clear Chan needs this and you don’t mind indulging in some fun every once in a while. 

You can sense Chan’s scent getting thicker as he doubles his efforts, doing his best to overpower you. You’ve always liked the youngest alpha’s scent, a mix of spices like they’re being mortar and pestled right next to you. That’s one thing you’ve always been jealous of being a beta. You like not having to go through a heat or be so controlled by your instincts, but you always wished you had a strong scent. That your pack could better sense your emotions without having to say a word. Chan has always sworn you do have a scent, but you know it’s nothing like the one he has.

You’re not sure how but someone you and Chan are now completely on the other side of the room from the couch. Chan’s got his arms wrapped around your waist as you push at his head, your knee pushing against his stomach to get him off you.

Chan just barely loosens his grip on you, and you take the opportunity to pull yourself free, standing up quickly to regain some composure. Chan scrambles to his feet as well and you’re quickly throwing yourself at him again.

It’s clear that Chan is stronger than you, not only due to his size but also his orientation. That’s not going to stop you from trying to overtake him. You jump on his back, wrapping your legs around his waist as you hook your elbow around his neck, half choking him. Chan claws at your arm, trying to throw you off.

You’re stubborn though and only budge when Chan slams his back down onto the couch, crushing his weight on top of you. You dig your heels into his stomach and Chan squirms in your grip. You both eventually let up and Chan quickly spins his body around so he’s on top of you again. You reach up to grab him but his reflexes are quicker, slapping your hands out of the way so he can pin your shoulders down against the couch, the weight of his body heavy on top of your hips. You wiggle your hips though, trying to buck him off. You reach up and jab at his sides, forcing him to fall back off you.

You try to get up to try and push Chan down, but he gets the upper hand once more. He picks you up only to throw you back down onto the couch. You grab at him, pulling him closer, ready to throw both of you off the couch like you did earlier. Chan doesn’t allow though, holding you down so you can’t move at all. He stares down at you with a fire in his eyes.

And then you feel it. The distinguishable press of something hard against your thigh. Chan lets out a low groan and his hips rut forwards against your thigh even more, his strong scent suffocating your nostrils and throat.

“C-chan,” you gasp out. This seems to wake the boy up from the daze he was in and he quickly reels back from you, falling off the couch and onto the floor.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his face quickly turning red. “I-”

You wrinkle your nose up at the way his scent turns sour, yet still tinged with arousal. You stare down at him on the floor, allowing your eyes to flick down to his crotch for only a second. His sweatpants protrude out, his hardened cock lying beneath the fabric.

You sniff the air once more, your mouth forming a small ‘O’ shape. “Are you…in pre-rut?”

Chan whimpers a bit, looking away from your piercing gaze. “I don’t know. I thought I still had another two weeks, but you know how irregular it can be for me. I- maybe you should go.”

“Are you sure?” You find yourself asking. You’ve never been a rut partner for anyone in your pack before. You’ve helped some of the omegas out before, but never an alpha. Not that you’d be opposed, especially if it was Chan.

“I mean, I think you’re right so like, it would be best if you weren’t here when I you know…succumb to the urges.” Chan shifts where he’s sitting, his hips lifting off the floor for a moment, exaggerating his bulge. You can see how he’s twitching to shove his hands down his pants.

“And what if I want to be here when you ‘succumb to the urges’?”

“Wh-what?” The sour scent in Chan’s smell fully disperses, the smell of his arousal increasing tenfold.

“Let me help you Channie,” you tell him softly, sinking to the floor next to him. “I know I’m not an omega, but betas can still be great rut partners. You can tell me fuck off you really want me to, but I know it will feel better if I’m here. I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

“Shut up,” Chan grits out.

You’re a bit taken back. “Excuse me?”

“I said, shut up. If you keep talking like that I’m gonna fucking mount you.”

“And what if I want you to?”

That’s all it takes for Chan’s resolve to break. He lunges at you, pushing you so you fall back onto the floor. Chan climbs over you so his body covers yours. His nose is at your neck, biting and licking and sniffing all over.

Chan whines. “You smell so good, jagiya.” His hands grip your hips, holding you down.

The feeling of Chan’s mouth all over your bare skin as you wriggle under him, your panties quickly dampening.

As much as you love being a beta, when you presented you had one mortifying thought that you’ve never shared with anyone. You hated that you didn’t present as an omega, because that meant you weren’t able to mate with Chan. You get embarrassed whenever you think about that thought, but it comes to your mind again now as Chan ravages you. If only younger you could see you now.

Chan paws at your shirt, desperate to reveal even more skin. You help put him out of his misery, tugging the article of clothing over your head. Automatically Chan’s mouth lowers, licking over your chest, kissing right above your breasts.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Chan mutters, barely lifting his mouth off of you. “You don’t even know.”

“But I’m not-”

“An omega? I don’t care. You’re you and that’s all I need.”

Fuck. Chan’s words send goosebumps down your arms. God, you need him horrendously.

“Bedroom,” is all you can choke out. Chan picks you up and throws you over his shoulder before carrying you to his bedroom. He throws you onto the bed before shucking his own shirt off.

You’ve seen Chan shirtless plenty of times, but you’ll never not drool a little when you see his nicely formed torso. He’s got the typical alpha physique with a thick chest and rows of abs to spare.

“I’m going to fucking destroy you,” Chan growls, low and primal, making the obsessive need for Lee Chan grow under your skin. Despite your hesitations when you first presented, you’re glad you’re a beta, because if you were an omega you’d have fully soaked your panties and your shorts with slick by now.

Chan pushes his pants down his legs as well and you follow suit, leaving you both in nothing but your underwear. You can see the way Chan takes shallow breaths as he stares at your body, laid out and vulnerable for him.

Chan knocks himself out of his stupor and he descends on you, attacking you with his mouth. His tongue laves over your collarbones and his fingers dig into your hips. His scent is thick in the air as he works himself up more and more, getting closer to hitting his rut.

You feel Chan’s hands push up your torso and dip under your bra, pushing it up your chest to expose your breasts. Chan doesn’t hesitate to get to work, his fingers kneading at your boob, rubbing your sensitive nipple, while his mouth attaches to the other one. It reminds you of a hungry dog, though you guess that’s exactly what he is.

The alpha’s hips are positioned right over yours and you can feel his cock bump up against your clit. You’re sure he can feel your wetness through the thin layers of both of your underwear and you push your hips up a bit to get more friction. Thankfully Chan takes the hint and he trails his hand downward, shoving his hand into your panties to connect his fingertips to your clit. He rubs at it roughly and you throw your head back with a gasp as the pressure starts to satisfy the ache in your core.

“You smell so good,” Chan growls, his voice deep and thick. “Even without my hands on your cunt, I can smell how wet you are.”

Chan moves down the bed, so he’s in between your legs. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and strips them down your legs. You go to close your legs, embarrassed at being so exposed, and not enjoying the sudden chill of the air hitting your bare pussy, but Chan is quick to grip your thighs and pry your legs open once more.

The boy groans at the sight of your bare pussy exposed to him. “Baby,” he mumbles, “I need to taste you.” He grabs you by the ankles, pulling you closer to him so he can line his face right up to your cunt.

“Wait, wait,” you tell him. “Don’t focus on me, you’re the one in rut.”

“Not yet,” he says. “So let me have this.” With that he dives right in, his tongue licking a thick stripe right through your folds. You gasp, quickly clenching your thighs down around Chan��s head. This just makes Chan bury his head further between your legs, his lips wrapping around your clit. He sucks at the bud harshly, sending jolts of pleasure down your spine.

His mouth is messy against your cunt, kissing and licking and sucking wherever he can. You can hear the soft growls he emits from his throat, the sound getting more aggressive the more he licks at your pussy. Your body is already buzzing with pleasure and all you can do is whine as he pushes your legs apart further, feeding his fingers into your dripping entrance.

You can’t help but throw your head back, moans flowing freely from your mouth as Chan’s finger pushes deeper and deeper into you. 

“Ch-chan!” You gasp as he brushes up against your g-spot. Your hand flies to the bed, gripping the sheets tightly as you lock your legs around his back. 

The smell of arousal in the room increases, overtaking your senses and driving your mind further away from coherency. As Chan prolongs his time between your legs, you can feel his rut creeping closer. You know he feels it too, by the way he starts to get more restless, his hips rutting down against the mattress.

“Can’t take it any longer,” Chan grumbles as he finally pulls his head up from your legs. His face is slick with your arousal and there’s a dark look in his eyes. “Need to fuck your cunt.”

Suddenly Chan’s scent changes, completely overtaken by lust. You gasp as Chan shoves his boxers down his legs, his leaking cock releasing from the confines. It’s huge, larger than you were expecting, and you don’t have time to warn Chan to be careful because he’s lining himself up and pushing his tip in.

Unlike any normal omega, you’re not made to take alphas in rut, but Chan isn’t thinking clearly anymore and continues to push into you, ignoring the tight fit and doing his best to put it all in. 

“Open up, baby,” Chan growls. “Let your alpha fuck you.” His thumb rubs at your clit mercilessly and you gasp and whine, doing your best to relax for his cock. Finally Chan is able to bottom out and he lets out a low groan at the feeling.

The alpha barely lets you adjust though, pull his hips back only to slam them back in. Your body is jostled at the sheer force of his thrust and this seems to entertain Chan, as he does it again and again, slamming into your cunt.

The feeling of his alpha cock inside of you has your mind reeling. You’ve never felt anything like it before and you need more, you want him to fill you up as much as he can, knotting you like you’re his omega.

“You’re so tight,” Chan says. “Pretty little beta pussy taking my alpha cock so nicely.”

The pace of Chan’s hips contrast his speech, like they have a mind of their own. His grip on your hips is tight, pinning you down to the bed so you stay in place for him to fuck into. You already feel so close to your orgasm, but you know Chan is only just starting, and even if he does cum, he’ll be insatiable for a while. 

“A-alpha!” You squeal, your fingers digging into Chan’s back. You’re sure his whole back will end all scratched up, but you don’t think Chan will care too much.

Chan leans down, pressing his mouth all over your bare skin. His lips and teeth clash against your shoulder and chest as he nips and sucks all over, marking up your skin. He lets out soft whines as he does this and you run your hands through his hair, petting him like the pup he is.

The alpha’s mind is completely gone now, his only thoughts now being on his growing knot. For the first time in years you start to wish you were an omega, once again. You wonder how it would feel to get lost in pleasure the way they do, going dumb at the feel of an alpha’s cock filling them up. Just the thought of an alpha and omega mating, nothing in their minds but each other, you can’t help but yearn for that feeling.

Almost as if Chan can sense your thoughts, he nudges his nose right into your neck. You can feel his nostrils brush up against your scent gland as he whines into your neck. “You smell so good. Fuck baby, you’re so perfect for me. You know that? Fuck my pretty, perfect beta. Just for me.” Chan grabs your legs, hiking them up around his waist so he can fuck into you at a new angle. “Gonna breed your little cunt. Fill you up with my pups and get you so round and pregnant.”

“C-chan!” You gasp at his words. Your pussy betrays your mind though, clenching at the thought of being bred by Chan.

“See baby, you want it, you need it. And I need to give it to you. You’ll let me, right baby? You’ll let me give you all my pups?” Chan’s mouth strays dangerously close to your scent gland, his teeth teasing the spot.

You can barely think about his words, your mind only on the mating bite you wish he could give you. You know it won’t do much, not in the way it would with an omega, but god do you want it nonetheless. You’re not like Chan, you’re completely in the right headspace, not overtaken by your hormones, but you still want it. You want his bite and his pups and to be his. His beta.

“Fu-fuck, yes!” You cry out. “Breed me, please. Give me your knot.”

Like Chan was holding off until your word, Chan grips your hips tightly and pulls his hips back until he’s nearly pulled out, and with one fell swoop he thrusts his cock back into you, shoving his knot into you as he does. As soon as your cunt clenches down around his knot he’s milking himself into you, his cock twitching as you feel yourself fill up to the brim with his cum.

“Good girl, so fucking good,” Chan mumbles against your skin as his body sinks down against yours. He’ll be satisfied for now, but you’re sure he’ll need a few more rounds until his rut is completely ebbed away. “My pretty beta.”

“Channie,” you say, lifting his head up in your hands. Chan gets what you want and leans forward to kiss you, letting your lips slide together as he deepens the kiss.

When you two pull away Chan rests his head on your shoulder. His mind should be clearing up for the time being, at least until the next wave hits. “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course. I know I’m not-”

“Shhh, don’t. I don’t care if you're not an omega. You’re even better than one, okay? Because you’re you. My beta.”

You flush at the term. You’re not sure if it's still his rut brain talking, but from the way he’s nuzzling his nose right into your scent gland, you doubt it is. You want to talk about it with Chan, but you’re still stuck on his knot and you will be for the next day or so until he’s in his post-rut.

You’re not worried though, because from what you can tell, being Chan’s beta is way better than being any regular omega. 

taglist (rip sorry of yall aren't into a/b/o lol): @ckline35 @toruro @jeanjacketjesus @namjoonbaby @n4mj00nvq @lovelyhan @ovai @scorpiobitch88 @im-gemmy @lllucere @tulipgarland4 @embrace-themagic @sulkygyu @leejihoonownsmyheart @synthetickitsune @yeosayang @miraclewoozi @d0nghyck @soonhoonietrash @violetvoo @yongi-lee @spilled-coffee-cup @morklee02 @17kwans @candidupped @ressonancee @m1nghaos @1-800-jeonwonwoo @anothershorthuman @chwecardcaptor @jwnghyuns @flwrshwa @valentxi @heavenly-mobo @pandorashbox @enhacolor @starlight-night0 @todorokiskitten @miriamxsworld @just-here-to-read-01 @sunnyteume @debsworld23 @seuomo @tinkerbell460 @feat-sun @blxckswxnxge @erwins-left-tittie @dinoissupreme @speaknowlwt

join my taglist: here!

[tainted-liquor]

'High Score!'✰⋆⁺

Earth42!Miles Morales x BlackFem!Reader TWs: N word usage, making out, cussing, and I think thats it! Ingredients: Sugar, Kisses, smiles, and lemon zest! (Fluff + suggestive) W/C: 1.2k A/N: You, Miles, and your friends all decide to play laser tag at the mall! Unfortunately for you, your trigger-happy boyfriend doesn't really care for laser tag.

The loud electro-dance music burst through the surround-sound speakers, the floor vibrating as you bit back hushed giggles. You, Miles, and all of your friends decided to get together a week before to play some laser tag. So here you were now, pressed up against the wall as you guarded your chest in an attempt to conceal your hitbox as you peeked your head around the corner. Your friend Daniella had been giggling and yelling, having been 'shot' by your friend Pierston. One down, and six more to go.

Even though you all agreed that it was all just for fun, everyone had gotten extremely competitive the moment those faux vault doors opened, everyone running in different directions for cover. You knew you had this shit in the bag, but there was just one person you knew for a FACT you didn't wanna get into a showdown with. Your boyfriend, Miles. From the moment everyone was released, he was absolutely nowhere to be found. While everyone was panting, rolling on the floor, dodging and weaving between walls, there was no trace of him anywhere.

You gently shook the lingering anxiety away as you slowly made your way to a different hiding spot after noticing Daniella's wide-eyed stare and the subtle point she gave you as she took her walk of shame back to the waiting room. Snitch. You got down on the ground, shimmying over to a small hedge, and leaned back, slowly extending your head around the corner to see if you had been followed. You covered your mouth as you heard Ganke yell out the highest, shrillest, girly scream you think you've ever heard. As you hear a couple of rogue giggles, you quickly apply more pressure to not give away your location, frantic thumps, and heavy footsteps begin to echo throughout the room, indicating everyone's desperate attempts to conceal themselves from whatever predator was following them.

"BRING THAT ASS HERE, BOUL!" You hear Kalias shout through maniacal laughter.

"NO PLEASE! C'MON MAN, I JUST GOT HERE YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CREASE MY SHOES." Ganke yells as the footsteps get louder before a low buzz and a loud yelp of disappointment was heard from poor Ganke.

The room erupts with laughter as everyone jumps out, the desperation to catch each other finally attaching itself to most of the group. You take a deep breath, preparing to leave your hiding spot and join the adrenaline-fed gunfight, laughing loudly before being sharply cut off by the feeling of a strong hand pulling you backward. You yelp loudly as you look up, seeing Miles point his laser gun directly at your hitbox with an absolutely evil grin.

"What's good, Mami?" he mumbles as he literally presses you with a toy gun, wrapping his free arm around your lower waist. His smug grin turned into a full-fledged beam full of nothing but pure mischief. The small enclosure was loud, filled with upbeat techno, ray-gun pews, hysterical giggles, and the occasional shout or two. He lowered his laser gun, gently tucking it onto the orange and black belt buckle that came with the vest, pressing his finger to his lips as he watches your eyes widen. "Shhh, cuz I'll blast you back to that damn waiting room right now."

You roll your eyes as you smirk, pretending to be annoyed by his actions as he attempts to pull you impossibly closer. "Where have you been this entire time? I haven't seen or heard you even once." You whisper as you turn your head to the side in confusion. He chuckled lowly as he peeked around the corner, watching the chaos unfold as everyone chases each other around the arena. He shrugged before hoisting you up by the back of your thighs, gasping quietly as he supported all of your body weight with both of his hands. He places a series of careful kisses on your face before capturing your lips in a deep passionate kiss.

"'m waitin' for these niggas to start fearing for they lives..." He mumbled as he broke the kiss briefly. "Then when they start runnin' like rats, i'ma blast they asses back to the lobby" he pants as he continues to kiss you, slowly turning into a make-out session behind the faux wall. Your brows furrowed as he recited his plan, a playful smirk forming on your lips at the thought of how competitive he was being from afar. You laced both arms around his neck, playing with one of the braids that lay on the back of his head. You took this as an opportunity to link your ankles around his hips for extra support.

Any thought of being tagged by your friends dissipated as you melted into your boyfriend's secure hold. He gave you one final peck on the cheek before gently placing you back on your feet, shooting you a wink before grabbing his ray gun and almost immediately disappearing into the arena.

"OH SHIT RUN IT'S MILES!" you hear Jasmine screech before a string of buzzers rings throughout the arena. You silently admired how he seemingly glided through the room, landing perfect shots on your friends' hitboxes in what felt like 5 minutes. He had unexplainably great agility and near-damn perfect aim. Yeah, he was in basketball for a little bit back at school, but his remarkable reaction time and inhumane ability to dodge remained unaccounted for. Regardless of what you thought, you watched him work his magic, successfully sending our remaining six friends back to the lobby with an absolutely maddened expression.

He stuffed his gun back in his belt buckle before turning in your direction, that same devilish grin formulating itself on his lips as he raises his arms up. "Mami! 1v1 me!" He shouts. Your heart dropped into your stomach at the words, going back to the very first thought you had when the doors first permitted you into the arena. But regardless, you shrugged and walked out with both hands on your heavy metal ray gun, slowly approaching him as you pointed it at his vest. He gave you a nod, keeping his hands up as the final buzzer sounded, LED lights turning red all throughout the arena as he gave you a small smirk.

"Oh no! She got me!" He shouted. You suddenly realized he never intended on actually fighting you, and that he only wanted to rack up a high score and then go home to have something to brag about. All that yelling about a 1v1 and the 'showdown' you two had was just bluff so the rest of the group didn't think you were cheating. You burst out into laughter, pulling him into a tight hug as the vault doors opened up again, allowing a new wave of people to pass through as Miles wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

"She won." He shrugged, the ghost of a devilish grin still present on his face as your friends let out noises of shock.

"Ain't no way you lost to your girl, Miles." Daniella laughed as Miles shot her a rather rude glare.

"Girl shut the fuck up, you was the first to leave the premises." He spat.

You all spent the rest of the afternoon at the mall, clowning Miles on how he "lost to his girlfriend." Amidst all the talking and jokes, however, he shot you another wink you would have missed if you blinked.

[toyaslove]

Hii can you do pjsk boys with a hall monitor s/o? (Just like An)

A/N: Hello! Of course!! Sorry for taking so long to write your request, but here you go! I hope you'll like it..!

Tw: none!

Toya Aoyagi, Tsukasa Tenma, Akito Shinonome, and Rui Kamishiro x GN!Reader (separately)

Tags: @mccnstruck @hoshiilikesjojo @miya-akane @hinozukuu @akitosheart @toyaswif3y @sentientsoil – Come get your clumsy boys!

Hall Monitor!

Writing style: hc's and little scenarios

• • •

• • •

Akito Shinonome

あき~

▪︎ He isn't a good student nor a bad one. So u don't have to keep an eye on him because he's not a bother to you nor your Kamiyama High School

▪︎ He uses you almost as a shield. "Oh, you wanna prank the teacher? Yk, my S/O is the hall monitor, we could get in trouble"

▪︎ Mostly to... get out of trouble, yk?

▪︎ He can have his bold smile, and he looks like a troublemaker. When you met him, he made you think that. But he's actually... a really chill going? It's even surprising. Maybe because of his singing partner Toya!?

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"Akito Shinonome. The coordination wants to talk to you" – you say, in your shift

You bring Akito out of his classroom. You bring him to a corner where nobody can see you.

"What's that for?" – Akito looks at you with a confused face.

"I just wanted to be with you..." – You wrap your arms around Akito.

"May I have a kiss?" – You ask.

"Tsk... as you wish" – Akito says, taking you by the waist and kissing you.

Even trying to pretend he didn't like that, he felt happy. Well, he's not a fan of classes, right? Skipping class with his S/O is one of the best things he could ever think.

Toya Aoyagi

とうやああ~

▪︎ He's the chillest of the bunch

▪︎ Literally >no worries<, you don't even have to look at him because you KNOW he won't do anything wrong

▪︎ He might get some bullies because of the way he is, so you should be attentive to that

▪︎ Literally always saying "Hiiiii!!~~👋" when he sees you in the hallway

▪︎ He's proud to say his s/o is the hall monitor.

▪︎ He already talked to An (as she's your hall colleague) to see if you like something or check your preferences (so cute)

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"Oh! Y/N! Hiii!" Toya says waving at you, coming near you

"Hey, Toya, what's up? Something wrong?" You say getting close to Toya as well

"I just wanted to see you. Today my class ends earlier, so I thought of waiting for you to finish your shift and we can go have lunch together, what do you think?" Toya asks with a small, yet sweet and genuine smile

"Sure! But it will take a while..." You scratch your head and look with a sweet smile at Toya

"Alright, I can wait for you anyway. I'll be waiting for you in the library. Now, let me leave you do your work... see ya, hun." Toya kisses your cheek, hugs you, and leaves, going to the library.

Always respecting you and your time as a hall monitor. What a sweet and attentive boyfriend, isn't he?

Tsukasa Tenma

おれのすた~☆

▪︎ Um I mean.

▪︎ You really scold him and Rui VERY frequently.

▪︎ Differently from Akito and Toya, he's REALLY a troublemaker

▪︎ You scold him almost every day /hj

▪︎ You have to tell him to lower his voice cuz

▪︎ HE'S. ALWAYS. SCREAMING.

▪︎ "Shhh... there are people having class, you know Tsu!?" You tell him.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You're normally having your shift, walking through the hallway and monitoring it. Until...

You hear a notorious voice. Screaming. Accompanied of loud steps.

– "Y/N, HELP ME, HELP ME, AAAAAAAAAAAA" Tsukasa screams, running away from Rui with one of his very "peaceful" creations.

– "You two, stop!" You say firmly, making them both stop. You scold them to the coordination to receive a little punishment.

– "Hey... i thought you loved me!" Tsukasa says with a dramatic tone, putting a hand on his forehead dramatically

– "Of course I love you... I just have to make things right, ok? I have to take care of stuff here" You say gently, patting Tsukasa's head and giving him a forehead kiss

Well, even though he's a troublemaker, you still love him. You both go home after school and stay the entire day together, cuddling and laughing.

Rui Kamishiro

るい~

▪︎ Well um

▪︎ If you read Tsukasa's one you can already predict

▪︎ The worst troublemaker of the bunch.

▪︎ FUCKING EXPLODES THE SCHOOL EVERY DAY /hj

▪︎ You have to spend most of your time scolding him

▪︎ He always looks at you with his bold smile and when you see it.... you already know.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

– BOOM! You hear a noise coming from the hallway, making you run towards the noise

Well, you already know what to expect.

You go where the noise came from, and you put a hand on your waist.

– "I know you want my attention, but you really need to do those things? Please just do not put the school on fire." You say, almost like a mom/dad scolding their child.

You send him to the coordination and he looks at you with a... disappointed face.

– "I thought I'd receive a kiss at least!" Rui says

– "I will not encourage a menace!" You say jokingly, laughing slightly

– "Well... i guess I'll have to do it myself." He interrupts you, putting a hand on your chin and kissing your lips

Well... you scold him all the time, but will it work one day? Probably not. Will he stop? No. Will you ignore him? No. So, this cycle will repeat itself again, and again, and again... still, you love him, and out of school, you support his menace acts! You're happy to see the effort he does to make people smile.

A/N: I RLLY HOPE U LIKE IT! Toya × Reader "#" is really dead so let's pump it up right!? WE NEED MORE FICS FFS WRITERS I NEED MORE TOYAYAYAYAY

[dontyoufeelitangel]

BUILD ME UP

Echo - The Bad Batch x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: A psychology lesson from the medic of the batch turns into a personal experiment. How will Echo react to being your subject?

Tags/Warnings: SFW, mentions of animal testing (nothing graphic), established relationships, kissing, fluff, (I accidentally made Wreck really dumb in the first half, so we’re just going to pretend that’s because he’s tipsy. Sorry wreck!)

Prompt : “Why do you build me up, buttercup baby, just to let me down? - I need you, more than anyone darling. You know that I have from the start. So build me up, buttercup, don’t break my heart.”

A/N: this prompt comes from the bad batch playlist I put together from the song “Build Me Up Buttercup - The Foundations”. This is not a song fic, feel free to check out the playlist! Also, yes the timeline and character appearances in this chapter are messed up and do not follow the original show, shhh it’s fine, we’re gonna ignore it🤫

.

.

.

You joined the batch as their medic right before the rise of the empire and stuck with them through order 66. While you never officially finished your medic schooling, you were qualified. More than qualified actually. You had saved the boys butts on multiple occasions, and when it came to the mental weight of what they’ve been through, you always knew just what to say.

Over time you naturally became great friends with the boys. Each of them were so unique and they had so much personality. They became your home away from home. You seemed to be closer with one more than the others. Echo. He was -biologically- the reg of the group, but his experience and individuality made him as unique as the rest of the batch. It was also what made you fall for him.

Naturally, the two of you became a thing, nothing official but it was very clear the both of you loved each other.

So here you sat, the dim lights of Cid’s parlor reflecting on your glass. Wrecker and Tech were in a game of sabacc. You sat close, shadowing over Techs shoulder watching him play his hand. Light conversation had started between the three of you. The conversation started with the rules of the game and slowly melted into you talking about your unfinished schooling.

“Well I don’t know if I should trust you on the field anymore doc!” Wrecker snorted. The contagiousness of his laughter put a small smile on your face. You were now grinning at him from behind Tech’s shoulder.

“Trust whatever you want big guy, just don’t expect me to save your ass on the field next time” your words laced with playful sarcasm as you sipped on your drink.

“And hey! What’s stopping me from walking over there and giving away your cards to tech!?” A sound between a laugh and a scoff erupted from you as you set your drink down.

Tech only smiled and watched the interaction before speaking up.

“She’s more qualified than you” Tech nodded, putting a card down. His affirmation drew a smile from your lips.

“See! I love to see the support,” you waved your arms at tech before giving him a friendly pat on Tech’s shoulder.

“And it’s not even just about what I can do on the field- I’m knowledgeable in psychology and chemistry too,” you chest puffed in proudness. Wrecker only gave a playful huff,

“You were educated in psychology?” Tech inquired.

“You’re surprised? It IS a requirement for medic schooling” you adjusted your stool slightly to be in the middle of the two boys rather than behind tech.

“Not necessarily surprised, I’m very aware of your capability. It’s just that -as a clone- I personally didn’t take many psychology classes. My studies were more directed towards computer sciences and database management. Then again, I wasn’t taught to specifically specialize in the medical field.” Tech spoke, you only nodded,

“So what you’re saying is, doc is a smarty” the loudness of Wreckers voice could almost throw you off guard, luckily you’ve spent enough time around him to be used to his volume.

You smiled at the statement,

“Of course” you smiled,

“How about a lesson?” You tilted your head toward Wrecker.

“I’m interested” a short response, but very much expected from tech.

You thought about what piece of information you could tell them. Searching your brain for a piece of knowledge the two of them didn’t know.

“A quick lesson on the tooka-bell experiment” you said,

The boys continued playing while you spoke, still listening to what you were saying. Acknowledging your voice by giving short nods,

“The tooka bell experiment was a conditioning experiment in tookas. About how a bell could get a natural reaction out of a tooka.” You started,

“When a tooka is fed, they salivate-“

“Like slobbering!” Wrecker interrupted.

“Yes,” you smiled,

“Like slobbering” you nodded before continuing to your lesson.

“A scientist would ring a bell every time he fed the experimental tooka. The tooka began associating the bell with receiving food. One day, the scientist accidentally rang the bell without having any tooka food prepared. The tooka began to salivate thinking it was going to be fed.” You finished.

“Ah, I get it. It’s a simple process of contidioning a neutral stimulus to get a response” tech nodded grabbing some cards from a deck that was set out on the table.

“Precisely” you have a curt nod, finishing off your drink.

“Uhhh, I don’t think I get it” Wrecker shook his head.

“It’s unconscious learning through repetition. For example: you and omega get mantell mix after every mission. Mantell mix and the end of a mission are two completely unrelated things. But because it’s become a tradition for you and little Omega, it would feel weird not to get the mantel mix at the end of a mission. Does that help big guy?” you gave him a glance followed along with a smile.

“I guess…” he slowly nodded.

The game of sabacc slowly wrapped up. It was quite late, there was a mission tomorrow and everyone had to get a good nights rest.

The cards were neatly put away and the drinks were discarded as the glasses were set to be cleaned.

You said you goodnights to Tech as you turned to say goodbye to Wrecker”

“Hopefully you ain’t doin’ that to us.” He let out a chuckle,

“Doing what?” Your head tilted.

“Training us subconsciously or whatever, I mean, the only dud who’d fall for it is Echo” this time he gave out a real laugh, one straight from his stomach. He ruffled you hair before walking off.

He was right though, Echo would totally fall for it.

Training was a strong word, but hopefully Echo wouldn’t mind. You had a strong plan made up, you grinned to yourself before walking to your own sleeping quarters.

.

The next day was mission day, something about extracting some goo from rocks or something. You really didn’t remember- or care.

Today also marked the day of your experiment.

You found yourself sitting in the front of the marauder, preparing to go into light speed.

“Hey Echo,” your voice soft and sweet, he was unsuspecting.

He let out a small ‘hmm?’ Before looking at you,

“Could I get a kiss before light speed?” You batted your lashes at him, you leaned your weight on the armrest, pushing yourself toward him.

“Of course” he smiled before kissing you.

The kiss was sweet and soft, much like echo himself. Although it didn’t last long, it was romantic and all that you needed in a kiss.

You smiled at him through your lashes before sitting back in your seat properly and jumping to hyper space.

.

The mission went fine, almost like any other. During the mission Echo had told you he ‘wouldn’t mind getting more kisses from you.’

It’s almost like he could read your mind, because for the next five missions you’d always find him right before hyper space and give him a kiss.

You started off by tapping his shoulder and politely asking for one, to just leaning over to him and giving him the kiss.

He never once missed a kiss, who was he to deny your request?

In fact, he must’ve gotten so used to it. For the next handful of missions or marauder trips, he would initiate the kiss right before hyper space.

That was your plan, because after around ten hyper space jumps, giving you a kiss before hand seemed to come natural to him. You had him right where you wanted it.

.

One afternoon before the batch and you were set to return back to ord mantell, you had called Tech and Wrecker to talk to them in the marauder.

“What is it that you required?” Tech asked, setting down his datapad.

“You boys remember the conversation we had a few months ago? About conditioning?” You spoke, mostly directing your question towards Wrecker.

Tech only have a curt nod and Wrecker grumbled something about ‘totally understanding what you were talking about’.

You gave a smile,

“Right, well, You told me Echo would fall for it, yeah?” You nodded your head, smiling while gesturing to Wrecker.

“I guess I did say that,” wrecker rubbed the back of his head, not fully remembering the previous conversation the three of you had.

Tech, who finally started to understand where this conversation was growing shook his head before speaking,

“You didn’t” he said,

“Oh I did,” you were now grinning ear to ear,

“Before we go into light speed, watch what echo does” you laughed, before walking over to the cockpit of the marauder.

.

You were now buckled into your seat, Tech and Wrecker looking into the cockpit for the interaction about to go down.

“Preparing the jump to hyperspace” you announced, putting your attention to some buttons and levers on the control panel.

You were purposely putting your attention away from echo,

As if on queue, echo pointed his head towards you, his eyes still focused on whatever he had had in his hands.

His lips puckered and ready for a kiss,

He sat like that for about five seconds -which doesn’t seem like a long time, but when you’re sitting there, full duck lips, it feels like an eternity-.

You saw his actions from the corner of your eye, still focused on the control panel. You gave a sly smile, attempting to hold in your own giggles.

Echo blinked a few times before realizing you didn’t kiss him, and you weren’t going to.

Heat rushed to his face as he leaned back into his chair,

Maker he must’ve looked so stupid -not to mention desperate- just sitting there with his lips puckered expecting a kiss from you.

He looked around in embarrassment to make sure nobody was watching, upon looking behind him he found two heads peaking into the cockpit.

Tech must’ve only found this slightly amusing because he only gave a smile,

Wrecker on the other hand, burst out into laughter. The sound of Wreckers laughter had let you know the bit was over, you too started laughing.

Echo was unamused and embarrassed. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his face flat, he didn’t find it funny. Your laughter and giggles made him realize that this was your plan all along,

Your giggles died down before you gave him a light pat on the cheek before jumping into hyperspace.

[ghulehunknown]

Group Sex with Terzo

Terzo x F!Reader x Siblings of Sin

Day 11 of KINKTOBER is here! 🎃

**WARNING - EXPLICIT, NSFW**

Also available on AO3!

“Let’s Have a Satanic Orgy”

Terzo x F!Reader x Siblings of Sin

Summary: After making a few too many jokes at Terzo’s expense, he proves you and your Siblings wrong.

CW/Tags: F!Reader, AFAB non-binary Sibling of Sin character, Sister of Sin character, nipple play, group sex, mutual masturbation, semi-public sex, P in V sex, unprotected sex, partner swapping, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, CMNF, love at first fuck

Word Count: 3140

Decorating the Abbey for a haunted Black Mass this Hallows’ Eve, you passed the time talking to your Siblings Selene and Alix. The pair of them were hanging black curtains against the stone back wall behind the altar and you held the ladder to make sure neither of them fell.

“So do you think he can really…well, you know,” said Selene. “When he talks about doing two at a time.”

“No way,” Alix replied with a scoff.

“I dunno, I think he still can,” you said, smiling while their backs were turned. It was almost like you knew a secret they didn’t - but you didn’t, not really.

You and Terzo had a bit of a…moment in the side hall linen closet last week. You were stocking the laundry with clean habits and cassocks for the Siblings when Terzo slipped in, likely avoiding Imperator or Nihil. “Shhh,” he told you at the time, peering out of the crack of the door to make sure whoever he was hiding from had passed down the hallway. “Ah, it’s you,” he said slyly, remembering your shy glances at him during Mass while he was leading worship. “Let me help you.”

He had helped you reach the top shelf, though he was not much taller than you, when he grazed against your chest accidentally. “Sorry, Sis-” he had begun to say. Unfortunately, your brain lost all control of your faculties and you let out a quiet moan when he did this. When you turned around to face him and his sneaky grin, he looked down your front, finding your hard nipples through your habit with ease. This one was a bit…worn, and see through. You had glanced down to find something of his that was hard as well through his chasuble. “Well this was fun. Gotta go,” he remarked with a wink, carefully poking his head out of the closet and darting down the hall in the opposite direction he came from. ‘The fuck?’ you thought to yourself at the time, hanging your head out of the closet and watching him go. But you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since then.

“Nah, I’m calling it. The man is gorgeous but I bet you he can’t get it up long enough to - ” Alix began to say but Selene elbowed them in the side.

“Who can’t get what up?” came a familiar voice and your eyes widened before turning around to face him.

“Papa - w-we were just, um,” you stammered.

“Relax, Siblings,” he said, looking at the three of you. “I was just coming in to check how things were going here. I would not normally hover over you, you see, but Sister she eh -” he rolled his eyes at the mere mention of her name.

“Yes,” you remarked morosely, looking up at Selene and Alix on the ladders with hooks in their hands, their eyes equally in shock - their attempts to hide behind the curtains not working. “Imperator always has her tight deadlines, doesn’t she?”

Selene nodded her head quickly while Alix pretended to lose their baphomet sigil amongst the heavy curtain panels.

Terzo picked up a few of the decorations on the altar mindlessly. “Now what’s this about Papa not being able to ‘get it up’?”

Oh fuck. Obviously your Siblings weren’t going to give up the game that easily.

“It was just silly gossip Papa, I promise,” you said while looking at him earnestly. “It meant nothing.”

“Mm, well I have a reputation around here to maintain,” he said, placing both hands on the altar and glancing between the three of you. “Imagine if this unfounded gossip landed in the wrong hands? Can’t have that now, can we?”

You couldn’t explain the effect he had on you, but his words… you could feel the heat build between your legs as he spoke with such a command, although feigning an air of innocence at the same time. He intimidated you, and you liked it.

Selene and Alix had finished hanging up one panel of the curtains, and came down the ladder steps. Alix approached the altar to grab another box of nails, but stopped dead in their tracks when Terzo shot a glance their way.

“You especially seem doubtful, Sibling,” he said to them.

Alix swallowed and didn’t respond, suddenly no longer your outspoken friend they normally were.

“So have you ever…I mean, taken two at a time after a show?” Selene asked.

Terzo smirked at her, then looked in your direction before answering. “I don’t kiss and tell.” But something about the way he said this told you he had - and probably had more lovers in one night than you’d ever had in your whole life.

“So why don’t we settle this score, and put to bed your little rumors, no?” he continued, looking at each of you. All of you glanced at one another, hoping the other might telepathically give you the right answer to say. Sensing your uncertainty, he looked towards Alix. “You. Come.”

“Yes, Papa,” they obeyed and walked up to Terzo, hands clasped in front of them.

“Kiss tua Sorella and take off your habit.”

They paused. “Er - which one?”

“Whichever you like,” he said, leaning against the altar and crossing his arms against his chest.

Alix walked over to Selene, who did not falter and leaned her head to the side, inviting Alix’s lips to hers. They kissed for a few moments, building until their tongues were slipping into each other’s mouths, quiet and breathy moans escaping as they clung onto one another’s arms.

Just when you thought Papa never noticed the lower ranked Siblings, he continued to surprise you. It was as if he knew and could sense the budding attraction between them for the last few weeks. Even you had caught them flirting with one another, even if they had never admitted it out loud.

Alix broke away from their embrace and turned to look at Terzo who nodded at them. They unzipped their habit and slid it down past their hips, letting it fall to the floor. Naturally small-chested, they often chose to forgo a bra, now standing in front of Papa in nothing but their thong panties.

“Those too,” he said, pointing down. They slipped those off too, now standing in front of their peers and superior completely bare.

He made a come hither motion and they walked up to him. He kissed them gently, caressing their body, his hands cupping their breasts. Alix moaned, closing their eyes.

“I love your fucking cute little tits,” he breathed in between their lips, cupping their chin his hand. “Così dannatamente perfetto.” He motioned for them to sit on the edge of the altar.

As Alix sat down, Terzo motioned for Selene to come to him. She followed suit, already unzipping her habit. He helped her take it off, turning her around so he could unhook her bra. He kissed her on the lips, thumbing her hard nipples and holding her petite frame in his arms easily. He tapped her on the ass and motioned for her to join Alix on the altar, yanking her panties off as she turned around.

Next would be you. You swallowed, closing your eyes for a moment as you realized the man you’d been longing for would soon have his lips on yours…

But he went to your Siblings to the altar instead, leaving you watching. He positioned himself in between them, bringing his hands to their sex, rubbing circles between their thighs while alternating kissing them. They kissed each other through pleasured sighs when he took turns sucking their nipples.

After a moment or two, he retracted his fingers from their clits and stepped back, allowing them to embrace each other and kiss more passionately. “Lick their pretty little cunt,” he instructed Selene. She eyed Terzo as she moved down Alix’s body, finally burying her face in their folds, slipping her tongue inside. Alix moaned louder, arching their back. “Brava ragazza,” he said before turning to you. “You.”

“Yes, Papa?” you asked meekly as he sauntered over to you.

“You better be fucking wet,” he said into your ear, sliding his hand between your legs and finding the barrier of the damp fabric of your panties - already saturated in your arousal.

“I think you’ll find what you’re looking for,” you said with a smile, finding a similar smile spread across his lips almost immediately. He tugged at your underwear, pulling them down your legs. You helped him by kicking them off your ankles and spread your legs for his exploring hand.

His gloved fingers met your clit with ease, already slippery with your slick. “Mmn,” you purred as he made gentle flicking motions. Rather than kiss you, he watched your face intently - each muscle in your face twitching and contorting at every graze to your core. He watched your eyebrows furrow and your lips open to coo as he added another finger, dipping inside your already dripping hole.

You could hear the contented sighs of your Siblings coming from the altar growing louder. You reached down and grasped his rock hard cock through his robes, hearing him murmur “Satanas.”

He led you to the altar, laying you down on your back while he undressed you fully. The cold marble startled your nervous system, your back arching to save your body heat, an “ah!” escaping your lips. You looked to your right, Selene still enthusiastically diving into Alix whose body was convulsing, evidently close to climax.

Terzo kissed your lips gently - the first time your mouths intertwined, feeling just how passionate and sweet his touch could be. He kissed along your body, along your stomach, along your hips, until his lips met in between your thighs. He exhaled, savoring this moment. You inched your hips forward, desperate for release at this point. He slipped his tongue in between your pussy lips, sliding around with the tip and exploring every inch of you. He moaned as he hit your entrance, sucking your slick right out of your cunt.

Your breath caught in your throat until a quiet hum formed. He stroked himself as he covered his face in your juices, sloppily sucking and licking like a desperate, starving man who had never eaten before and was determined to leave the plate clean.

To your right, Alix screamed out in the throes of passion, their body shuddering against Selene’s mouth. Selene held Alix’s head in her hands, tenderly kissing their face until their breathing returned to normal.

They switched positions with Alix now buried in Selene just as Terzo moved up your body, one hand by your ear, the other on his cock. He stroked himself, placing the tip right at your entrance. You spread your legs to prepare yourself for him. He glided inside you with ease, your aching cunt needing to be filled.

And oh fuck - he must’ve been made for you, he fit so well. You didn’t need to prepare for his stretch or length because he just fit, like Lucifer had made you two to piece together like a puzzle.

“Cazzo, you feel so fucking good,” he breathed, entering you thrusting in and out with ease. You cried out as he perfectly brushed against your g-spot from this angle. He continued for a few minutes, your Siblings’ moans acting as a horny soundtrack.

He leaned in to kiss you before sliding out and moving over to Alix, whose ass was in the air, mouth moving over Selene’s cunt. He slammed into them from behind as they cried out. He held onto their hips and pummeled into them. “Is this how you imagined it to be, caro, hmn?” he asked into their ear. Alix could only gasp in pleasure for an answer, satisfying Terzo.

Selene leaned over to kiss you and you could smell Alix’s arousal on her mouth. She reached in between your legs and massaged your clit while you both continued to kiss, Alix hovered between her legs, and Terzo behind them. He extended his arm to Selene’s cunt to relieve Alix, who was gasping and moaning as Terzo slid into them.

He pulled out after a few moments and positioned himself in front of Selene, yanking her legs so their hips were aligned. He lifted her chin with his hand, bringing her face to his and kissing her - though more roughly than he did with you, you noticed. He pushed her legs open, completely exposing her to him, a devilish grin on his face. He thumbed her clit while sliding his cock up to meet her slit, then pushing himself in. As Selene moaned loudly, Alix curled up next to her on the altar, caressing her face and running their hands through her hair.

“You see how your sweet Sister takes my cock so well?” Terzo asked, looking down at Selene as he pumped his entire length in and out of her. “Tell her Siblings, tell her how good she’s doing.”

“You’re taking Papa so well,” Alix encouraged Selene, still stroking her cheek and giving her a kiss on the lips. You stroked her hair and leaned in to kiss her as well, your hand buried in your cunt to alleviate the absence of Papa and Selene’s ministrations.

Terzo continued rubbing circles over her clit while Alix kissed her passionately. Selene’s breathing got quicker, moaning louder and louder. You grabbed onto Terzo’s ass, pushing him deeper into her. Terzo rode her through her orgasm, her body clenching and tensing, her legs wrapping around his waist. Terzo didn’t let up his pace or give her a chance to settle down, instead driving into her more wildly from hearing her cries.

Seeing three obedient Siblings wait so patiently for their turn with him seemed to nearly drive Terzo over the edge as he grunted through thrusts, “Cazzo, not yet!” and pulled out of Selene entirely. He looked you in the eyes. You.

He was saving you for last, his first taste not enough.

He motioned for the other two to get on either side of you. He slid you down towards the middle of the altar, Selene getting up and readjusting herself to your left shoulder, Alix scooting up towards your right. They both ran their hands down your body, massaging your breasts and nipples, touching your cheek, detangling your now messy hair, taking turns kissing you and each other.

Terzo watched them as he spread your legs apart and began to massage along your nethers. He was taking his time exploring a new body with his hands, almost as if to know your shape by muscle memory. He muttered something in Italian under his breath, likely filthy. Eventually his gaze fell to you and only you. He seemed to study you, watching intently as your chest rose and fell with his touches - which strokes and what intensity made you react a certain way. You inhaled sharply as he slipped two fingers inside you and his eyes met yours, watching the way your facial muscles tensed. He twisted and curled his fingers inside you towards him and you exhaled, your mouth opening. He muttered what almost sounded like, “hm,” watching you like a hawk.

“How does that feel?” he asked.

“It feels so good,” you whispered breathlessly.

“Bene. Are you ready for more, Sorella?” he asked softly. You nodded, and he pulled his erection from his robes again, sliding his length along your slit from your core right up to your bud, over and over. He smiled and took delight in watching you hiss each time he tapped your clit with the head of his cock. Your body was tense but you relaxed the more he stroked you up and down, ready for him.

Once he decided he had worked you up enough to take him internally again, he pushed his member inside your cunt and glided in with ease. The two of you moaned together as he filled your walls just as perfectly as before.

“Satanas you are so fucking wet, so fucking tight,” he groaned happily. “Are you this wet from me, or from your Siblings?”

Your cheeks were flushed hot red, sweat forming at your temples. “B-both, I think Papa,” you said.

“Mmn - ! But you are getting wetter from me, Sorella,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Yes, Papa,” you choked through his thrusts.

“Cazzo Sorella, I do not think I will last much longer,” he said, biting his lower lip and tossing his head back. He continued rubbing circles around your sensitive bud with his thumb. You could feel your Siblings caressing your breasts but you really only had eyes for Terzo.

“I’m s-so close, Papa,” you assured him.

“Mm, fuck - ! Where do you want it, sweet Sister? Your pretty tits or your pretty face, hm?” He looked at you, cocking his head to the side.

Goddammit, why did he have to look so cute? Before you fully registered his words you found yourself saying, “Inside me.” Wait, really?

“Merda Sorella, are you sure? - oh Lucifer fuck -”

“Really,” you breathed as you felt your own orgasm take over, and felt him coat you inside.

You had never experienced a high like this. Surrounded by lovers helping you, caring for you. But it was your embrace with Terzo that sent you over the edge. The two of you kissed as he grunted, spilling the last drops of his seed along your walls.

“Buon lavoro, Siblings,” he said, rubbing you each on the chin whilst still inside you. Each of you got up and began to put your clothes back on as Papa adjusted himself back in his robes. “I’ll be sure to tell Imperator you do very good work here,” he said with a wink.

“Grazie, Papa,” you all said in unison, bowing your heads slightly before grabbing your habits from the floor.

As you were each putting your clothes back on, Terzo instructed, “Put each other’s panties on - I want you to feel how wet you were for one another.” You grabbed Selene’s pink panties, feeling the cold wet spot meet your cunt as you slid them over your hips. You could feel your cheeks blush as you each looked at one another.

“Now these silly rumors,” he continued, walking up to Alix who was in the middle of slipping your underwear over their hips.

“Shall never be repeated again, Papa,” they said, lowering their chin but looking him in the eyes.

“Molto bene,” he said, gently clapping them on the cheek while giving you a wink. He began to walk down the aisle of the Abbey towards the front door, but turned on his heel to look at you all once more. “I believe that panel is crooked.”

The panel Alix and Selene had just put up fell off the wall just as Terzo exited.

Italian to English Translations

- tua Sorella (your Sister)

- Così dannatamente perfetto (So damn perfect)

- Brava ragazza (good girl)

- Cazzo (Fuck)

- caro (dear)

- Bene (Good)

- Merda (Shit)

- Buon lavoro (Good job)

- Molto bene (Very good)

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Obviously

Prompt Day 3: Mutual Pining | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Brief Period-Typical Internalized Homophobia | Tags: Dual POV, Post-Season 4, Idiots in Love, Just Make a Move Already, Platonic Stobin, Eddie and Gareth are Best Friends

Steve

Steve waits outside of The Hideout, hoping Eddie will come out soon. He's trying to be casual about it, but he knows he's basically being a certified stalker. Robin is loving every embarrassing minute of his steady descent into madness.

"Just tell him, dingus. Ask him out," Robin says.

"Just like you asked out Vickie?" Steve says, "Or Nance? Why is it impossible for you, but is supposed to be easy for me?"

Robin rolls her eyes, "Because Eddie has a crush on you, too. Obviously."

"Obviously," he mocks, sarcastically.

He likes Eddie, and he's spent months dancing around that fact because he doesn’t really know how to just…say that. He wants to say it, wants to see if Eddie feels the same way. But Eddie’s never shown an ounce of interest. He steers clear of Steve, never does anything alone with him. Maybe they aren't friends. Maybe they are just two strangers that survived a traumatic experience together, and Steve's trying to make it into more than it ever was. Steve feels like they are friends, though, but Eddie sure isn't making it easy. He’s keeping Steve at an arm’s length and Steve is sure it’s because Eddie thinks he’s being weird.

He’s making this weird. He doesn’t mean to, it’s just…happening against his will.

The door to the bar opens, and Steve straightens up, "Shhh!" he hisses at Robin, and she just gives him the familiar face telling him he’s a dingus. He waits, and slumps again when he realizes it’s not Eddie. Then he hears a commotion from around the corner of the building, in the alley.

Car doors banging, loud arguing, just a general ruckus. He strains to hear. Maybe it’s Eddie. The van was parked back there, he saw it when he pulled up tonight.

"Do you think your boyfriend is still here?" comes the question from a voice, loud and cocky. 

"Shut up, Gareth," is the reply, and that’s definitely Eddie. They must be loading the van with their equipment. Usually they hang out first, but there’s another band following them tonight, so they must have had to load out early.

Steve wants to die. He’s been too obvious. Goddamnit, that's embarrassing. He’ll just slink off, and pretend this night never happened.

"Get in the car," he hisses at Robin, voice low and imploring, as he climbs off the trunk, and crawls into the driver’s seat of the BMW. She gets in next to him, and is staring at him. He refuses to look her way as he pulls out of the gravel parking lot, back onto the highway. They just won’t come back next Tuesday. He won’t, anyway.

No way in hell.

Eddie

"Stop it," Eddie says, putting Sweetheart into the back of the van, making sure she’s secure and won’t get banged around by the rest of the gear. "He’s not my boyfriend and you damn well know it. Steve Harrington? Into me? The Freak? Unlikely."

Gareth scoffs, "Dude keeps hanging around like a little lost puppy. You have eyes, dontcha? He’s into you."

"He’s not into me, drop it," Eddie says, helping Gareth load his drums. There’s a very particular order to repacking the van, and if they don’t do it right, it’s gonna suck dick, and not in the good way.

"He is," Gareth argues, and this kid will never let him get the last word, that’s just the way of the world.

"Gareth. Steve is straight. As an arrow, and I’m pretending to be, too. So, knock it off. I don’t want the town hunting me down for being a different kind of freak."

Gareth looks at him, and lowers his voice, "He likes you, Eddie. He just doesn’t know how to tell you that. I’m sure of it."

"Great. You’re sure of it. Let me get my ass kicked on your hunch."

"Eddie," Gareth says, putting both hands on Eddie's shoulders, "Steve Harrington isn’t going to kick your ass. Steve Harrington nearly died to save you. Steve Harrington keeps coming to this shitty bar, to hear us play shitty music he hates. Pull your head out of your ass."

Eddie sighs. Steve saved him, that much is fucking true. But that has nothing to do with liking him. That’s just Steve. He wanted to protect his flock, and somehow, Eddie’s in it. Eddie’s supposed to have his own sheep to tend to, not be one of Steve’s sheep. It’s weird.

Eddie climbs in the driver’s seat and Gareth climbs in beside him. 

"You should just give him a sign. A little one. Steve will run with it, swear to god. He's a brave fool, like that. I know it. Do something small. Just. Give him a little bit of hope, and…" Gareth says, slapping his hands together, "you’re in there."

Eddie loves him, but Gareth's an idiot. But, maybe this isn't totally terrible advice?

Steve

Steve sits out by his pool. It took a lot of time to be able to return to it, after Barb. He kicks his foot, splashing the water, and stops when he hears something walking through the brush. He doesn't have a weapon, but he's thinking about pushing himself up to standing when he sees Eddie coming through the trees.

Steve relaxes and laughs, "You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry, I just thought your neighborhood might not appreciate me in their midst," Eddie says, moving over and toeing off his shoes to sit down beside him.

They haven't been this close since Steve was forcing him up through the gate, trying to save him.

"You didn't stay after tonight," Eddie says, softly.

"Oh, well, uh, I thought maybe you didn't want me to, anymore," Steve admits.

"I wanted you to," Eddie says, glancing over at him, smiling, just a little, and then he lays his hand on Steve's knee. 

Holy shit. 

This is an opening. Steve's sure, and he's gonna take it.

Steve smiles, and leans in for a kiss.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my tag, right here!

[bluebirdsboi]

Dawn | Connor Rhodes x Male Reader | 18+

Fandom: Chicago Med

Genre: Angst, Implied Smut | Songfic: Haunted by Laufey

Pairing: Connor Rhodes x Male Reader

Warnings: Sexually suggestive

Word Count: 749

~ Requests are clsoed ~ Taglist is open

!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!

Key

Italic text = Song lyrics

(Y/n) = Your name

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

A/N: Hey guys, this did turn out a little shorter than I would've liked, but I'm okay with it. Requests are still closed, but you can still show support with likes, comments and reblogs. My taglist is open, so if you want to be tagged in future fics, send me a DM or an inbox message and tell me which fandoms you want to be tagged for, or if you're okay with anything. In other news, I'm still working on the second chapter of my The Last of Us fic and the first chapter of an Anyone But You fic that I plan on being a trilogy. Both will be on my second blog as well as my AO3 and Wattpad, so I'd appreciate if you check those out. The masterlist for Chicago Med will be up later tonight and Chapter 1 of the Anyone But You fic should be up also later tonight or tomorrow, so until then, thank you for reading <3.

One more kiss, wine stained lips I don't want to go to sleep yet Pale moonlight, misty eyes I'll allow myself to have him just tonight

Connor's hands felt warm against your biceps. His lips, soft, yet passionate against your bare shoulder. You lose yourself in the feeling, savoring every second because you know that it won't last. "Connor-" "Shhh." You felt his chest against your back as he tilted your face to catch your lips. All he wanted to do was stay in that moment for as long as he could. The feeling of his lips dancing with someone else's was intoxicating, and you let yourself become enamored with the sensation.

I hold on to every ounce of sin I know he don't love me quite like I love him

He slowly guides you to the bed as he kisses down your neck, causing you to sigh and moan in ecstasy. His lips and breath continue to trail down your body, but you know that this situation means different things to both of you. You want this to keep going for as long as it can, even past tonight, but for Connor, it's just another way to change up his night. Regardless, neither of you cared and just wanted each other.

I swear to myself as he leaves at dawn This will end, 'til he haunts me again

Just before dawn started to break, you felt Connor moving on the other side of the bed. You rolled over just to see him, even if he wasn't facing you, which he wasn't. An urge to ask him to stay started to rise, but you decided against it. "I'll, uh.. see you later today (Y/n)." Every part of you wanted to grab him by the arm and pull him back in bed, but you told yourself that this was just a situational thing. You just got caught up in the moment and now, that moment has passed.

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

Rose perfume, low-lit room I'll pretend you'll stay forever Lay me down, ghostly sounds

"Oh, come on. You know you can always talk to the guy." You were in the break room and telling April about what happened last night with Connor. It was still so vivid in your mind, the moonlight that crept through the window, the way he caressed your arms, you swear you could still feel his lips on your shoulder. You wanted to tell Connor how you really felt about him, but after last night and knowing that he's just going to move on like nothing happened held you back. "It won't matter. It was just a one-night stand type of thing, you know?" April felt somewhat bad for you because she knew how much you wanted to be with Connor. "Well, if you ever feel up to it, you know where to find him. Just find the right time." April gave you a pat on the shoulder before she left. She could tell you needed a minute alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Haunt the hallways as he wraps me around

The evening just began to settle when you heard a knock on the door and decided to answer. Connor standing in front of the door frame was the last thing you expected, but then again, you weren't expecting anything. He couldn't even explain why he was at your doorstep, but you welcomed him in, regardless. Despite your feelings, you could still be cordial with Connor, albeit they peeked through when you sat a little closer to him than you should have on the couch.

And I hold on to every ounce of sin I know he don't love me quite like I love him

The night got dangerously close to a repeat of what happened the night before, and what tipped it over the edge was when his arm found itself around your shoulders. Before you knew it, your lips were intertwined with each other's in your room, both of your shirts cast to the wayside, the rest of your clothes soon to follow.

I swear to myself as he leaves at dawn This will end, 'til he haunts me again

The sunlight was just starting to stream in through your window as you recounted what happened the previous night, remembering everything you did with Connor. You wanted to believe that he stayed this time, but you already know the truth. You didn't bother tuning over because you knew there was nothing to see on the other side of the bed.

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

Taglist: @houndsoforion, @jinniemyl0ve, @zoloft3

[takochan-writes]

Keep Searching, Honey - NoOutbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Pairing: No Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

W/C: 800

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff, kissing, grinding, allusion to sex (no sex actually happening)

A/N: -

It’s been a long night for you. You just got home from your friend's birthday party on the outskirts of town, and it’s almost midnight. You don’t really care that you're still wearing your skimpy skirt and tank top with a green plaid shirt from the party. You're too tired for a shower, and you have a headache from all the drinking you insisted on. You immediately head to your bedroom to rest, but when you open the door, you find Joel sitting on your bed, reading. Joel Miller, a decent man, used to live on a farm before he met you. You both decided to move to the city for a “better” life. Was it better for you? It is better for him, but he can't shake the feeling of wanting to return to the slow-paced farm life. You've been dating for two years now. He has a construction job that pays well, enough for both of you to live near a famous park in the city.

“Joel?”

“Oh, hey honey,” he says, closing his book and taking off his glasses. “How was the party?”

“Um… good, I guess… nothing much happened, actually,” you say with a shrug.

He chuckles. “Are you sure nothing MUCH happened? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror yet?”

“Oh, shut up. I drank some whiskey… that’s it,” you chuckle too, knowing he can see through your bullshit.

He chuckles again, then looks at you with a slightly worried expression. “Come here,” he says, gesturing for you to join him. You toss your sling bag aside and unbutton your plaid shirt, leaving you in just your tank top and skimpy white skirt.

“Wait a minute, hon. Could you please check the closet for my pen? I think I dropped it,” he asks, pointing to the closet behind you.

“Wha—Why don’t you… Fine,” you say with a pout. You comply easily because you've been a bit bratty to him all morning, struggling to find something to wear to the party.

You get down on your hands and knees to search for the pen. Joel watches you with a smirk. He didn’t actually drop his pen; he just wanted to admire you from behind, captivated by your beautiful figure. Unaware of this, you continue searching.

“Joel! Where is it? I don’t see any pen here,” you say, a little annoyed.

“Keep looking, hon. I’m sure I dropped it,” he says, laughing quietly. He just wanted to see you in that white skirt from behind. He didn’t want to annoy you too much, but a little payback from this morning wouldn't hurt, right?

Joel continues to admire you, finding you incredibly attractive in that position. Unable to resist any longer, he approaches you from behind, drops to his knees, and grabs your ass.

“Hey!” you exclaim, turning around to face him. “JOEL! WHAT THE HELL?!”

“Shhh… don’t pretend you don’t like it,” he says, spanking you lightly. “I know you’re tired right now. But how about I help you relax a bit? Besides, your little shenanigans this morning weren’t what I expected from you, don’t you think, sweetheart?” He places his hand on your ass again. “Do you need a reminder of who owns this ass?”

You groan in need, surprised by your own reaction. He’s right. You can't help but feel that being bratty to him this morning was your way of provoking him to fuck the sense out of you tonight. Or maybe it’s because you haven't spent time with him all day, you think. He spanks you again, a bit harder this time.

“You know… I didn’t drop a pen. I just wanted to look at your sexy ass…” he whispers in your ear, “because I miss you sooo much, hon.”

You shiver and press your ass back against him, feeling his erection already straining for attention.

“Someone’s needy,” he says with a groan, unable to help himself.

You know he’s smirking behind you. You turn around to face him fully and kiss him. You both know where this is heading. He slides a hand under your shirt, caressing and teasing the soft skin between your breasts. He picks you up and slowly pushes you onto the bed, crawling on top of you while still kissing you. You pull away to take off his shirt. He kisses your neck softly, then your collarbones, as you tug his shirt over his head. You pull him closer and start kissing along his jawline. When you reach his neck, you bite slightly and lick the skin there. His breath hitches in his throat, and he pulls your mouth back to his, kissing you passionately. After a while, he breaks away, panting heavily, then looks at you.

“Wait, I haven’t showered or anything. I’m a mess right now, Joel. Maybe let me shower first,” you say, even though you can already feel your wetness sticking to your underwear.

“I have a better idea… why don’t we both take a bath together, and I can fuck you there. Sounds good, honey? It sounds pretty fucking good to me,” he whispers in your ear, making you shiver.

“Shit… fuck it, let’s do it.”

[isleofair]

5 Favorite Characters

A game that dear @zimithrus1 tagged me in! Thank you so much!!! 💚💚💚

Rules: make a poll with 5 of your all-time favorite characters and tag 5 others to do the same! See who everyone's favorite is! 🎉

Oooh, boy, picking favorites is never easy for me... I know two for sure (no guesses who, lol), but let's see:

And to keep this fun game going, I'm tagging (but with no pressure, as always!): @nicoroni, @imaginatorofthings, @hearjessroar, @tempkiriri, @saltedpin, @seaofolives, @thekuraning, @horikoshi-secret-ao3-account and anyone else who wants to play! 💗 (Shhh, just... pretend this is 5 people, I'm making up for all those times I never directly tag anyone 😅)

[r44d]

JUSTYCE JUSTYCE

JUNIOOR / SENIOR FULTON PLEASE!

YAY YAY YAY!!!! Gonna be honest there’s a lot of bashslash here 😭 but shhh that’s okay

so I definitely think Fulton would be the guy to start experimenting with his look, and like honestly he would wait until he and the rest of the team wore down their teachers and stuff to the point they just don’t care anymore. They are tired. Like do whatever, just don’t bother me you know??

— in sophomore year he stopped dying his hair brown and let it grow out blonde, but then he’d probably do some color experimentation hehe (red with black roots, maybe blue). It’s also cut shorter now (a little bit longer than maybe adam or guy’s in d3. He has a lot of hair like 🤷‍♀️). But I’d say he would wear it up more if it was still long!

— he has a few piercings too, 100% a nose piercing (that matches Dean), maybe one ear, and possibly a navel piercing too. Either he or Dean have a a tongue piercing, idk who tho depends. (Shh pretend this isn’t me projecting the piercings I want done).

— he’s a drummer now!! (Or I should say, he actually owns his own set of drums now. Poor Fulton is real and canon bc I said so besides the point).

— literally everyday he’s in the school counselor’s office bc he’s in trouble (he didn’t do anything, the counselor just hates him). (He got in trouble for existing, cause of the way he looks / dresses. He’s wearing a band tee).

— pls see the stoner bash bros HC vision.

— he and Dean probably actively avoid the team more then they did before. They are tired of the team using them because they are big and strong, they need a break.

— can’t drive to save his life, will turn a 5 hour care ride into 2… perchance.

— works in the mall, at some clothing store or a record store. He gets averman in trouble a lot when he’s on his breaks. Does it on purpose. And 100% would give Dean discounts on anything he buys even though he’s not supposed to.

idk I can’t think of anymore right now, I MIGHT ADD MORE LATER if I do ill tag 😣🙏

[riahlynn101]

"Everything Will Be Okay (Eventually)."

Summary: Inspired by this scene from "Bridge to Terabithia," https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=876q4m1O408

Mike comes to terms with the fact that his brother is never coming home again. Slowly and painfully.

Trigger warnings: Implied/referenced kidnapping and murder, grief, guilt, and a child in distress.

This scene broke me as a kid, and I think it fits Mike's character (ironic considering both characters are played by Josh Hutcherson).

I will write something happy, eventually. I promise, but something about these siblings makes me want to write all the angst.

--

Mike stumbles out of the house, stopping just barely to slip his shoes on. He needs to leave. He needs to get out. He needs-

The houses pass by in a blur. Mike runs as fast as he can. The wind catches in his hair, blowing it off his tear-stained face. He doesn’t know where he’s going, or why he’s running. Only that he needs to get away. 

He runs several blocks down. A dead-end, where the street meets a forest. A simple metal sign warns off potential intruders. Mike climbs over it and continues running. 

The trees tower over him, blocking out the setting sun. It’s not completely dark, but it will be soon. Animals chatter, hiding in the trees and bushes. Their songs a background noise to his spiraling thoughts. 

His foot catches on a tree root, pulling him to the ground. He falls on his hands and knees. A dull pain radiates from his palms, mingling with the ache in his sides. His breaths come out faster. He heaves, using one of his skinned palms to pull at his shirt. 

Mike’s heart beats faster. It, too, hurts. 

Garrett and he used to play in these woods all the time. Any free time they had they were playing pretend here - tag and hide-and-seek and pirates and two people piloting a plane…...

Behind him, a stick cracks. 

Chest heaving, he pushes himself up. He needs to go. Someone is here. They’re going to hurt him. They’re going to take him. Just like they did to-

Mike forces himself into a sprint, pushing past the achy feeling in his body. The forest is darker now. It makes it hard to see. His mind is racing, thoughts scattered in a thousand different places. 

Whoever’s chasing him speeds up. Underbrush is kicked up, as he does everything in his power to go faster. Mike sucks in air, but it doesn’t help. More sticks break behind him. 

He imagines a huge, hulking monster with red eyes and large claws clamoring after him.

Last Halloween, he watched The Thing with his little brother. Not their smartest idea, as they both had nightmares for weeks on end afterwards. The monster’s true form is never revealed, but Mike’s mind had no problems coming up with what it thinks the monster looks like. A similar image of the movie monster pops into his head, pushing him to stay out of its claws. 

“Mike!” The monster calls out, sounding oddly familiar. But he won’t be fooled. 

Mike dashes further into the woods. It’s so dark now. He stops for a moment. Everything feels like it’s spinning. Faster and faster. He gulps down some air, looking around. From here, everything looks the same. He can’t tell where he came from. 

A hand clamps down on his shoulder. “Michael-”

He screams, loudly. 

So loud that the hand yanks itself away, only to come back a moment later to pull Mike closer. The monster shushes him. “Mikey, Mikey, it’s okay. Shhh…it’s okay.”

Mike opens his eyes. He looks up. “D-dad…?” All his previous fear vanishes. He collapses against his dad, who carefully kneels on the ground. A stern expression on his face. He holds Mike’s face in his hands.

“Mike, what are you doing out here? Your mother and I were worried sick..”

“I-I…” He can’t get the words to come out. 

“What?” His dad asks, sounding genuinely concerned. Which, for some reason, hurts worse than if they just blamed him for the whole thing. “Please, Mike, we just want to-”

“I’m sorry,” he finally says. Hot tears drip from his eyes. He sniffles, chest stuttering. 

“For what?” A thumb wipes at his tears, and his dad’s eyes soften just a touch. “What in the world are you saying sorry for?”

“For…I’m sorry….I…” He sobs, throwing himself at his dad’s chest. A hand cards through his hair. 

“Is this about your brother?”

He nods, fists clutching his dad’s jacket. Even if he doesn’t deserve it, Mike can’t bring himself to let go. One last lifeline. 

“Son, that wasn’t your fault.”

“But it was!” Mike insists, voice going up an octave or two. Snot and tears mix, making his neck feel all sticky and gross. His chest and throat ache from the force of his crying. “I…I should have been watching. It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault. It’s all my-”

His dad cuts him off. “Michael Schmidt, stop it!” 

Mike takes a shaky breath, letting his dad speak. His dad holds his chin in place with one hand, making sure that Mike hears him, fully and completely. 

“None of this, and I do mean none of this, is your fault. It’s not mine. It’s not your mother’s. And it is certainly, one hundred percent, not yours. Do you understand me?”

He sobs again, and his dad lets him go, letting Mike cling to him. “Why did they have to take Garrett!? Why my little brother!? Dad why!?” The words come out nearly unintelligible, mumbled and garbled by his sobs, but his dad seems to understand him anyway. 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, kissing the top of Mike’s head. “I have no idea.”

“I just want my brother back! I miss him so much! I want to play with my best friend again! It hurts so much! Why does it hurt so much!?”

His dad lightly hums, continuing to stroke his hair. “I don’t know.”

“I keep watching the door, hoping that he’ll come home. But-but he never does. Garrett’s not coming home, is he?” He asks in a strained voice. 

His dad stays quiet, and that’s all the answer that Mike needs.

For hours (though, in reality it’s probably an hour at most), his dad holds him in the middle of a quickly darkening forest. Mike wails. All the pent-up grief and sadness and anger at the entire situation, makes itself known. 

When he can’t muster up any more tears, Mike and his dad walk home in silence. His dad keeps a gentle hand on his shoulder the entire walk back, guiding and reassuring him that everything’s going to be okay. 

And it will be….

…. eventually….