#there are still a few things we need to know for everything to click into place concerning his family

[amelikos]

Gibeon and Amethio key frames.

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: '𝖫𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖱𝖾𝖽' ༄࿔ 𝖡.𝖢.

⤷ Size Kink | Stomach Bulge | Teratophilia (Wolf-Hybrid)

♱ word count: 1.8k

♱ warnings: fem!reader, Red Riding Hood reader x Wolf Hybrid Chan, I never specify body type but this has stomach bulge & Chris is described to be bigger than the reader so read at ur own discretion, size kink, teratophilia, knotting, kinda corruption?, bribery/coercing, lowkey kinda mean chris (everyone act surprised. Sian wrote mean dom), rough sex + big dick chris with no mentions of prep, biting, public sex? Its in a forest but nobody is around, 1 use of “good girl’

sorta proofread

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

“Tsk tsk tsk… You should know better than to be this far out in the woods, Red. You know this is my territory.”

“C-Chris! Listen… I’m really sorry but I need that plant over there. Grandma isn’t doing well and the only remedy that will help needs just a few of those flowers…” The tall man looks over his shoulder, eyeing the purple-colored flowers that you had pointed out.

“Hm… Okay, you can have a few.” The bright smile that grew on your face was almost enough to let you take it for free. Almost.

“Thank-” “On one condition.” 

“C’mon, sweet girl. You know I don’t do things for free~” His rough fingers stroked your cheek and he couldn’t help but grin as your smile dropped. The canines that peeked out from behind his plump lips were enough to bring you back to reality and remind you that he was in fact still a wolf hybrid and not so much your “friendly” neighbor.

“What exactly do you want…?” His grin seemed to get wider before he took his bottom lip between his teeth. A predatory glint took over his eyes as he slowly looked you up and down.

“I have something in mind…”

“Open the fuck up.”

His growl rumbles from deep within his chest and he thrusts his hips forward aggressively, causing you to cry out. Your thighs ache from the action, along with your swollen pussy thanks to the big dick that was currently tearing your insides up. You lost count after the first 5 inches, and now the seemingly never-ending length was quickly becoming too much for you.

He knew this all too well. But that didn’t stop him from forcing you and your little human body to take every last inch of his thick cock inside of you.

“C’mon Little Red, you can take it. You need to, remember?” He chuckles and pushes your thighs further apart. “You need those pretty little flowers, so you need to take my fucking cock.” His smile drops at the end of the sentence and he pulls out just to roughly thrust back inside. You moan out in surprise and his fingers dig further into your thighs, leaving crescent-shaped divots in your skin. 

“P-Please…” He clicks his tongue and leans forward more, shoving his face into your neck with another growl. With this, he manages to push another inch or two into your puffy hole, but your mind is so foggy that you don’t even notice it right away. The feeling of him breaching your walls so aggressively, all while he growls and huffs about how he needs to be all the way in for it to “count as payment” makes your head spin.

Even more so as a sob rips from your throat when he finally bottoms out. Your jaw drops and you squeal as his hips grind against yours, causing him to feel deeper all while he rubs against your G-Spot so perfectly. He throws his head back at the feeling of you completely wrapped around him and groans deeply when you clench subconsciously.

“There we go~ Good job, baby.” He licks a stripe up your neck before placing kisses all over it, letting you take a few seconds to breathe. He wasn’t that much of a brute- he did still care for you after all. Plus, what good is a new toy if you break it so early on!? So he takes a few seconds to himself, backing away and fixing his posture, allowing him to get a good look at you. And God do you look exquisite.

He licks his lips and looks over your body multiple times, doing everything in his power to burn this image of you into his head. He starts with your pretty lips, swollen and shiny with drool, and then your flushed cheeks that are wet from the fat tears that fall down them.

His eyes glance at your arms, smiling to himself at the army of goosebumps that have littered your skin as your body shakes deliciously with what he can’t decipher if it’s pleasure or pain. Your chest catches his eyes next; the way it heaves with each breath you take makes his chest swell with pride. But the thing that took the most of his attention, was the not-so-little bump on your tummy.

His lips were slightly parted and his breath was quickening as he lightly traced the outline of his dick. It’s at this point that he realizes just how large and wide he is compared to you. He’s always noticed- it’s quite hard not to. But when he has you like this, below him and completely at his mercy, he finally realizes just how much bigger he is. The sun only urges him further, casting a giant shadow over you that completely covers you and some of the ground you lay upon.

It makes his instincts go absolutely crazy and he can’t hold himself back from experimentally thrusting, moving at an angle that makes the bulge more prominent. The squeak you let out causes his eyes to flicker back up to your face, essentially snapping him out of the daze he was in. And when he meets your confused face looking up at him, he realizes how long he has been staring.

“Haha… Take a look at this, baby.” He wipes some of your tears and tilts your chin to help you look down. The desperate moan you let out sends his ego to the moon, causing him to twitch against your walls. He huffs out a laugh in disbelief and begins to move his hips, thrusting into you slowly yet roughly.

“I’m so deep… You feel that, baby?” His hand moves from your thigh and pushes down on your lower stomach, right on top of where the bulge popped out each time he bottomed out. “Fffuck.. ‘S my fat cock in your tummy?”

“God- Fuck, shut up Chris-” You clench tightly at his words despite your words and he ignores you in favor of picking up his pace, groaning when your walls flutter around him even more.

“You feel so fucking good. It’s almost like this pretty pussy was meant for me.” You swear you almost see his eyes roll into the back of his head, but he immediately brings your attention away by folding you in half. Pushing your knees to your chest and letting your ass hang in the air as he completely hovers over you, fucking into you with carnal need.

This new position makes you see stars and he uses it to his advantage, pounding into you and not allowing you time to think straight. He chases this brutal pace until your legs begin to ache, the pain of it overpowering the pleasure and making you hurriedly tap on his shoulder and push him back, “Fuck, wait- my legs.”

He huffs in annoyance but responds immediately, sitting up straight and allowing your legs to fall to his sides. His hips continue to thrust shallowly as you breathe deeply and try to rub the ache away, but this break doesn’t last long. You owe him payment, and he wants it now.

So he pulls out, opting to quickly flip you onto your knees and push your chest into the ground. You’re given no time to object before he’s shoving his entire length back inside with a groan. Your body shakes at the feeling of being absolutely filled to the brim. The back of your throat even itches as if his tip was poking it. And god, did it genuinely feel like that.

It’s not hard for him to find his previous pace, especially now that you’re seemingly more pliant for him. The only disobedient action from you is your cries for him to slow down, but he has no plans to. Not when you look absolutely ruined below him.

He shushes you and leans forward, holding you down with his chest against your back as he continues to fuck you as if his life depends on it.

“Shhhhh… It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re gonna be good and take it right? You're gonna let the big bad wolf fuck your brains out? Yea?” Your fingers dig into the ground and you nod as best as you can with your cheek shoved against the floor.

He’s unhappy with the silent answer and bares his teeth, sinking them into your shoulder with a growl to “Use your words.”

“Y-Yes! Please, Chris!”

“Goood girl. Just sit there and take this fucking dick. Let Wolfy use you like the good chew toy you are.” The new name makes you clench tightly around him and he groans as you cum, causing the squelching noises to become even louder. He moans and nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving small kisses before he chomps down again.

The overstimulation is starting to hit and you cry out, desperately pushing against the ground in hopes of pushing your torso up and off the floor. But that’s not what good toys do. So he growls against your neck and pushes you down, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to keep you in place as he fixes his posture.

“No. You’re gonna sit still. Good toys don’t fucking move. I can’t knot you if you’re misbehaving.” As if to prove his point, his other hand digs into your waist, holding you even more still as he rams into you.

Thanks to his thick tip incessantly knocking into your cervix, you don’t process what he says right away. At least, not until you feel an extra mass pushing against your swollen folds. “W-Wait, your knot?!?”

You hear his earrings jingle as he tilts his head and you can almost hear the shit-eating grin on his face as he mocks you. “Yes, my knot. You’re gonna take it inside of this tight. little. cunt. And you’re going to take every last drop of my cum.” You go to disagree but your body reacts on its own, clenching around him and trying to suck him in impossibly deeper.

“F-Fuck- feels like you do like that idea, baby.” He grits his teeth and starts to focus on sharp thrusts. Once his knot finally breaches your hole, you sob into your arm and bite into it to hold back a scream.

He whines and grinds into you, rubbing against your G-spot roughly as he pushes himself over the edge. You can feel his breath on your neck, heavy and heaving as he pumps you full of his seed. His body shakes with each spurt of cum he releases, and the overwhelming movements are enough to push you over the edge again; the needy grinding from him mixed with the mind-numbing feeling of being overfilled, yet forced to hold every last bit, pushing you towards another orgasm.

“Mmmm… Hold it there, yeah? Keep my pups nice and safe in their new home, and I’ll let you take as many plants as you want. Deal, Little Red?”

Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : you are Spencer Reid's roommate, the team finds out about you when a case brings them to the university you study at word count : 2.5k warning : canon-typical violence A/N : the university is a random one I picked in Virginia, bear with me because I don't know how US university systems work, thanks :) I think this is a part one, there may be a part two or even more, idk, but tell me what you think !

part 2, part 3, part 4

"I- I'm sorry, what university did you say?" Spencer's frantic tone was immediately noticed by his colleagues. Suddenly, he seemed hyperaware of everything in the room. The loud AC, Derek's pen-clicking and the overwhelming smell of Emily's coffee. "Mary Washington University," JJ answered swiftly, eyes narrowed as she sent Reid a confused glance. The man in question mumbled a few words under his breath and shot up, grabbing his coat and scarf. "We need to go." His tone, unusually urgent, left no space for debate or questioning. He was out the door within seconds, followed closely by Morgan and the others.

When you'd applied for Mary Washington University, you had known you would have to get an apartment. You lived too far away to even consider taking the numerous trains and buses and subways to get there. So, when you had been accepted into your first choice of universities, you'd started apartment hunting. Or roommate-hunting, to be more precise.

To say you had been unlucky would have been quite the understatement. You'd visited four apartments so far and could not even consider living in one of them for a second. The first had been full of frat boys who made your skin crawl, the second was with an old, far right-wing couple, the third had been two sisters who'd yelled at each other for the whole time you were there and the fourth had been so crowded your were certain it was neither sanitary not legal for another person to live there. With the deadline of university starting and having to move all your things, you were starting to get quite anxious. But call it chance or fate, one day you stumbled upon an advertisement for an apartment in a nice neighbourhood with one person who seemed quite normal. This person was a state-employee (which meant a stable salary and that meant you wouldn't have to compensate for rent) who travelled often for work and liked to keep mostly to themselves. Not one for big parties, they preferred a night-in and rarely had people over.

So you'd put on your big-girl pants and had walked over to what you hoped would be your last apartment visit. You hadn't been expecting such a young person to open the door because of the way the advert had been written and because of what it said. "Hi, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid." You noticed he didn't hold his hand out and mirrored his behaviour. "Hi! I'm here for a visit!" You introduced yourself somewhat shyly, feeling intimidated. This man was at the most five years older than you and he was already a doctor?

He showed you around the apartment, which you liked very much. The rooms smelled like books and tea and everything was kept very clean. On the whole, it was tidy, even if a few books or articles were stacked in some odd places. The bedroom you'd stay in was large and luminous. After the tour, he made you a cup of tea as you discussed formalities.

"Uh, so, you’re a student, right?" he'd asked politely as he added a worrying amount of sugar in his earl grey. You bit back a teasing jest. You hoped maybe one day you'd get to place where you could comment on his daily sugar intake. "Yeah, um, I'm studying English Literature and Cinema." You stirred your tea, looking around the kitchen. Even though it was painted a dark, forest green, it still seemed luminous in the afternoon sun. "Oh, that's super interesting! I’ve always found texts in Middle English particularly insightful! I- I read the Canterbury Tales when I was about 10 years old. It’s fascinating the way in which issues which were already current then are still very present today, like in the Wife of Bath’s tale, for example-“

He cut himself off, leaning back into the couch. He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks dusted pink. “Sorry, you probably don’t want me to ramble about what you already know.” “No, I think it’s amazing that you would know that, actually. What else did you like in the Wife of Bath’s tale?” Spencer seemed to brighten up at your words and thus ensued a lengthy discussion of the avant-garde themes evoked by Geoffrey Chaucer. You were fascinated by his knowledge and found his passion especially endearing. Lots of your professors weren’t even that passionate when talking of late 14th century literature.

After discussing rent, which you would afford by waitressing at a local bar, lightly touching upon political subjects (on which you seemed to agree on), he finally told you that he was an FBI agent. "Excuse me?" you spluttered, leaning backwards in shock. "I'm a profiler with the BAU, the Behavioural Analysis Unit. I can show you my badge if you want." He stood up and reached for his bag, but you stopped him in his tracks. "No, no, that's okay, I believe you. I'm just surprised, that's all, sorry." His expansive knowledge of so many things seemed fitting for an agent of the BAU. After realising you were the first person who didn't demand his badge as proof of his profession, Spencer granted you a small smile. "You don't need to apologise. I- I know it can be a bit... off-putting." He sat back down and looked you in the eye. "Is that a problem for you, living with a federal agent?"

You thought about it for a second. As a general rule, you weren't a big fan of cops. Even more generally, you didn't believe in the structure of today's society. But that was a big topic. Plus, a profiler wasn't really a cop, was he? "No, that's not a problem for me."

You'd moved in a month and a half later. Things had been slightly awkward at first and you'd had to figure out what kind of dynamic Spencer and you had. But eventually, you’d found your rhythm.

When Spencer left for work, you took care of his plants and sent him pictures of Geoffrey. Geoffrey was the cat you’d found on the street and taken in. He was named after Geoffrey Chaucer, author of the Canterbury Tales, your first common point of interest. Spencer had been reluctant at first, but you’d taken him to the vet, where he was tested and vaccinated, and the man had finally accepted him into your shared space. Now, he loved the little creature. Sometimes, you’d call him to ask how he was doing and whether he was safe. He’d always reply that yes, he was doing fine and no, he wasn’t in any danger, don’t you worry. He’d ask how you were doing and if you were staying on top of uni work and if you’d eaten and if Geoffrey wasn't being too annoying. As an orange cat, he had his particular tendencies.

When Spencer was at home, you'd always look forward to getting back from class. There was always that sense of comfort and ease when he was around. You had found a lovely routine quite easily. You'd both work or study, then cook, eat together and afterwards maybe you'd watch a movie or something. You were at a point where you could comment on his daily sugar intake, which he's started correcting since meeting you. He loved the Big Bang Theory and though you weren't such a fan, you loved the little laughs he let out and all the corrections he'd make. In general, you liked when he talked. Even more generally, you liked him. You also liked Friends and though Ross got on Spencer's nerves, he enjoyed being able to discuss it with you afterwards. The two of you got very close without even noticing.

Sometimes, you'd remember he wasn't just your roommate, but also a man. He'd make you a cup of tea and you'd stare at his hands a little too long while he stirred the honey in. Or he'd help you reach for a cup with his impressive height, his front just skimming your back with a shiver. He'd tell you to breathe and sit down when you were upset about something. A few times, he drove you home from a night out with your friends and laid his hand on your knee. He was the only one who remembered how you'd told him you wanted to kiss him.

With you, Spencer discovered many things he had never experienced before. A healthy, comforting and peaceful routine. A supporting, non-judgemental, healthy friendship. Easy laughter in the middle of the night and tired "good morning"s at dawn. Butterflies in his stomach whenever you touched him. A budding romance which kept him awake at night.

So when that was threatened, he just about lost it.

"Oh my God." "I can't believe this." "Is this a prank?" "Did someone call 911?" "What about her parents?" "Oh, that's sick."

Voices swarmed around your head, making you dizzy. Your hand rested over your mouth as you stared at the body strewn on the lawn. Much of the student body stood next to you, just as shocked. Mary Goldman had been her name. You'd crossed her just this morning in the main hall and had exchanged small smiles. You had thought that she looked really pretty today, but hadn't told her. You regretted that now. At the moment, her mascara had run down her cheeks and dried and her lipstick and been smudged. Bruises and cuts decorated her bare arms and legs and a big red stain sat on the side of her stomach. The contrast between her dead body and the green, thriving grass beneath her was haunting.

You turned away, feeling sick. You felt your friend's hand on your shoulder, a small source of comfort anchoring you to reality. Facing the road as you turned, you were surprised to see three big black SUVs speeding towards the crowd. You'd been expecting an ambulance, or cops. Not whoever these guys were. They screeched to a stop, drawing everyone's attention. A small dozen of people stormed out, all dressed differently though they all held the same aura of importance, knowledge and authority. You turned back to your friends. "Who are these-"

You stopped mid-sentence when you heard your name being called out urgently. You'd have recognised his voice amidst a thousand others. He spoke your name like no other. You frantically looked around, pushing your way to the large vehicles. When you finally spotted him, tears started pricking your eyes. "Spencer," you breathed in a half-sob. His eyes ran you over once, twice, assessing any damage. When he saw there was no physical wound, his shoulders sank in relief. He opened his arms and you rushed inside his warm embrace almost reflexively. Neither of you noticed the numerous pair of curious eyes observing your intimate exchange.

"Oh my God, Spence- What- What are you doing here?" you'd cried into his cardigan. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling the comforting scent he always bore. He wrapped an arm around your waist and another around your shoulders, holding the back of your head in a consoling manner. "We're- We're taking this on as a case, sweets. Are you all right?" He knew it was a stupid question but all the emotions and tension were barely wearing off and he didn't know what else to say. You pulled away but he kept you at arm's length, holding your cold, shaking hands in his warm, steady ones. "I- Yeah, it's just- I- I saw her this morning! How could she- Why would someone do this to her? To- to anyone?!" Spencer cooed and pulled you into another tight hug as you continued to ramble through your tears. When you'd eventually calmed down thanks to his words of reassurance, he pulled away softly.

Spencer understood what you meant perhaps more than anyone. The sadness, the shock, the anger, the need to understand. He gently wiped away the mascara under your eyes with his thumb. "I know, I- It's- Even I don't always understand, sweetheart, so don't- Why don't you go home? I'd come with you but-" You nodded, biting your lower lip. He gave you a sad smile. "I promise I'll join you as soon as this is over. You- you can make yourself a cup of tea and process all this and pet Geoffrey, okay? Classes are going to be cancelled either way." "I don't want to-" The look in his eyes kept you from arguing further. You nodded, giving him another hug. Before you left, an older man came over to you.

"I'm sorry to bother you, miss. I'm Agent David Rossi. I just had a question-" "Rossi," interrupted Spencer with a stern tone you'd never heard before. The older Agent raised an eyebrow at him. "Just one question." He turned back to you. "At what time did you say you saw the victim?" You inhaled shakily, running a hand over your face. "Uh, it must have been around quarter to eleven. I think- Yeah, somewhere between ten thirty and eleven." "Thank you, miss." You didn't miss the glance shared between the two men before Rossi retreated.

"Who was that?" asked Emily as soon as you'd left and Spencer had joined them behind the police tape. "No one," Spencer brushed her off as he kneeled next to the victim. Strangely, he hated the idea of someone who knew you dying. It felt too close to home. "C'mon, man, you lost your shit this morning, a girl you clearly know very well runs into your arms, you snap at Rossi and you expect us to believe you?" Derek raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. Spencer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up at the rest of the team. All were staring at him patiently. He stood up, swallowing.

"That was my roommate." He informed the team of your name and of how you'd been living together for a few years now. "Spencer, you've been living with a woman for years and you've never told us?!" Derek was all but hysteric. Hotch reminded him that everyone was entitled to a private life. "So, are you dating or something?" Emily prodded again. Spencer hesitated a second before answering. "No." Derek scoffed, appalled. "You mean to tell me you've been living with a beautiful woman like that for years and nothing's ever happened?!" "Not everyone is like you, Morgan," Emily reminded with a teasing smirk. Derek sent her an unimpressed look. "Look, let's all grill Spencer later, we have a case to focus on right now." Rossi, ever the voice of reason, directed everyone's attention back to the corpse laying next to them.

Needless to say, the BAU team did not need to interrogate Spencer or attack him with incessant questions to find much out. They'd seen by his behaviour that very morning how much he cared about you. They'd seen how relieved he had been when he'd seen you safe and sound. They'd noticed you'd only started crying when you'd seen him, a big sign of trust. They had never heard him call another by pet names such as "sweets" or "sweetheart". They'd read both of your body languages like a children's book and translated it easily.

Love. Comfort. Peace. Ease.

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race

୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all—you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.

You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.

It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.

“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”

“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”

His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”

The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.

“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”

You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.

When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.

Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”

You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”

Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”

You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”

Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”

Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.

“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”

Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.

The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.

But then it happened.

It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.

Your heart stopped.

The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”

Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.

“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.

Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.

When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.

“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.

You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.

You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.

“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”

It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.

And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?

You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.

Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[gloomwitchwrites]

thinking about the 141 when you get nipple piercings and they can’t touch your nipples for four months

For clarity, I do not have my nipples pierced. Don't ever plan on it, but we can imagine that we did and what the guys think. I did do a little research, and I saw a wide variety of healing times, so instead of four months, I kept any mention of the healing process vague. The concept is the same though. I had a lot of fun with this one y'all. Enjoy it. :)

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Presented in four double drabbles.

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, brief dirty talk, suggestive themes, swearing, fade to black

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

"You're not putting a shirt on."

“What are you talking about?”

“We’re at home. And I want to see them.”

“I’m putting a shirt on,”

John is quick, snatching the shirt out of your grasp. You start to protest, but John tosses it onto the highest shelf in the closet.

“You’re childish.” You gesture at the rest of the shirts on hangers. “And I have other shirts!”

John shrugs. “I’ll hide them all.”

"I fucking swear, John."

"Or tear them all up."

You smack his chest but John only chuckles. He’s having a go at you. A laugh.

"If I can't touch them, then I bloody well better be able to see them."

"You're ridiculous."

John carefully caresses a nearby path of skin near the piercing. "You got them for me," he purrs. "And I want to see them on display at all times." His hand settles on your waist, drawing you in. He leans in, lips lightly pressed to your ear. “Especially when my head is between your legs.”

Heat rapidly warms your neck, heading for your cheeks. John notices your sudden flustered demeanor.

“That sound good to you, love?”

You nod, and John guides you to the bed.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"I can't touch them?" asks Kyle, sounding disappointed.

"Nope."

"Not at all?”

“Eventually. But not right now.”

Kyle frowns at your chest, his gaze on the shiny metal. "Do they hurt?"

You wince slightly. "Mostly sore. The pain killers help."

Kyle nods and then glances up at your face. "How do you care for them?"

You rattle off a list of things and then hand him the paper the piercer gave you. Kyle takes it, looking it over as you go over everything, repeating it verbatim.

The small frown on his face turns into an upward smirk. "I can help with this,” he says, voice almost sultry.

"You can," you say slowly, taking the paper and placing it on the counter.

"So I can touch them. If I help.”

"Not in the way you're thinking, Kyle," you scold, knowing exactly where his mind is drifting off to.

"But I still get to touch them?"

"Only to help me,” you correct. “Not for any other reason.”

He sighs, voice a little breathy as he speaks to himself. “I can wait to suck on those gorgeous nipples.”

“Kyle Garrick! I heard that!”

He snags the paper off the counter, hiding his grin.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“You’re having a laugh.”

“Am I?”

"I can't touch them?"

"Nope."

"Not even a little bit?"

"No, Johnny. Not even a little bit."

Johnny lays on his side facing you with one elbow propped under him. He rests his head in his hand. Johnny’s gaze is locked on to your bare chest and the new metal there. The piercings are only a few days old, and they’re fucking sore.

"They're sensitive right now," you continue, wincing slightly when you move, adjusting the way you recline on the bed.

"Aye. I see," he murmurs, leaning closer, gaze narrowing as he focuses on your new piercings. The middle of his brow creases as if he's intensely considering something.

"What is it?" you ask. "You look very serious."

Johnny's gaze doesn't leave your chest. "I'm thinking about all the ways I'm going to play with those beauties."

Heat rushes to your face. “Be fucking for real right now.”

His mouth morphs into a sly smile. Johnny’s gaze shifts from your chest to your face. “Need a distraction?”

“What are you on about?”

Johnny shifts, forcing your legs open as he slots between them. “A distraction,” he purrs. “From your soreness. And my thoughts.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon stands behind you, watching you in the bathroom mirror from over your shoulder.

"Do you need help?" he asks, gaze unmoving.

"I'm fine, Simon."

He is quiet a moment before he speaks again. "I can’t touch them?"

"Not for a month. Possibly more. Healing is different for everyone."

You hear his annoyed grunt but his gaze doesn't leave you. It remains firmly planted on your newly pierced nipples.

"How sensitive are you?" he asks, taking a tiny step closer. Simon’s hand rests on your waist as you gently clean around the piercing.

"I’m sore. Nothing terrible."

Simon's head dips, lips pressing to your neck as his arms drape around you. "I can't touch them." It’s not a question, more like he’s speaking to himself.

"Nope,” you murmur.

Simon’s sigh has a hint of a growl in it. "Just means I'll have to give extra attention to everything else." His hands descend, and you bite back a groan as he touches you.

Simon's lips press to your ear. "I'll give you attention everywhere.” One hand comes up to trace a line near the piercing. “Except here.” His hand drops away, returns to between your legs. “You’ll be begging for me.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

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@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[connorsui]

In Your Arms

Zayne x reader

Genre/warnings: pure fluff, boyfriend zayne wanting peace and you give it, manz wanna make u a wife, no warnings we don't die around here...

Synopsis: Zayne finds solace in the warmth of your presence amidst the chaos of his demanding career, and silently, he cherishes every moment, hoping one day to make your bond official

Note: I wanted doctor zayne to cure my heart ....so I made doctor zayne want to make me a wife ...

w.c: 1,070

Zayne’s footsteps echoed softly in the sterile, dimly lit hospital corridor, his mind still entangled in the complexities of the latest surgery he’d performed. His shoulders were tense, a slight frown creasing his usually composed expression as he made his way out of the building. It had been another long day, filled with the kind of high-stakes decisions that most people couldn’t fathom. But as soon as he saw you waiting for him by the entrance, your face lighting up at the sight of him, something in him softened.

The sight of you there, with your soft smile and eyes that sparkled just for him, made the world tilt back into place. The weight of the day fell away, and for a moment, he allowed himself to simply bask in the warmth of your presence. He didn’t need to say anything; the way his eyes lingered on you, tracing the curve of your lips and the gentle slope of your shoulders, spoke volumes.

“Hi, Love! ” you greeted him, your voice a gentle balm to his frayed nerves.

“Hello, Sweetheart” he replied, his tone low and warm, the single word carrying a weight of unspoken affection. His hands itched to reach out, to pull you into his arms right there in front of everyone, but Zayne had always been careful with his emotions, especially in public. Instead, he settled for a small, almost imperceptible smile that you had come to recognize as his version of a bear hug.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the soft rustle of your clothing the only sound in the quiet night air. It wasn’t until you were inside his car, the doors closed, and the world shut out, that he allowed himself the luxury of touch. His hand reached out, fingers lightly grazing yours before he intertwined them, the simple gesture grounding him in a way nothing else could.

“I would like to first apologize to you …” he murmured after a few minutes, his voice laced with the kind of guilt that came from too many late nights and missed dinners.

Surprised; you questioned. “What for exactly?”

“I just know I haven’t been around much.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, offering him a soft, understanding smile. “Zayne, It's alright… I know you’re doing everything you can…But…let's focus on the now.. is there anything I can do to make your night better?”

He turned his head to look at you, his gaze searching your face for any sign of fatigue or frustration. Instead, he found only warmth and concern, your eyes silently urging him to let you take care of him for once. The tension in his chest eased a fraction, and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Just being with you makes everything better,” he admitted, his voice rough with the weight of the day. “I don’t need anything else… just you.”

The ride to his apartment was filled with quiet conversation, the kind that flowed easily between two people who were entirely comfortable with each other. When you arrived, Zayne wasted no time pulling you close as soon as the door clicked shut behind you. His arms wrapped around you, his head resting on your chest as he exhaled deeply, finally allowing himself to relax.

“You’re so tense,” you murmured, your fingers instinctively threading through his hair, the familiar motion soothing both of you. “Why don’t you let me run you a bath? Or make you some tea?”

He tightened his hold on you, shaking his head slightly as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “No, just… this is what I need. You’re what I need.”

The way he clung to you, as if letting go would mean losing the one thing keeping him grounded, made your heart ache with a mix of love and concern. He was always so strong, so capable, but even Zayne had his limits, and you could see that he’d reached them tonight.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” you suggested softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “You deserve to rest.”

He nodded against you, and you led him to his bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over the room. Zayne moved with a quiet grace, his every action deliberate as he turned to face you, his hands settling on your waist.

“I’m sorry I’m not more… put together tonight,” he murmured, his eyes heavy with exhaustion as he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours.

“You don’t have to be anything other than yourself with me,” you whispered back, your hands coming up to cup his face. “I love you just as you are, Zayne.”

His breath hitched slightly at your words, and he pressed his lips to yours in a slow, lingering kiss that made your heart swell with emotion. There was no rush, no urgency—just the deep, abiding love that had grown between you over time, steady and unshakable.

When he pulled back, his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his eyes meeting yours in silent question. You nodded, and he carefully lifted your shirt over your head, his hands warm against your skin as he undressed you with the same precision he used in surgery.

Once you were both stripped down; Zayne pulled you into bed, his arms wrapping around you as he settled you against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, a comforting rhythm beneath your ear as you laid together in the quiet.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his lips brushing the top of your head.

“It’s perfect,” you whispered back, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.

Zayne smiled against your hair, his hold on you tightening slightly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. In that moment, with you wrapped up in his arms, he felt complete, as if all the pieces of his life had finally fallen into place.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “ — to be here with you… it’s all I need.”

You nestled closer, your heart swelling with love for the man who had given so much of himself to others, yet asked for so little in return. “I’m here, Zayne. I’m always here.”

As you drifted off to sleep, Zayne couldn’t help but think about how much he wanted this—wanted you—every day for the rest of his life. And one day, he would make that dream a reality. But for now, he was content to hold you close, savoring the warmth of your body against his as he followed you into sleep.

Doctor zayne with a need for you is the only man I will ever need

[classyrbf]

THE MAN I USED TO KNOW! #2 — SUGURU GETO

SYNOPSIS...you feel suguru has grown distant your relationship, leaving you lonely and confused, so when you confront him in hopes to find reassurance, you find out the worst instead

INFO...geto x fem!reader, angst, mentions of cheating, mentions of breakup, arguing in public, no comfort, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

part 1

It’s been a month since you left the apartment. A month since he’s last heard your voice. A month since he’s last seen you. He can’t tell what’s so different now, what makes him feel like he suddenly cares about you and how things ended. In his mind it doesn’t make any sense. How could someone be said he fell out of love with, cheated on, suddenly be plaguing his heart like a disease. You were hard to get rid of.

He stays up at night, staring up at the ceiling after trying hours and hours to fall asleep, only to fail. The house is so quiet you could hear a pin drop and the bed feels so empty and cold. Not a sound could be heard, not your small breaths as you slept, or your touch when you cuddled against him in the night because you wanted to feel loved by him.

He twisted and turned in the bed, flipping over to your side, staring at the pillow. He swears he could smell your perfume faintly on the fabric, but that could be his mind playing tricks on him. It’s been doing that ever since. Dinner was always takeout, never the warm home cooked meals that you always had prepared. He was starting to get sick of the taste, opting out of eating in general because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t replicate your cooking.

A deep sigh leaves his lips as he sit up, feet planting on the hardwood floor. His phone rings loudly, illuminating the dark room. He slowly turns his head, looking at the caller ID. It was the woman who he threw everything away for temporary pleasure. He’d been ignoring her calls ever since that day and he doesn’t know what overcame him, but he decided to finally pick up the call. “Hello?” He answered, voice scruffy and gravely.

“Suguru! Finally you pick up! Why have you been ignoring my texts and calls?” She asked frantically.

He rolled his eyes, shutting them. “It’s the middle of the night can we not do this?” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

“Is it because of her? Are you two still together? I thought you said you were going to end things with her eventually? What changed?” She was asking question after question which only made him more irritated than he already was. “I miss you, Sugu,” she pouted.

The nickname made him wince, reminding him of how gently you used to call his name. “I need to go.” He abruptly hung up the call. His thumb hovered over his screen, pressing on his messages and scrolling to find your name. His jaw clenched at the sight of the contact name he had for you, forgetting to change it.

“My girl” it read.

He clicked on the contact, eyes scanning over the last messages that were sent. It was the day he told you, the day it all fell apart.

Geto: might be a little late for dinner

My girl: no worries, I’ll keep it warm :)

Even when you were falling apart you always treated him with kindness. It was never about the arguments, not with you. Yeah, sure you’d fight with each other, screaming matches back and forth. But, that’s normal in a relationship. Sometimes things lead to disagreements. It’s only when he took it too far, grew distant, fell out of love, cheated, while you were at home, waiting for him each and every night.

“Fuck,” he whispers under his breath, contemplating to text you. He stares at the screen for a few more seconds before deciding to close his phone, placing it back down on the nightstand.

The smell of fresh brewed coffee filled the air, a quiet atmosphere settled around you as you sat at a small table, scrolling through social media. It was a cold early morning, soft snow flurries fell from the cloudy sky and painted the ground in a blinding white. It was the perfect day to relax in a cozy coffee shop and enjoy yourself, something you haven’t done in a long time.

From time to time, your brain wanders to that night you found out Suguru was cheating on you. It still makes your heart twinge, an odd feeling in your chest. You’d cry countless times in one day, wondering what it was that you did, how you could have been better. There were so many questions that you still had to ask, but you weren’t sure if you wanted answers. Sometimes ignorance is bliss. You’d think about them, wondering if Suguru and whoever the woman he was seeing were now happy together, living in the apartment that you once shared with him.

You sipped on your coffee, the hot liquid trickling down your throat. The cold breeze from the outside blew into the coffee shop as the door opened for a few seconds, the bell above letting out a high pitched ding.

“Morning, could I small latte, please?” The familiar voice made your body freeze in place, eyebrows raising in slight shock. Lifting your head, you seen the familiar long, black, silky hair. Quickly, you looked away, scrolling on your phone. The longer you looked at him, the more afraid you’d threaten to break down in tears, maybe even scream at him. “Thank you,” he softly spoke.

It felt like time froze, the more you sat here, the harder it felt to get up. Did he already see you? Maybe he’s ignoring you too? While your thoughts were telling you one thing, trying to convince you of some other reality, you could feel eyes burning into your skull. You didn’t dare turn around to see if he was looking at you. With flared nostrils, you inhaled deeply, clearly your throat to rid of the awkwardness, mindlessly scrolling on your phone to make it look like you were busy.

It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it anymore. As soon as the barista called for his coffee, you were quick to stand from your seat, grabbing your wallet and coffee off the table and making a dash for the door. The cold winter breeze hit your skin as soon as you stepped out, a cold chill sending down your spine.

“Y/n.” You halted in your tracks at the sound of your name. With closed eyes, you let out a deep sigh. Do you keep walking? Do you turn around and face him? Would you be able to keep your composure for even a second if your eyes meet his?

The snow under your feet stuck to your boots, heels twisting into the ground. You were now facing him. It felt like every memory that you shared with him came flashing back in an instant—good and bad. Your heart felt conflicted, knowing you still had time to walk away. His mouth partially opened like he wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came out. He looked defeated, stuck in place. His eyes could do nothing but scan your features, search for any hint that you were felt the same for him like he felt for you. But he highly doubts that. “How have you been?” He asked.

Clenching your jaw, you narrowed your eyes at him, stuffing your hands into your pockets. “Fine.” You shrugged. Your tone was bitter and cold, one that he wasn’t familiar with. There you both stood in the middle of the sidewalk, snowflakes kissing your skin, stinging your cheeks. “What do you want, Geto?”

The use of his last name makes his heart sink into his stomach, a weird feeling in his chest. He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head with pinched brows. “I…I don’t know,” he said barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t get to say you’re sorry when you don’t mean it. You’re only saying it because you got caught. I don’t think you understand what you did. At all.” Surprisingly, your voice was calm and composed compared to the last time you spoke with him. It was hard not to lash out, but you knew it wouldn’t make you feel any better than you already did. “I loved you, Geto. It’s sad that you didn’t realize that sooner. Look,” you step closer to him, “I don’t know where our relationship took such a turn, I don’t know the exact moment you fell out of love, but I genuinely hope you find someone who is worth your time.” You softly smiled.

“You were worth my time!” He said with desperation, almost like he was begging.

“No, I wasn’t. And it’s fine, I accept that.” You nod your head at him. “You can feel regret, you can change your mind, but you can’t undo what you did,” you state.

“I miss you, y/n, so fucking much. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. All I ever think about is you, how I hurt you, brushed you aside—”

“Just stop, please. Nothing is going to change my mind, no matter what you say.” You chew on your bottom lip, a look of sincerity in your eyes.

“No, don’t say that. Come on. Please,” he begs, watery eyes looking at you.

“Let me go, Geto. It’s best for the both of us.” You felt your eyes sting with tears, your vision blurry as you tried your hardest to hold them back. You didn’t want him to see you cry again, he didn’t deserve it.

“What if I don’t want to? What if I can’t?” He had a pained expression on his face, closing the distance between you two. It’s the closest he’s been able to get you, the closest he’s felt to you in long time. He doesn’t mean physically, he means emotionally, mentally. It shouldn’t be under these circumstances, not when he’s ripped your heart in two. It should be when he’s holding you at home, his lips on yours as he tells you how much he loves you, because he does love you. He realized it when you walked out that door.

“Then I’ll make the decision for you.” You turned away from him beginning to walk away, the cold wing hitting your skin, your eyes burning.

Geto pulled you back by your hand, your touch warm and soft in his. “I’m not letting you walk away again.”

“Let me go, Geto—”

“I love you, y/n. I need you. I wanna feel your love again, your warmth, your laughs, I want it all.” His grip grew tighter, a tear falling from his eye as he stared at you. A frown formed on his face, the tears he was holding back all this time came rushing out.

“You didn’t want it then. What makes you think you deserve it now? Huh? Now you know how it feels.” Your tone was harsh, like sending daggers straight into his heart. You snatched your hand from his. “You cheated over a petty argument, not once, not twice, but several times you’d meet up with her, lie to my face! Do you know what went through my head? How disgusted I felt with myself? I was questioning my worth, wondering if I was enough for anyone! I shouldn’t fucking feel like that!” You pushed him, hot tears warming your cold cheeks. “Leave me alone! Please! Just do this one thing for me.” You sniffled, your feet moving before you could think, walking away from him.

Once more, he watched you slip away, your figure disappearing into the snow. He swallowed thickly, looking down at the cup of fresh coffee he had yet to take a sip from. He tossed it. The content spilling on spilling on the ground and staining the glistening snow. He no longer had an appetite for anything anymore. The pit inside his chest grew larger, sucking him in like a black hole.

He stood there for what felt like minutes, hoping, waiting to see you walking towards him again. But the wind just howled loudly and the cars drove past without a care in the world. Everyone has their own lives to live, their own stories. Though, in his story, he’d live with regret, guilt, and shame until the very end. Even if he does manage to find someone else, love someone else, live his life to the fullest, just know you’d always be in back of his mind as a reminder of every horrible thing about himself.

[enhard]

sim jaeyun — “you’re in safe hands”

pairing: s.jy x fem!reader

not proofread, enjoy! (MINORS DNI)

: you can’t handle looking at your boyfriend’s nice and veiny hands without doing anything about it.

cw: SMUT SMUT ALLLL SMUT, everything is consensual, hand kink (obviously), a bit of size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, riding, jake calls you princess most of the time, playing with your tits, slight choking, mentions of sending nudes??, lots of whimpers from him, jake slaps your mouth, established relationship, jake has a drivers license woahwoahwoah

—————————-⋆｡°✩ ✮⋆˙—————————

you faintly hear the ringtone of your phone through the buzzing in your ear. you slowly open your eyes, let out a sigh and immediately grab your phone to stop that annoying sound.. until you look at the now lit up screen of your phone, that your boyfriend jake is calling you.

you quickly sit up in shock, trying to clear your throat and answering the call, remembering that you were supposed to go on a date today.

“mm..yes my love? how are.. you?” you say, trying your best not to yawn in the middle of your sentence.

you can hear jake laughing at you through the other line. “princess, you’re still sleeping at this hour? i’m sorry for waking you up but.. it’s 4 pm already.” wait.. what?? 4 pm?? you were supposed to meet up 3 hours ago. how is it possible that you slept this long?

“don’t worry.. sunoo told me that he tried calling you since morning and you never answered, so i just let you sleep. instead of lunch.. could we go out to dinner now..?”

“ugh..fuck.. i’m sorry. i didn’t realise i slept that long.. is it okay in 3 hours..? i need to shower..” you reply as you’re massaging your head from the massive headache you got.

“of course love. i’ll come pick you up.. although.. does this mean i get no shower sneak peek??” he chuckles, and you just roll your eyes at his words.

“hold your horses now.. you might get to see me another time.” you smile.

there’s a few awkward seconds of silence, then he decides to hang up so you can get ready.

truth is.. you slept this long because of the hangover you’re having after a longgg night partying with your best friend sunoo. main reason why your headache is also present. —

you hop in the shower, actually debating to send jake a little picture or a video but.. you decide to be a bit of a tease. you just finish your shower and start getting ready.

you get dolled up all for him, putting on a nice laced dress and your favourite ysl lipgloss, that jake bought for you as a present not long ago. you get your phone and keys, locking your huge metal gate. your phone makes a few clicking sounds while you search for jake’s number to call him.

“baby, i’m right in front of my house. i’ll be waiting for you.”

“okay princess, i’m almost there. i can’t wait to see you”

you smile at your phone as you hang up, already seeing the blinding lights of his black suv, stopping right next to you. he gets out the car to check you out for atleast 5 minutes, offering you a kiss and then opening the car door like a true gentleman. you get in the car, the seats all warmed up. “good.” you say in your mind. it’s mildly snowing out, you needed this.

jake sits back in the driver’s seat, getting ready to leave. you turn to look at him while he’s focused on the road and you can’t help but admire him. you would lie if you said that he’s not the hottest man you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. with his slick back black hair, a nice black suit hugging his waist while also complementing his eyes.

your eyes suddenly slip to his arms, more specifically his hands. they’re resting on the top of the steering wheel, his fingers so long and pretty, multiple veins following from his forearm up to the back of his hand. that scenery alone made you squeeze your thighs together, knowing you couldn’t act on it here..

there is only one thing you thought about on that silent car ride, his long fingers inside you. you needed that more than anything. right now. instead, you try to look the other way, your body as stiff as a rock.

jake looks at you for a split second wondering why you’re moving around in your seat so much. he smiles, reaching out one hand to place on your inner left thigh. “what’s wrong love? are you uncomfortable?”

you thought you would let out a moan right there, right as he placed his hand on your inner thigh. you quickly shake your head left and right trying to diffuse the situation. you accidentally look downwards at your lap, and see that same hand, now grasping the soft skin of your thigh, one vein getting more prominent with each squeeze.

you continue through this hell for a few more minutes until you arrive, exhaling when he gets his hand off you.

. . . you get to your table, through the reservation that jake made previously. the place is pretty packed for a high end restaurant like this one. you’re both making small talk, asking how your day was and.. what plans you have for tonight.. he’s flipping through the menu and all you can stare at are those hands. you begin to breathe more rapidly, getting impatient.

“who cares about food right now? all i want are those fingers in my mouth” you think, trying not to slap yourself from the realisation of what you just almost said out loud.

still, you finish eating, he pays with his black card of course. even though you keep insisting that you want to pitch in. he loves spoiling you every time and all you can give him in return are kisses or.. something more.

after another few excruciating minutes in that car, you arrive back at your home. jake sits down on the couch, manspreading while you take your shoes off.

“thank you my love.. the dinner was amazing. what can i do to repay you?” he plasters on a confused look on his face, almost replying with “you don’t have to repay me” but.. seeing how beautiful you were for him.. how you looked and how you got ready all for him.. made him needy. in a blink of an eye. he knew he was lucky dating you, and the thought that you were all his made him so excited.

“hmm.. there might be something you can do for me princess. you think i’m stupid? i saw how you were drooling over my hands. you really love them huh?”

you get a bit embarrassed, but you’re way too horny to deny anything right now. “yeah.. i really do… i need them. please.” you say already biting your bottom lip.

you can see him slowly form a grin on his face, not saying a word. he pats his thigh two times, to show you the seat you’ll have for the rest of the night.

you eagerly walk up to him and take off your coat to take your seat on his lap. he pulls you into a kiss that turns into a make out session. he travels his hands down to your waist, and you move yours to hold onto his shoulders. you don’t pull away from his lips for a long time, the taste keeping you addicted.

he makes you pull away at one point, smiling at you. he takes his own coat off, having only a white satin shirt underneath. two buttons of the shirt are already undone, showing his chest real well.. with a nod from him as agreement, you begin unbuttoning his shirt, in a few seconds leaving him shirtless. you saw those abs and muscles countless times yet.. it still makes your body have a reaction you can’t explain.

he softly tugs on your dress while whining and pouting. you laugh at his pouty face, finding him so adorable yet so demanding. “go ahead”, quiet words leave your mouth while looking into his eyes.

he does not hesitate. he takes off that dress almost ripping it off out of excitement, leaving you in your underwear. he uses his middle and ring finger to open your mouth, shoving them in and wetting them with your saliva. you suck on his fingers a bit, getting to be a bit of a show-off.

he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, taking off your panties now. he immediately starts rubbing your clit first, flicking it a bit and getting it all wet.. then he moves down to your folds, moving his fingers back and forth. you grab onto one of his shoulders for support, digging your nails in it.

“l..love please.. put them in..”

he does exactly as he’s told. he shoves both fingers inside you, slowly pumping them in and out.. you’re rapidly losing your mind, this is everything you wished for. you grab onto his wrist with your other hand, trying to make him keep going but.. to no avail.

he stops, giving you a signal to ride his fingers instead. you get into position, trying your best to move your hips back and forth. you moaned feeling his fingers in you, not being able to resist anymore already. when he curls his fingers up inside you, he was almost convinced you were about to cum.

you ride his fingers as well as you can, trying to get on his good side. he’s not quite satisfied with your pace, so he gives you a slap over the mouth. “ride them faster princess, what’s up? tired already?” you’re fucked up as is, his words are making this WAY harder for you. the moans are getting more and more consistent, figuring that you’re going to cum soon.

“okay slut, slow down now. i don’t want you to get too tired. i’ll make you bounce on my cock just like this if you’re a good girl for me.” but… you don’t slow down. with how much energy you have left, you keep going. “ahh..i need to cum..first..plea..” he cuts you off, his tone getting more irritated.

“oh? you wanna cum? let me help you cum then whore.” he grabs onto your neck, choking you ever so slightly while fucking you with his fingers. he’s moving his hand as fast as he can trying to make you cum. you moan uncontrollably at this point, getting so close to your release and not being able to talk properly from the choking.

you do end up cumming all over his veiny fingers and pants. the grasp on your neck loosens, leaving a red mark around it.

“mmm.. since i stretched you out so well with my fingers.. how about we put that to good use?” he smiles, that smile being far away from innocent. you know exactly what he wants and you’re willing to give him that.

you catch up your breath, grabbing onto his shoulders again. “let me ride you then.” you reply, trying to be as nonchalant as you can.

you move your hands down to his pants, slowly slipping them off him. the bulge in his boxers is huge, obviously you already knew that but the thought didn’t comfort you. he’s usually hard to take in, now imagine being all fucked up and having to ride him. you let out a small scared sigh, while taking his boxers off too.

his cock springs up immediately and you lick your lips looking at it. you grab the base to stroke it a few times, before getting into position to ride him. you intertwine your fingers with his as you slowly go down on him. you almost feel like giving out when you take him all in but you need to make him feel good.

you slowly start riding him, his size almost being unbearable to take. he loves it though, he loves how you struggle to take him and how that small bulge appears in your stomach everytime you bounce up and down. he grabs and pulls on your hair just to make you speed up, teasing you with that hair pull each time he feels you slowed down.

you pick up your pace significantly, moving up and down, back and forth on him. your eyes roll back from the pleasure and it really feels like he’s splitting you into two. he stops holding hands to take your tits out of your bra just to fondle them a bit. he’s running his thumb all over your nipples, sending you shivers down your spine.

“such a good girl.” he remarks, coming from him this is a compliment. you smile at his words, motivating you to keep going. he’s very deep inside you right now, any sudden movement almost making you cum a second time..

you can hear him getting more vocal over time, he’s whimpering and cooing.. the usual tough guy that would control every movement of yours, is now getting so vocal.. you love it though, your favourite part of it might just be his moans.

you clench your teeth and force yourself to go as fast as you can, just to make him cum.

“fffuck…. princess hold.. on.. i’m close..” just music to your ears. you want to let this man fill you up right now. you push yourself even more to overstimulation just to make him cum.

he lets out a whimpery moan getting so close already.

“cum.. inside me.. please my love..”

those are the last words you can say before he cums all in you. he’s filling you up to the brim and you can do is smile, feeling his cum leaking out of you. you give him a sweet kiss on the lips then on the nose.

“fucking hell… maybe we should go out to dinner more often hm?”

you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “you’re so cute.. now, wanna join me in the shower? no games this time.”

“waittt.. so this is why you didn’t send anything from your shower today.. let’s go for another round baby. what do you think?” he says, hugging your waist.

“hmmm.. maybeee. if you use those hands of yours again.”

“well, you know you’re in safe hands with me.”

[nevadancitizen]

-> ROT IN PUREST GOLD

synopsis: you've been skipping through universes ever since you touched the source of the hexgates. through everything, you've never stopped searching for your viktor -- now, you've found him, and you just want to go home.

word count: 2.7k

ships: viktor/reader

tags: angst with a happy ending, fluff and angst, pre-established relationship

notes: inspired by purest gold by miracle of sound. and this is my first shot at writing viktor.. lmk if i got anything wrong ^_^

related reading: Oh Viktor, My Viktor (What Could’ve Been)

It’s been years since you saw Viktor. Many years – artificial years. Years spent close, away, at a distance but still observing. But they were never your Viktor. 

Viktor with the accented voice and the long face. Viktor with the work ethic of a hive of worker honeybees, tireless and continuous. Viktor with the eyes of pure gold – never pyrite or brass with a yellow twinge. He’s always been made of the purest gold.

None of them ever could’ve replaced him. With all these alternate universes you were hopping between, you met plenty of Viktors. Some came close, but none replaced him. It wasn’t their faults; they couldn’t compete with a memory. 

You were a variable, too, so you couldn’t blame them completely. You went by different names, had different stories. Anything to make this depressing, grueling trudge through many lives more tolerable. 

Some things made things less annoying, like cars. (Well, sometimes. Sometimes they were a nuisance.) Cars are one of the things you think your Viktor would’ve liked to study. To take apart, to put back together, to modify and make better. You could see him becoming a real torque dork while listening to Speedfreaks FM. 

Mostly because that’s what he insists on listening to when you drive him to his doctor’s appointments – both of which you’re doing right now. Well, this universe’s version of him insists on Speedfreaks FM, and insists on you not calling him a ‘torque dork.’ Differentiating the Viktors from each other gets really complicated really fast, but giving them numbers feels dehumanizing. (If you did, this Viktor would be V-24. You’ve been keeping track.)

You turn on your blinker and wait for an opening to drive into the parking lot. Beneath the chatter of the radio hosts, you can hear Viktor tap his slender fingers against his forearm crutch in the passenger seat. Another difference you’ve noticed – both his outward fidgeting and his different mobility aids. 

When your turn comes, you turn your car into the parking lot. You slowly let the car drift, your foot hovering above the brake in case someone needs to cross. 

You turn down the radio a few clicks. “You think you’ll need your wheelchair?”

Viktor is silent. You take your eyes off the road for a split second and glance at him. He’s looking out the side window, at the plaza’s tall buildings and a sign that says Pueblito Plaza. 

“Viktor?” You say. “You hearing me?”

You pull into a parking spot and put the car in park. Worry eats through you – you don’t know what’s happening. Why is he acting like this?

He’s turned in his seat, looking through the back window at the buildings. There’s amazement on his face and for a second – a split second – he’s there. He’s your Viktor. 

But he’s not. He’s not. 

Those eyes are not gold. They are topaz and they are citrine. They are the yellow-orange that accompanies the sunrise. Beautiful, yes, but not yours.

“Where… are we?” He asks, his voice soft and wonderful.

“We’re going to your doctor appointment,” you say. “With… what’s her name? The pulmonologist. And then you have a CT chest scan.”

“No – the nation,” Viktor says. “What nation are we in? I have never seen technology like this.”

He runs a hand over the console of the car, then over the glovebox. He opens it, then looks inside. Nothing but napkins from fast food places and a laminated copy of your car insurance. 

“What’re you looking for?” You ask. You turn the key, and the car shuts off. 

“The power source,” Viktor says, looking at the key in your hand. “May I?”

“Viktor, you’re not cleared to drive,” you say, your voice growing sterner and firmer. “The doctors said your legs are… too weak or something – I don’t know.”

You clutch the key (and the carabiner it’s attached to) tighter in your hand. The charms hanging from it jingle and clink together. A small cog and a toy that looks like a spark plug make a metallic click as they collide.

“What is that?” Viktor reaches out, but just barely stops himself from touching the spark plug toy. You pause for a second, then give him the entire carabiner. 

Viktor holds the spark plug toy up to his face, inspecting it closely. He lets the rest of the charms on the carabiner dangle freely. You watch him – watch his eyes. A spark of gold. A fleck of cooler color in a pool of a warmer, yellowish orange. 

He sets the pad of his thumb on the hex of the toy (the hex here is a piece of metal on a spark plug fitted for a wrench – not the hex you were used to, so long ago). He wiggles it back and forth, then spins it. The hex spins with a barely-audible metallic rasp, like a fidget ring.

“It’s very intricate for a toy,” Viktor says. “Who made this?”

“Wh… you did. You gave that to me,” you say softly. “Why don’t you remember that?”

A quiet question nags the back of your mind – is Viktor getting worse?

You silently beg that you’re right. In a twisted, selfish way, you want him to get worse. You’ve taken care of Viktor before. Watched him die in multiple dimensions. In some of them, he even died in your arms, his golden eyes fading and his hand falling from your cheek.

You know what it’s like to watch him get worse. You’ve done it before, seen it before. You know what to do, how to grieve. You don’t know what you’d do if this is… Viktor. Viktor for real. Your Viktor.

“Are you trying to stifle my curiosity?” Viktor asks, a teasing smile on his face, his eyes still on the toy. 

“You gave it to me… I don’t know, six, seven years ago?” You say. You turn so that your shoulder is leaning against the car seat, facing him. “A spark plug. It’s important to the engine. I don’t remember how. And now… I’m failing your test.”

Viktor puts the carabiner down on the console. He laughs, and he’s looking at you like… you don’t know how he’s looking at you. But it’s something familiar. Something long-lost that you’ve been yearning for. 

“How could I test you on something I barely know anything about?” He asks. His smile falters a little.

“Don’t bullshit me,” you say, smiling. (His laughter always manages to make you smile.) “You know everything there is to know about cars, trucks, motorcycles…”

Viktor’s smile turns forced and confused. His eyebrows furrow a little. “I… have no idea what you’re talking about…”

And then he says it. He says your name. Your real name, your true name – the name V-1 called you. The name the real Viktor called you. 

It goes through you like a cold shock. A baptism in electrified ice water. You want to put your hand to his throat and ask, “What the fuck? What the hell did you just call me? Who’re you talking about?” 

You want to… but you can’t. You’re frozen until Viktor places a hand on yours.

You jerk it away, cradling both hands to your chest and scrunch back against the car door. “Don’t touch me.”

And he says your name again. Again, in that tone that invites sympathy, but mostly pity. He’s pitying you. You’ve gone through this too many times, with too many therapists.

“You – Viktor,” you say, his name coming out in a gasp. There’s a lump in your throat and you feel almost nauseous. 

“You’re not… you’re not the real one,” you grind out. “You’re not my Viktor, so stop acting like it. In th– in this universe, you’re just a friend, and that’s it.”

Viktor is silent, his mouth agape. “My love –”

“Don’t! Please,” you say. The words escape you before you can do anything. “Please, just don’t. Who – who told you?”

“Who told me what?” Viktor asks. His voice is still soft and sympathetic and sickly sweet.

“That you’re… you were…” You slump against the car door. Your elbow knocks against the steering wheel.

You look at him again. Your eyes dart between both of his, looking, observing. They’re not gold anymore. Well, they never really were, but now they’re… they’re opaline – pearlescent. A whole kaleidoscope in a drop. This is something different, but, still… it’s almost like you can sense him. This is the true Viktor – your Viktor. 

“I was there, Runeterra, the core of the hexgates, and then… I wasn’t. I’ve lived twenty-three lives before this. My first memory of… here… is of my fifteenth birthday party. I had to grow up all over again. Make new friends, go to a child’s school. I didn’t have anyone. And you –” Your voice catches in your throat, on both anger and sorrow. “You left me here! You left me to do this all alone!”

“I would never.” Viktor’s cold hands meet yours. He cradles them both. “I would never leave you, my love. I’m so, so sorry.”

“But you did!” You grip his hands as tight as you can, trying to savor the feeling. Tears well at the corners of your eyes. “You left me with this… this rot. These gilded Viktors that look like you, act like you. And it hurt. Everything hurts.”

“I know,” Viktor says softly. “You’re hurting me, too.”

You blink, then realise what you’re doing and loosen your grip on his hands. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He breathes out a soft laugh, then brushes his thumbs over your knuckles. “It must’ve been lonely, all by yourself.”

“You have no idea,” you say, your voice breaking a little. You blink hard, and a tear runs down your face. “We went to an arcade, and I spent all my quarters on you. We went to a museum, and I bought you a small paperweight of a statue that was on display there. We went to this weird, exotic place – Great Britain, I think it was called – and we shared tea and scones. And, no matter what I did, it… it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t right. It… he wasn’t you.”

“I’m here now.” Viktor gives your hands a gentle squeeze – much softer than what you gave him. “How long has it been?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” you say tearfully. “Time moves differently here. Maybe… sixty years? I’m not sure.”

“Sixty?” Viktor balks. “Oh, my love…”

His hands slowly, carefully, move away from yours. Cold fingers meet your jaw, and your eyes flutter shut on instinct, head tilting down into the touch. Viktor cradles your face, both his thumbs brushing back-and-forth over your cheeks. 

 “I dreamt of you,” you say softly. “Every night. And I thought of you every day. Just… thinking of you, every moment I could spare.”

“Surely that’s an exaggeration,” Viktor says. 

You shake your head and lean further into his touch. “I’ve waited so long… so long. And now you’re here, and I – I don’t know what to do.”

He moves his hands, the tips of his fingers splayed across the sides of your neck and his thumbs gently pressing into your temples. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “This is nice, though. Just… you being here is nice.”

You lean forward, placing your hands over his to ensure they stay in place. “It felt like eternity, waiting for you. Just waiting, and longing. None of them could replace you.”

You open your eyes, just the slightest bit, and take Viktor in. Good god, he’s Viktor. He’s your Viktor. No longer the purest gold, but something new. Something better. Something life-bringing and something with infinite mercy.

“That is flattering, coming from you,” Viktor says. “You could have anyone you want – anyone across twenty-four universes. And you chose me, in every single one? That is the highest praise I could receive.”

You breathe out a laugh as your eyes shut again. “Shut up.”

“Eh… if you continue to act like this, I don’t think I will,” he teases. In a softer, warmer tone, he adds, “Your face is getting warm, too. I can feel it.”

You groan and hide your face in Viktor’s hands further. Even though you act like you hate it, you’ve missed this – you’ve missed this immensely. His teasing, his compliments that make you feel like you hung the sun, the moon, and all the stars by yourself. 

“Maybe you’re just getting warmer in general,” you say softly. “Maybe you’re getting better.”

“I have gotten better,” Viktor says, his voice light. “In our universe… I… I have touched the Arcane. I have been healed, and I am a healer. A herald into a new, better world – not only for the Undercity, but for the whole of Piltover.”

You shift his hands so that they’re resting on your cheeks and open your eyes, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “That sounds nice. I’m… sorry you had to do all that without me.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Viktor asks. “It’s not your fault.”

“I don’t know. I just…” You sigh. “I blamed it all on you, and I was angry. Real angry. But it wasn’t your fault – it wasn’t anyone’s. I was angry and I took it all out on the memory of you.”

“Do you really think I care?” His voice is soft as he swipes a thumb over your cheek. 

“No,” you admit after a moment. “But, still…”

“You are occupying your mind with the past and what-ifs,” Viktor says. He draws a hand over your scalp, his fingernails lightly digging into the skin there. “Focus on the here, the now.”

You shudder and melt into his hands. Your eyes, though still closed, sting with a fresh wave of tears. 

“I missed you,” you choke out. 

“You’ve said that already,” Viktor says. 

“I can’t say it enough,” you say, your voice sticky and wet. “I was your champion in the arena. I was your personal knight. I was the chieftain of your armies. I was your tool, your instrument. And you were my everything.”

“You are my everything,” he says. His tone is so sincere and heartfelt that it makes your throat seize up. “Why would you ever doubt that?”

“I didn’t,” you say. “It–it’s just that, all these memories… I was so many people, and so were you. And some things blur together, and it gets hard to differentiate everything, and…”

You groan and lean into Viktor’s touch. You glance up into his eyes, still opaline. “Everything got so complicated so fast. I just wanted you – the real you.”

“It’s okay, my love.” His hands move to hold your jaw, to draw you closer. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“But I feel like I have to,” you say. “I just… I just want you back. I wanna go back to the Viktor I know. I wanna go home.”

“We can go home,” Viktor says. “I can take you home.”

“Then take me home,” you say, almost too quickly. “Viktor, please.”

“You don’t have to beg,” he says. There is no teasing or hidden malice in his voice. He just wants you home, too. 

Viktor’s hands slide to the back of your head, his palms almost cradling your skull. He presses his fingers down and tilts your head forward, towards his. Your eyes flutter shut as your forehead touches his. 

It’s white. It’s the bright, cleansing light of some sort of heaven. Heaven? Haven? You’re not too sure. You’re not sure you can bring yourself to care, either. Not when you’re here – not when your Viktor is in reach. Not when you can touch him, hold him, talk to the one you love. The one you’ve been pining for, fighting for, losing and winning for. From somewhere between sixty years and eternity, you’ve been wanting him. And now he’s here. Your Viktor is here. 

It’s unbelievable. Your Viktor is here. 

The memories of your past lives, the former realities you’ve lived, meld and blur into distinct feelings. Visual memories blend into base emotions. A warrior’s pride. A traveler’s wanderlust. A teenager’s excitement. A knight’s confidence and courage. A chieftain’s insecurity cloaked as hostility. 

They melt away into contentment. A gentle wave lapping at a quiet shore. Acceptance. 

You are healed. 

You are home. 

[t-a-a-1]

Counting Stars

TFP Optimus x Female Reader

Summary: After a dangerous mission where you almost die, Optimus breaks up with you without knowing you are carrying his sparkling. It's not until seven months later that the universe allows you both to meet once again.

A/N: Lots of yearning, jealousy, delusions, craving, fluff. All that good stuff.

5K

Counting Stars

...

He almost lost you. 

And yet he had to act like he didn't care.

It was to everyone's surprise when he announced that you will no longer be living at the base. It was simple. Due to inner conflicts, you won't be a part of Team Prime any longer. 

No one believed it until you came to pick up your things and said your last goodbyes. 

Optimus was nowhere to be found. 

And no one dared to ask him why.

Only Optimus knows the reason. 

He was well aware of his limits. Knowing that the moment he sees you, he would break down. Throw away his pride and ask you to stay forever with him. That he was a complete idiot to believe he could live a single day without you.

What an idiot he indeed is. 

It's been a week and he can't do it. Primus, give him strength. He sees you everywhere. He smells you in the flowers, feels your touch in the wind, hears your voice in nature and sees you in the stars. How much he misses to taste your lips once more.

"One more day and I think you will go offline, old friend."

Out of embarrassment, Optimus tries to close the windows in the data-pad screen, he was too focused on looking at pictures of you to notice Ratchet walking close to him. 

“What, um-”  He keeps closing tabs, each one having a different picture of you. From different angles and expressions. Blurry and not. “What are you referring to, old friend?”

Ratchet doesn't know how to react to this. He has always been aware of Optimus' massive love for you. Of course he knew. Even more now that the bearer of the Matrix can’t seem to function properly without your presence. 

Optimus keeps closing taps and Ratchet gets a glimpse of Orion Pax. Trying his best to hide the fact that he messed up. 

From innocent pictures, more intimate ones appeared.

“Would you please close your optics?” There is some panic and concern in his voice. But also an authoritative tone to it.  “I do not wish for you to see her the way I used to.”

Ratchet just turns around, giving Optimus enough privacy to conclude his activity. 

“I had just wanted to check up on your well-being due to recent events. But I am afraid that you are in a worse state than I thought possible.”

He hears more clicking and typing before hearing a heavy ex-vent coming from the Autobot leader.

“You can turn around now.”

“Optimus, you can’t continue like this,” the robot medic takes a look at the screen again. It’s empty but the blue blush on Optimus’ face is still evident.  “It’s only been a week. But have you truthly imagined what your life will be after living an eternity without (y/n)?”

Of course he doesn’t think about it. He might be an idiot but not entirely stupid. If he spirals and thinks too much about it he’ll probably lose all sense of responsibility and sanity. He can’t think about no longer being able to see the stars in your eyes. Of not longer hearing the sweetness of your voice or caressing the softness of your skin–

“There’s nothing I can do about it,” Optimus quickly stops thinking.  “My fate is sealed and so is hers. Our paths shall never meet again.”

Knowing Optimus for such a long time, Ratchet knows when he is lying. Even he should be aware of how full of scrap that lie is. Still, he wishes to push it further and see for how long Optimus will keep it up.

“If you truthly think that way then delete all of those frames and we shall never speak of her again.”

Their optics met for a few seconds and the gentle look in Optimus’ optics let Ratchet know everything he needed. However, he wanted his friend to be the one to realize it. Some things have to be lived and pain is the best teacher. 

“I … I-”

Looking back at the screen, there are no pictures of you. The thought of never seeing you again crosses his mind. He doesn’t have much to remember you by. You had taken all of your things. No longer can he phantom words to deny the truth. 

“Why are you putting yourself through all of this pain, old friend? When you and I are aware that you cannot pass a second without thinking of her?”

It was late night at the hangar and all other Autobots had gone to recharge. It was only the two of them and no one dared to ask Optimus about past occurrences that included you. 

“I told her … I wish I had never met her.”

Ratchet slowly opens his intake the moment the words slips Optimus’ glossa. 

“Even if my spark wishes nothing more but to see her again … I am afraid I have severed the relationship beyond repay.”

There is a pause in which Ratchet wanted to comfort his friend, to say some words of encouragement but he doesn’t know if it will be good enough.

“If only you had seen her face, Ratchet  … You would know. I have no right to ask for forgiveness.” 

You are the strongest person he knows. He has yet to see you shed a tear, no amount of injuries have made you do so. But that night, between discussions and arguments, he saw your eyes become crystal. The only thing he could do was to look away. He knew he would break as well if he ever became the reason for your suffering. 

.

.

.

Seven months passed. 

Not a single word from you. 

Sometimes, however, Optimus would hear Fowler speak about you. A simple ‘She’s doing fine’ and ‘She has made new friends.’

But that was enough to make him wonder about you. Your new life, friends, if you had found anyone who was of your interest.

“We need the Autobot assistance in transporting a highly classified product across the state.”

He finds himself enjoying putting his life in danger. To take on difficult missions so his mind can be occupied. For those moments he is free from the thoughts of you. Any other second he is busy indulging in his torment from your parting. 

Apparently, MECH was extremely interested in this product and had plans to steal it from the CIA. It was the Autobots’ job to prevent that from happening. 

The bots surrounded a black bulletproof truck. They weren’t allowed to look at what was inside which did not please them. If they were to protect something, they wanted to know what it was. However, Optimus gave it a one time pass. After all, Fowler has proved himself to be a trusted ally. 

The first couple of miles went by easily. With no interruptions. 

It wasn’t until it started to go dark that trouble appeared. 

MECH had interjected the mission. Using every single gun, missile and bombs at their dispossession. Whatever that black truck was carrying, they wanted it no matter what. 

“At this rate we are going to lose the target!”

Arcee screamed through her comm-link as she tried her best to take down as many helicopters as possible without hurting any human in the process. Pretty much against her will but orders were orders. 

“These guys are really fighting it out!” Bulkhead was against a few tanks, he had stayed behind to keep them busy while the truck made an attempt to go out of sight. “Are we even sure this thing we are protecting is worth our lives?!”

Optimus was the one closest to the truck, keeping direct contact in case of a disaster. 

“Optimus! We won’t be able to keep them away for long!”

Bumblebee chirped in morse code and the Autobot leader knew he had to do something. 

He drives faster, facing the two officers that were driving the truck. Side to side, they look at the driverless vehicle. 

“Open the trunk and I’ll take the cargo. We won’t be able to hold them for long. I’ll take the cargo somewhere safe while you serve as a distraction. If we don’t do this, you’ll lose it all.”

The military officers look at each other for a small second. Giving a knowing look, they knew what they had to do. They open up the trunk and Optimus slows his driving, taking a look, finally, at what’s inside. 

The cargo is you. 

He quickly transforms back to his robot mode. Running towards you. He extended a sevo, he wanted you to jump. 

You were holding onto the walls of the truck as if your life depended on it. And it did. This was definitely not the encounter you were expecting after not seeing him for seven months. But now it wasn’t the moment to think about that. What happened between the two of you was over. But you still trusted Optimus Prime, the leader he has always been. 

“Quickly!”

You run towards him and jump as the trunk is in fast motion. Your feet land on his servo and in less than a second, he transforms back to his vehicle mode. Now you sat safely in the passenger seat. Optimus moves out of the road and drives off into the forest. Getting lost into the massiveness of nature and tall pine trees. 

No longer being able to hear chaos, Optimus assumed it was safe to talk. 

“Would you care to explain your status and the reasoning to why you are being transported by the American military?”

You weren’t fond of his voice, much less how this conversation started.

“Not even a ‘how are you’ first? You really haven’t changed at all, Prime.”

You say as you cross your arms in front of your chest. Looking outside the window, you wished you were being chased again by MECH. 

“Do not dare to call me by titles.”

There were times you called him by his last name. When you were angry and when the two of you were yet to form a relationship. He doesn’t like to reminisce about those times. 

“Just let me out. I’ll walk.”

“But–”

“I said … I’ll walk.”

Optimus stops and opens the door for you. You hop out of his vehicle mode and start walking without anywhere in mind. 

You put your hands in your oversize hoodie. The last thing you wanted was for him to take a deep look at you. Much less if he starts analyzing your body with stats. 

“I don’t think you know where you are supposed to be located,” he says as he transforms back to his regular robot mode. 

“I’ll figure it out.”

Optimus begins to panic as you start to walk away. This wasn’t how the reunion was supposed to be. He had dreamt of the next time he saw you. Maybe on a field of flowers and running towards each other. Ending it with an embrace and a passionate kiss. 

“Would you listen to reason for once?”

He tries again to engage but he only makes himself sound rude without having those intentions. 

“No.”

Would please look at him? It’s been seven months since he last saw you. He’s only seen your eyes through the pictures of his data-pad but they didn’t compare to seeing them in person–

“Why are you following me? I thought you didn’t care.”

You finally turn to look at him. 

He can’t control his processor at your sight. Your hair was a nice mess, you were wearing clothes too big for you, maybe to hide the few pounds you gained during this time. Your cheeks were pinker and plumber. Dark circles under your eyes but skin glowing and those beautiful eyes that could put any star in the universe to shame.

Optimus stumbles on his pedes and almost falls on his knees, your beauty too distracting for any living being to be witness of. 

“I .. I –”

He can’t believe you are talking to him. This was too soon and no words could leave his voice box as if had forgotten how to speak entirely. 

He wanted to say it all. How much he missed you, how desperately he needed you. How there hasn’t been a single day he didn’t think about you. How everything reminded him of you. And how painful has it been every second you are not with him.

But before he could rant about his undying love for you, he sees a painful expression on your face. Followed by you, placing your arms around your belly and bending as if the cause of your physical pain was located in your stomach.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“Just,” you take a moment to breathe as you slowly make your way towards a tree. “Just leave me alone.”

With sad and curious optics, he sees you put a hand on your stomach. Whispering comforting words. ‘It’s alright’ and ‘It’s ok’ you kept talking to yourself to make you believe those words. 

“We’ll be safe.”

“I am going to run a quick analysis–”

“No,” you interrupt him again. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

Optimus dislikes going against your wishes. But the way you are breathing heavily, your sweating and trembling doesn’t look like a good sign. He can manage to live without you if it guarantees that you can live a long happy life. But not the same can be said if your life is cut short for whatever reason. 

“My apologies but my mission is to keep you safe and that’s exactly what I tend to do.”

“I am pregnant,” you had no other choice. “Thankfully, you are not the father.”

That was a lie but at least the shock will prevent and confuse him enough. If Optimus were to do an analysis on your body, he would find anomalies only a Cybertronian would know. 

Finally getting the strength you need, you stand up and walk past Optimus whose face you did not dare to look. Your swollen belly still hurts but you didn’t want to worry him. The reason why you are not with him in the first place is because he thought of you as a liability. You no longer want to be seen as such. 

“Who’s the father of the child?”

The question infuriated you. Of all the things he could have asked, he asks such a selfish question. He shouldn’t care and certainly you are tired of Optimus pretending he does. 

“You know, on Earth, is customary to say ‘congratulations,” you turn to look at him. 

A fatal mistake. 

His optics reflected a grief unknown to you. The type you do not know nor wish to ever experience. Then there is a pain you recognize, that of a broken heart. You knew that feeling very well. He had been the one responsible for it after all. A part of you is happy to know that he is experiencing karma, that he is hopefully experiencing a fraction of the pain he made you go through.

But that wasn’t you. You didn’t want to inflect any type of suffering in him. Not now. Not ever.

“I am sorry.”

There wasn’t anything else you could say. You look down, disappointed at your own feelings.

“No. My apologies,” Optimus noticed your sudden change and he too feels unworthy to be of your presence. Having his ill feelings and jealousy overtake his processor instead of worrying about your well being. “I did not think it was possible for you to find a suitable partner with whom … to mate with … and so soon.”

“Well, humans do not live for long and we only have a few years until we are no longer able to ‘mate’”

You didn’t like using the word ‘mate’ . It made humans sound like animals but you used it so Optimus could be spoken to in terms he could understand. 

“But do you have … feelings for this individual?”

“Yes,” you lied again, trying to see what you can get away with.  “He is just and kind. Tall and handsome.” 

Optimus puts a servo on his hip and looks to the other side. Not looking at anything in particular rather he didn’t want to show his evident discomfort. 

“Yet it seems he is unable to do the most important duty … to protect you.”

“He is quite adequate, actually,” you tease him again. The Autobot leader might be a smart war tactician but is terrible at understanding hints.  “He is the strongest and fierce when needed.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that I have as well found someone else to keep my time occupied,” he stutters, unable to lie. “She’s strong, a good talker and a listener. Kind and has the most beautiful eyes in the entire universe.”

Now he was being too specific for your liking. What if he was telling the truth and he had indeed found someone else? You didn't know how not. After all, Optimus Prime was the most extraordinary being on Earth and probably in the entire universe. 

All of your doubts and insecurities began to fill your heart. You were just a human, easily replaceable. But Optimus? There’s only one of him. You were insignificant compared to him. It has always been this way. 

“Then I hope she is better than I ever was.”

You turn to keep walking into the woods with no destination whatsoever but you didn’t care. 

 “It seems we made the right choice to part ways.”

Optimus wouldn’t have it. He can’t phantom it and it’s probably selfish thinking. But he can’t understand how easily you can say that while there hasn’t been a single day he is not tormented by your absence. When every second of his life has been torture without you. 

“Is that really how you feel?” His voice is indignant. Every circuit in his processor, begged him to hold you. To tell you how much he craves you and how unfair has life been. Taking you away only when you have become the most beautiful of beings.  “After everything?”

“You have someone and I have someone,” you don’t turn around, putting a hand again on your stomach. Giving it a small rub and looking down at it.  “And I am with a child as you can see and very happy.”

“A child that should have been born from our bond. I should have been the father of that sparkling, I-”  

“You wished we had never met,” you whisper quietly but you know he can hear you. He always listened. “So please, stop talking like you care.”

“(Y/N)?” 

He looks at you and notices your distraught. Your breathing has become slower.

“Are you alright?”

You fall but before your body could touch the ground, Optimus catches you on his servo. He studies you for a second. You have pink cheeks and breathing seems difficult. He doesn’t hesitate to use his comm-link.

“Ratchet, I request an immediate groundbridge.” 

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“Vitals are stable but I’ll stay alert tonight to watch over her.”

Ratchet was glad to have you back at the base although he wished it was in different circumstances. After a couple of hours, everyone went back to their private quarters. The only ones left were the medic and the leader of the autobots. 

They watched over you as you slept soundly in the medical berth. Your vital signs displayed on the data-screen. Although everything seems fine, the two of them were known to overthink and worry.

“I waited for everyone to leave to tell you something of an extremely important matter.”

“What is it, old friend?”

“While doing some analyses in (Y/N)’s body, I distinguished an anomaly,” Ratchet clicks on keys and rapidly two sound frames appear. There are many lines, short and big, all close together. Together they create a different pattern from each other. 

 “(Y/N) appears to have two different heart beats. But, of course, that goes against human biology. So I did further testing.”

“I made a discovery. The second beat has a different frequency of that of a human heart,” the medic played the sound, Optimus recognized this as your heartbeat.  “But this other one has the same frequency and energy as a spark.”

“I do not understand.”

Trying to be tactful was hard for Ratchet as it is. He didn’t want to downplay the situation either. It was a serious matter but he has to admit that not even himself can’t contain his exhilaration. 

“Cybertron hasn’t had a single sparkling in centuries so coming to this conclusion took some time” 

The medic ex-vents, somehow it helped with his tension. He has been alive for quite some time and yet he can’t remember the last time he helped bring a new life to Cybertron. It was all the culmination of his studies and practices. Maybe finally he will have a chance to create life instead of just curing it. 

“After all, I had to look through some old archives and Human-Cybertronian hybrids is a first. But seeing that humans have the ability to create life and combining that with Cybertronian transmission genes … I believe I have a definite conclusion.” 

Ratchet presses a key, making the data-screen play a distinct sound. A sound similar to static but a distinct rhythm could be heard. Gentle and soft. Pure. 

“(Y/N) is carrying a sparkling.” 

“By the AllSpark,” Optimus blinks multiple times as he always does when he is excited or perplexed about something. He looks at you. Your small fragile body. “How?”

“How are humans able to create life with a soul, conscious mind and a body?” Ratchet doesn’t know how to explain it, because even he can't fully understand how. “Primus may have heard our prayers and has blessed us with an opportunity to welcome a new life to our race.”

“Agent Fowler must have known this and MECH as well. That’s why they were so precautious when transporting her from one place to the other.”

Optimus made a mental note to ask Fowler about this and his reasoning as to why he wasn’t informed of such an important matter.

“If MECH lay hands on (Y/N) they would experiment on her and the sparkling as soon as it’s  born,” Ratchet says as he walks towards you with a tender expression in his faceplace. “Half Human, half Cybertronian. This child will change everything.”

“Conceived from a son of Primus and a daughter of Unicron.”

The situation was out of legends and myths. The kind of thing that sounds impossible but maybe this little hope inside of you is what is needed to light up their darkest hour. 

“And this may also explain your sudden urge to nest,” the medic’s voice is more light-hearted now. Having flashbacks of Optimus picking up random flowers, pretty rocks and good-looking metal to bring back to the base. When questioned about it, the leader of the Autobots simply responded that he had an urge to do so. 

 “I thought you were going crazy when you started to bring earthly materials to the base.”

“I thought so too.”

Optimus sees you sleep. He has the need to touch your swollen belly, to feel the growing spark within you. You have always been amazing, he knew that much. But he never thought you were capable of conceiving life like their own. What a beautiful sight. One he never thought possible. Now, it’s right in front of him. Hope. The complete personification of it, staring right at him. 

“Will she be alright?”

“She’s stable but she definitely needs to be watched over. Her weakened state is due to the fact that the sparkling is taking too much of her energy,” Ratchet also has his optics on you. The happiest Optimus has ever seen. Knowing that there is hope for their race to continue to grow must be the first real sign of hope Ratchet has had since eons ago.

 “Energon is mostly toxic to humans but the sparkling has created anti-mechs for (y/n)’s immune system to withstand it.  We are going to have to start supplying her with energon if we wish for the sparkling to be born healthy.”

“And most importantly,” he takes a moment to look at his old friend. His optics now showed a more hostile gaze. “A sparkling needs the electromagnetic waves of a caregiver to copy growing behaviors.”

“She needs you, Optimus.”

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It was the middle of the night when you woke up. You feel thirsty but need more than water. Your body has had strange cravings lately but you were not about to randomly drink energon just because the baby wanted to. 

You knew this place too well. The smell of metal and bots was everywhere. The soft vans of the air conditioner are comforting. The orange light coming from Ratchet’s data screen illuminated the room enough for you not to be scared. Although you didn’t want to admit it, you missed this place. Even when you much preferred to be sleeping in the coach instead of the medical berth. 

“Do you need something?”

Optimus came back from behind you. You shake your body and back away a few centimeters. 

“My apologies, I did not want to scare you.”

He had mass-displaced. Still over 10 feet and really tall compared to any regular human. He tries to be delicate even when you know he is not fond of this form. Optimus had told you before that it was a bit uncomfortable for him. Of course, he never seemed to complain whenever he mass shifted to lay on your bed.

You look down and caress your stomach. It would be stupid to believe that Ratchet did not find out about your little secret and told Optimus about it. 

“It’s alright.”

Awkwardly, he sits next to you. You thought he might be furious with you. For lying to him in the first place. But now you feel ashamed for a reason you can’t understand. The mere fact of deceiving Optimus Prime is an unpleasant experience. 

“(Y/N) …”

“I am sorry I didn’t tell you,” you don’t look at him. Instead, you look down at your feet and how they hang from the medical berth.  “Don’t get angry at Fowler, please. I was the one who told him not to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you want to share such important information?”

“Because you said … You wished you had never met me,” you feel a knot forming on your throat. It hurts to speak, to even form thoughts and remember what happened seven months ago. His voice is still very present in your memories. The pain is still in your heart.  “So I thought, you wouldn’t want our child either.”

Clenching his servo into a fist, Optimus fights the urge to hold you. You were so close, yet the only thing he can indulge himself with is your scent. It's different now. It was your smell combined with a new aroma. That of his sparkling. 

“I have made many hard decisions in my life,” it was difficult for him to look at you. Now, he feels indignant to stand before you. You were to him what the gods were to their subjects. Devotion is not enough for him to satisfy his service to you. 

 “But the hardest decision was to let you go and I did it because I was scared. Even now, I doubt myself. Maybe you’ll be safer somewhere else. Away from me, away from all of this,”

Reminiscing about the past is painful to him. Most memories of you are lovely, unforgettable. But that time seven months ago when the Decepticons had captured you. The screams, the terror in your face, Megatron ordering you to tell him how scared you were. How he couldn’t do anything. Helpless. Pathetic. 

And for a small second. For a fraction he really believed he had lost you. That was enough for him to know he won’t function without you. 

 “If something were to happen to you … I won’t be able to … I can’t-”

He feels his entire core shake. His servos trembling as they remember holding your almost lifeless body.

“I am sorry,” his voice glitches. “I said unforgivable things with hopes that they would push you away. To protect you. I can live with you hating me but I cannot envision the day the universe takes your soul from me.” 

May Primus have mercy on his spark. May he forgive him but Optimus would throw everything away just to hold you. Just for his words to reach your heart. To feel your touch once again. 

“But I was a fool to believe I could stay away from you. To think that my restraint was as strong as my morals.” 

There is silence and although he doesn’t dare to look at you, he can feel your presence. For now it was enough to have you next to him. 

  “You may not believe in my words but believe this; the only good thing this fool has ever done is love you. It's the only thing … the only decision I have no doubts about.”

Suddenly, softness meets his faceplate. Immediately, his optics were on the blink of releasing energon. With a simple touch, you had healed him. A part of his spark that felt empty was full again. The meaning to his life was restored. 

“Do you even know how much I missed you?” 

You ask him with a gentle voice. Caressing every sense of his audials, engraving them in his processor. To forever remain in the deepest part of his mind. 

He can’t even begin to tell you what he truly feels. He had given up. Come to realize that no words, no language in the present, past nor future could ever be vast enough to express the love he has for you. 

Optimus could try with his actions. That may not be enough either. But he will have all of eternity to make for it. 

“Everyday after you left, I would go to the rooftop on the base and I would count each star in the sky,” he puts a servo on top of your hand and his dermas brush against your skin, a small kiss. “To try and relieve the nights I would count the stars in your eyes.”

You didn’t say anything. Whenever it came to talking, Optimus was always more proficient. You never felt the need to say something either, he always knew what you meant. What you were feeling. Words were not necessary. Not when he can read your eyes so easily. 

“And not even the timeless company of the entire universe could compare to one second with you.”

That night, you rested in his chassis. Missing your warmth, he embraced you. Your stomach pressed lightly against him. This experience was something new to him and he was terrified of it. Afraid he won’t be good enough to be a partner or a father. But as long as you were with him, the impossible became possible. So maybe becoming someone worthy of a sparkling could also be feasible. 

Optimus will try his very best. For you, for the sparkling. For himself. Failing it's not an option and being a father was a greater honor than being a Prime. A title he would give up if only you would ask him. Of course, you will never ask him such a thing. He knew you better than that. 

Optimus believes in Primus, fully. But he is thankful to whatever gods created you. If he could and knew how, he would pray and thank them. 

He now has another chance. Another opportunity. To give you what he has been collecting. 

Maybe tomorrow he will give you all the dandelions he found for you. 

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A/N: Sorry for the late Christmas post. Merry Christmas and Happy New Years I hope y’all enjoyed this. As always, for any questions, comments, concerns or prompt ideas you can send me an inbox. For all the love and support … Thank you! See you next year!

Next:

[alisonsfics]

place to crash

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

summary: carmy steps in as your knight in shining armor when your apartment’s electricity breaks, which makes you both test the line between friends and something more

word count: 2.9k

warnings: swearing, whole lotta fluff

“Oh, come on. Hurry the fuck up,” you muttered to yourself. You were currently on hold with the electricity company.

After a hectic service at the Bear, you had come home to your pitch black apartment with no power. The one thing you wanted to do was curl up and eat some leftovers while watching some tv, but that clearly wasn’t happening tonight.

“Hello? Are you still there?” The man’s voice echoed through the speaker. “Yes, I’m here,” you said, quickly. You didn’t want to risk him hanging up on you and having to start this process all over again.

“So, it looks like our crew has already gone home for the day. We can’t send anyone to look at it until tomorrow morning.” He told you. You huffed, running your fingers through your hair. “Alright, thank you. Have a fantastic night,” you said, passive aggressively.

You threw your phone down onto the kitchen counter.

With the electricity out, that also meant no air conditioning. You pulled your hair up into a quick ponytail. You were already sweating, so you knew there was no way you could stay at your apartment for the night.

You glanced back down at your phone, and it felt like the answer was staring you in the face. You opened your contacts and saw the one person you knew you could always rely on.

You clicked on Carmy’s name, smiling to yourself when you saw his contact photo. It was a goofy picture of the two of you from a party that Sydney threw. He had his arm haphazardly thrown around your shoulders. You were sticking your tongue out at the camera while he kissed your cheek.

You both had a history of becoming more affectionate than normal when you had been drinking. That night was a great example.

It only rang once before he answered. “Hey, what’s up? Are you okay?” He asked, immediately. Having seen Carmy less than an hour ago, he knew something was going on if you were calling him so soon.

“Hey, I’m fine, no need to panic. I just have a little favor to ask you, but you can totally say no—” you started to explain before he interrupted you.

“You’ve got it. What do you need?” He answered without a second thought. It made your cheeks heat up. Carmy was always ready to drop everything for you.

“You don’t even know what it is yet, Berzatto.” You told him, giggling to yourself. You couldn’t see him, but you could perfectly imagine the way he’d shrug. “I don’t need to know. I have no reason to doubt you.” He said, simply.

“Not even gonna make me work for it?” You teased him.

“You never have to work for it. Not with me,” he told you, honestly. Every time you talked to Carmy, it became harder for you to pretend you weren’t head over heels for him.

“Alright, well the power is out at my apartment—” you started to tell him. “Come stay at my place tonight,” he offered. You felt so grateful for him.

“Are you sure it’s not a burden? You don’t have to feel pressured to say yes.” You assured him, but you knew his answer wouldn’t change.

“Of course I’m sure. I’m not letting you stay at your apartment with no power. Come on over. I’m making dinner now. You eaten yet?” He asked. “No, not yet,” you told him.

“Alright, perfect. I’ll make you a plate, and I’ll see you in a few minutes,” he said, and you could hear that he was smiling.

“Thank you, Carmy, truly. I’ll see you soon,” you said, before hanging up.

You quickly grabbed a bag and stuffed some essentials inside it before heading out the door. Carmy’s apartment was only a short walk from your apartment. After five or ten minutes, you were at his door.

You knocked on the door and heard a lot of noise on the other side. “It’s open,” you heard Carmy yell.

You turned the doorknob slowly before walking inside. You saw Carmy turning his pullout couch into a bed. He was neatly fixing the blankets and adding some pillows.

You also noticed the table was set with two plates of pasta, and you couldn’t tell where, but from somewhere in the apartment jazz music was playing.

“You didn’t have to do all of this for me, Carmy,” you said, feeling guilty. He put a final pillow on the bed and walked towards you. “I wanted to,” he said, simply. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a quick hug.

“I’m sorry about your apartment,” he said, sincerely.

“None of that is your fault, Carmy. You don’t have to apologize.” You replied. His hand grazed the small of your back, and he gestured towards the dining table. He even made sure to pull your chair out from the table for you.

“Such a gentleman,” you said, unable to get the smile off your face. You always felt like a giggly schoolgirl around Carmy. “Only the best for you,” he jokingly flirted, but wasn’t willing to push it any further.

Carmy cared about you so much. You were practically his world, and he was terrified that if he told you that, you’d leave.

After eating dinner, you both got ready for bed in Carmy’s bathroom. It made you feel like a married couple, and you had to force yourself to ignore it.

“I know I’ve asked you like ten times, but are you sure you don’t want my bed? I can sleep on the couch.” He offered, wanting you to feel right at home. You grabbed his hand without thinking about it.

“Carmy, you are so sweet, but I promise that sleeping on a couch will not kill me. I will be fine, sweetie.” You told him. You weren’t sure where the pet name had come from. You’d never called Carmy “sweetie” before.

Carmy had practically jumped out of his skin hearing the name roll so smoothly off your tongue. He only wanted to hear you call him sweetie from now on. It took everything in his power to not confess his love to you right then and there.

“Okay, fine,” he gave up, knowing you were more stubborn than he was. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug. You happily wrapped your arms around him as he held on to you.

You were taking in every part of this moment. You could smell his cologne, the same one he’d worn since you met him. You’d told him how much you liked it once, and he promised himself he’d never change it.

“Goodnight. Sleep well,” he said, kissing the top of your head and leaving you smitten.

You walked into the living room, and fell asleep within seconds of crawling under the blankets.

In the middle of the night, a sound woke you up. You jumped to sit up, looking around to see what the noise was. The bright LED numbers from the clock read 3:42. You realized the sound was someone jiggling the doorknob on the front door.

You jumped off the couch and ran into Carmy’s bedroom. You were half awake, and it was the only thing you could think of.

You reached forward and placed your hand on Carmy’s forearm, trying to wake him up. He jumped up as soon as you touched him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, quickly. Even being half awake and in a dark room, he was somehow still able to sense that you were afraid. “It sounds like somebody’s trying to come in the front door.” You told him, which woke him up fast.

He grabbed the bat from beside his bed and headed towards the front door. Your fear only made him more confident. He knew that he needed to step up and protect you.

You stayed behind him. He got within a few feet of the door. Then, you both saw the door start to open.

“Get the hell out,” Carmy threatened whoever was on the other side of the door.

The door quickly was flung all the way open. “Cousin, chill the fuck out. It’s me.” You both heard Richie say.

You both breathed a sigh of relief. Carmy dropped the bat down to his side, irritated at Richie. “Do you know what time it is? What the fuck are you doing here?” Carmy asked him.

Richie flipped on the light switch and held up his spare key, as though that explained his presence.

“Oh shit, Y/N? What’re you doing here?” Richie asked, finally noticing you standing behind Carmy.

Before you could even answer, Richie’s eyes darted between the two of you. He saw Carmy just in boxers and you in an oversized tshirt, which he assumed must’ve belonged to Carmy. Then, it made sense to him.

“Oh wait. You two are hooking up?” He asked, smirking at the both of you. Richie was the most convinced of all your friends that you and Carmy were meant for each other. He saw it all, especially the way that your’s and Carmy’s gaze always found each other in a crowded room.

“No!” You and Carmy both quickly assured him, but Richie’s smirk didn’t fade. He didn’t believe either of you for a second.

“She’s just sleeping here tonight,” Carmy tried to explain.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure there’s been lots of sleeping going on here.” Richie teased, causing Carmy to put his head in his hands.

“The electricity is out at my apartment, so Carmy’s letting me crash here tonight. That’s it,” you tried to shut Richie up.

“So you came here for the electricity?” Richie asked, very aware of the double entendre. He loved how much he could get under yours and Carmy’s skin with just a few comments. “You’re the worst, Richie.” Carmy said, exasperatedly.

“See, we have the pullout,” you said, gesturing towards the couch. You saw a mischievous glint in Richie’s eyes. Richie was like a brother, so you knew the joke he was going to make before he even opened his mouth.

“The pullout COUCH, you fucking child,” you said, smacking his arm. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carmy with his eyes trained on the floor and his hand covering his mouth as he tried not to laugh.

You crossed your arms and frowned at him. “You are not helping,” you said, glaring at him. He quickly held his hands up in surrender, not wanting you to hit him too.

Richie moved past the joke, but wasn’t quite ready to stop teasing you yet.

“The couch looks pretty messy to me. I wonder how that happened.” He teased. You knew that was just trying to get under your skin, but if you stopped denying what he was saying, he’d be so much worse.

“Yeah, cause I jumped up in a panic thinking someone was breaking in.” You defended. Carmy placed his hand on your back, rubbing small circles. You and Richie were the two most stubborn people he knew, and he knew that neither of you liked to lose an argument.

“And little Carmy was ready to protect you? I won’t lie, that’s pretty sweet, dude.” Richie said, watching the way Carmy’s cheeks turned a soft shade of pink.

“So, why’re you here?” Carmy asked, changing the subject. Richie plopped himself down on the couch. “I need to crash here too. My neighbors are in a big fight and they won’t shut the fuck up.” Richie explained.

“Well, you aren’t staying here. Go find some other fucking place to stay.” Carmy said. He didn’t want anyone to break up his alone time with you.

“That’s not what you told her.” Richie argued, gesturing towards you. Richie had a point, but Carmy would never tell you no.

“Richie, just please leave. Besides, there’s nowhere for you to sleep,” Carmy begged him. Carmy knew if Richie stayed out, it would ruin everything with you. Richie would tease every move he made, and he couldn’t be as affectionate with you. That should have been Carmy’s first indicator that you both were more than friends.

“I’m taking the couch, you two figure out the rest.” Richie said, grabbing you both by the wrists and shoving you into Carmy’s bedroom. Carmy went to open the door, but realized Richie was leaning against the back of the door.

“Richie, let us out,” Carmy begged. You went and sat down on Carmy’s bed. “Carmy, c’mere, you know Richie’s stubborn, and he won’t give up,” you said, patting the spot next to you.

“Reminds me of someone else,” he teased you as he sat beside you. You lightly smacked his arm. “I am not stubborn. I was out there defending myself but also defending you. He’s gonna be insufferable at work tomorrow. He’ll tell everyone that we hooked up, and we’ll never hear the end of it.” You rambled.

“He’s been trying to get us to hook up for years, it might just be easier to actually do it and shut him up.” Carmy joked before he could process the words he was saying.

You felt your eyes go wide. “I’m sorry, Carmen Berzatto. Did I mishear you? Did you just suggest that we hook up?” You asked, truly stumped.

“Don’t look at me like that. I was just joking.” He tried to backpedal. He couldn’t read your expression, which was a first. It was because if he’d actually suggested it, you would have said yes immediately.

“I’m sorry about this. First, your apartment. And now, Richie being Richie.” He said, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. “Carmy, none of this is your fault.” You said, grabbing his hand and tracing your finger over his tattoos.

You both were painfully aware of the fact that you’d never been this physically close before. This was beyond the level of affection that you both could defend as friendly.

“So, if it wasn’t Richie, you were gonna protect me?” You asked.

“Of course, I was. I’m always watching out for you. Gotta keep my girl safe,” he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

You sat straight up. Once again, you thought you’d misheard him. “Oh, fuck it,” he said, cupping your face and kissing you roughly. It didn’t take you any time to kiss him back.

He pressed his palms against your back and carefully pushed you back onto his bed. You ran your fingers across his toned chest. You could feel his muscles flex under your touch.

“I thought you said you were joking,” you teased him as he pressed kisses down your jaw. He let out a soft chuckle, his chest shaking against you. “Why? Do you want me to stop?” He teased.

“Fuck no,” you mumbled, cupping his face and pulling him down to kiss you. His fingers fumbled with the hem of your tshirt, letting his hands slip under it and caress your skin.

He felt you groan against the kiss and took it as a sign to keep going. One of his hands crept higher up your chest while he removed his other hand. He grabbed the bottom of your shirt and was ready to pull it over your head when the door burst open.

“Richie, the fuck? Get out,” Carmy yelled, quickly pulling your shirt back down to make sure you were completely covered. You hid your face in Carmy’s chest, not wanting to face Richie. You could already imagine the smug grin on his face.

“Well well well,” Richie said, in his signature “I told you so” tone.

Carmy didn’t want to put up with his gloating. “Richie, enough. Out!” He repeated, grabbing a pillow off the bed and throwing it at Richie’s face. The whole time he kept one arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him and letting you hide from Richie.

Richie jumped backwards to dodge the pillow and finally closed the bedroom door. As soon as the door clicked closed, Carmy cupped your face with one hand and kissed you again.

You could feel the butterflies in your stomach as he ran his hand down your side. He let his fingers trace every inch of your skin.

You placed your hand on his chest and pushed him away. “Did I do something wrong?” Carmy asked, immediately concerned.

You quickly shook your head, trying to reassure him. “There’s nothing I want more right now, but we can’t do this with Richie here. You know that, Carm.” You said, caressing his cheek.

“One part of my brain knows that, but the other part knows how long I’ve waited for this, for you,” pressing a soft kiss against your cheek, “but you’re right.” he said.

“We’ve waited this long, what’s a little longer?” You joked, smiling up at him. He kissed your forehead, falling in love with the way you were looking at him. “Tomorrow night. I’m gonna take you out to dinner, and we’ll have a real date. I’m gonna spoil you.” He said, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said, leaning forward to peck his lips.

You both sat in silence, soaking in the moment. You both knew that it was perfect, and you wanted to remember it forever.

“You look really pretty in the moonlight.” You complimented him, admiring the way Carmy’s curls framed his face.

“You’re making it really hard to not fall in love with you,” he teased, pulling you in for another kiss.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guacam011y @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @visenyaverse @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore @bookwormchick91 @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

[greengoblinswifey]

Hi, I’m new to your blog and I love your content, congrats :)

By the way, I read this and I’m obsessed https://www.tumblr.com/greengoblinswifey/764724824935432192/swim - would you ever be interested in writing more about them?

pairing— dad’s best friend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary— Ever since fucking your dad’s best friend during a family vacation, you and Rafe have been sneaking around, unable to resist each other. Over the weekend, with the house to yourselves, things escalate.

warnings— age gap(rafe is 40, reader is 20), unprotected sex, creampie, choking, nipple play, degrading kink, praise kink, daddy kink.

a/n— i don’t usually write part 2s of fics written long ago but just this once, enjoy <3 original fic here.

It all started on the family vacation. Your dad’s best friend, Rafe Cameron, had joined your family for the trip and you ended up in his hotel room, with his cum inside you by the end of the night. After you had returned back to Kildare, you and Rafe found yourselves alone on your balcony. The air was thick with sexual tension, the kind that had been built since everything that took place. “We can’t keep doing this,” he had murmured, but the way his eyes lingered on you told a different story. His resolve faltered the moment you kissed him, and from that night on, everything continued.

Since then, it had been a series of secret moments and hushed exchanges. Late night meetups, stolen kisses, and hook ups in the shadows of your dad’s house became your new normal. One night, you slipped into the kitchen for a glass of water, knowing Rafe was still downstairs. As you tiptoed pass, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you into the pantry. “You’re gonna get us caught,” you whispered, but the way his lips grazed your neck made it impossible to push him away. Footsteps echoed down the hall, and your dad’s voice called out, “Rafe, you still here?”

Clearing his throat, Rafe pulled back from you but his hand slipped to your pussy. “Yeah, just grabbing a snack,” he answered smoothly. You stifled a moan as your dad walked past, completely oblivious to what was happening just a few feet away from him.

Another time, you told your dad that Rafe was giving you a ride to a friend’s house. Instead, he drove you to his place. “You’re terrible,” you teased as he pulled you inside, his hands already roaming your body. “You love it,” he shot back, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that left you breathless. He didn’t waste any time, lifting you onto the couch, his fingers tracing the edge of your shirt and ripping it off along with the rest of your clothes. He fucked you on every surface of his house that night—the kitchen counter, the hallway wall, the bathroom counter, even outside on his balcony.

The closest call came when you and Rafe were tangled up in his bedroom. He had you under him, his mouth on yours and fingers in your pussy, and you were too caught up in the moment to hear the sound of your dad’s car pulling up outside. The jingle of keys snapped you both to attention. “He’s here,” Rafe hissed, grabbing your clothes and ushering you into his closet. You pressed your back against the wall, heart pounding, as the bedroom door opened.

“I swear she’s hiding something,” your dad said, his voice low but firm. “She’s been so jumpy lately. You don’t think she has a boyfriend, do you?”

Rafe’s voice was calm, steady. “She’s a good kid. Probably just going through a phase. She’ll be fine.”

Your chest tightened as you heard your dad sigh and leave the room to hang in the living room. The door clicked shut, and Rafe opened the closet. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, but the smirk on his face told you he wasn’t complaining.

A family dinner at Rafe’s house carried on, the table filled with laughter and chatter. You had been stealing glances at him all evening, your dad oblivious to the fire crackling between you two. After a while, you excused yourself, saying you needed to use the bathroom upstairs.

A few moments later, just as you were fixing your hair in the mirror, the bathroom door opened quietly, and Rafe stepped in, locking it behind him. Your heart raced as you turned to him. “Rafe, are you crazy? Everyone’s downstairs!” you hissed, but the smirk on his face silenced any real protest.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he murmured, stepping closer. “You’ve been driving me insane all night looking so fucking sexy.” His lips brushed against yours, and before you could respond, he had you pressed against the sink, his cock slipping inside you.

“Daddy,” you moaned as hands slid down to your clit rubbing firmly, louder than you intended.

The next second, your dad’s voice echoed up the stairs. “Sweetie? Everything alright?”

Panic flooded you, but Rafe was faster. His hand clamped gently over your mouth, his lips grazing your ear. “Answer him,” he whispered, his voice low and commanding as he thrusted inside you.

You struggled to find your voice, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Y-yeah, Dad. Everything’s fine!” you called, your voice trembling.

Rafe chuckled softly, his hand dropping from your mouth and back to your clit. “Good girl,” he murmured, though the teasing gleam in his eyes made your pulse quicken. He pressed his lips to your neck again then picked up the pace inside you, making you moan softly, “Daddy,” before you could stop yourself.

His hand quickly covered your mouth again, smirking. “Careful, princess,” he murmured, his voice filled with amusement.

Once you both came, you quickly adjusted your dress and hurried downstairs, still flustered. Your dad looked up, giving you a curious glance. “You okay? You look off.”

You waved it off, trying to sound casual. “Just tired,” you muttered, avoiding eye contact.

A few minutes later, Rafe strolled in, calm and collected. He poured himself a glass of water, catching your eye briefly with a knowing smirk. You refused to look at him, your heart still racing, as you silently prayed no one had noticed anything.

Your parents had left for the weekend, trusting Rafe to keep an eye on you and your little brother while they were away. It was your dad’s idea, of course. “Just make sure they don’t burn the house down,” he had joked before leaving, clapping Rafe on the shoulder. Rafe, ever the perfect best friend, had agreed without hesitation, offering his usual smile.

Your brother barely stuck around. The moment dinner was over, he was out the door to meet his friends, leaving just you and Rafe in the house. You could feel his gaze on you from the moment your brother left, and by the time the sound of the car pulling out of the driveway faded, you knew exactly where this night was headed.

“You’ve had my dick hard all day,” Rafe said as you walked past him in the living room, his voice low and teasing. Before you could respond, he caught your wrist and tugged you gently onto his lap. “You’re such a tease, you know that?”

“I haven’t done anything,” you replied, though your smirk gave you away.

“Exactly,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw. “It’s the ‘nothing’ that’s killing me.”

The kiss started soft, but it didn’t take long before it deepened. His hands were everywhere, on your waist, your thighs, your ass—as he pulled you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough. “Daddy,” you gasped between kisses, “not here. My mom will kill us if anything happens to her expensive couch.”

That was all the encouragement he needed to scoop you up effortlessly, carrying you to the kitchen. He placed you on the counter, his lips finding yours again. His hands gripped your thighs as he pressed his hard cock between your legs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your lips. “Can’t believe you’re all fucking mine.”

He couldn’t wait. Usually your hook ups were a barrage of his lips all over you, including on your pussy but he needed you immediately. He’d have the rest of the weekend to make you feel his mouth and his fingers in your pussy and your mouth slobbering all over his dick.

“Fuck,” you both gasped, your foreheads pressed against each other as his big, thick, cock penetrated your tight pussy. No matter how many times he fucked you, your pussy couldn’t get used to how big he was. Those were the perks of being with an older man, your dad’s best friend.

When you finally adjusted to his size, he began rolling his hips to meet yours steadily, his muscular figure flexing and towering over you. You could be as loud as you wanted and your moans echoed throughout the kitchen.

“That’s it, I love hearing you moan. My dirty fucking girl, so fucking dirty letting me fuck you on your parents’ kitchen counter,” he panted, his signature smirk making its way to his lips.

“Mhmm—you can fuck me all over their house too,” you croaked out.

The twitch of his cock inside you told you the idea was daunting and turned him on. His thrusts sped up and he leaned down, ripping the sorry excuse of a crop top you had on and sucked on your tits. You ran your fingers through his hair as he did, spreading your legs even wider to take his dick.

“F-feels so good daddy, I love it when you suck on my tits,” you murmured.

He moved to the other, swirling his tongue then taking it between his teeth, his pace relentless as he pounded into you.

“Cum for me, cum for you daddy, I can feel how tight you’re getting,” he growled, leaning up to wrap his hand around your throat.

At his command, your entire body shook and your release hit you like a truck. You cried out, the sound bouncing off the walls as you squirted on his cock and the counter but he wasn’t finished with you.

He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he brought you into the hallway that led to the stairs. He pushed you against the wall, lifting and slamming you onto his cock.

“Oh my God,” you mewled, nails dragging across his back surely to leave deep red marks.

You held on for dear life as he slammed up into you, his cock stretching you out and making your pussy quiver.

“Fucking take it like a good girl,” he growled, “you can fucking take it. You love my cock.”

He held under your ass, slamming you down on him as he thrusted up into you, your tits bouncing wildly.

“Yes daddy! I love your cock!” you moaned.

Only he could have you like this—screaming while he fucked you. Your brother could be home any minute but you didn’t care, all you cared about was Rafe fucking you rough.

The kitchen, the back patio, the hallway—he didn’t seem to care about stopping himself, letting the thrill of the moment guide him. Each time you came, he’d fuck you on a different surface again, he was relentless.

When you finally made it upstairs to your bedroom, you were both breathless, laughing quietly as he stumbled inside. Rafe closed the door behind him with his cock still inside you and your legs wrapped around him, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m going to hell because of you,” he murmured.

“Good,” you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Then we’ll go together.”

His grin was devilish as he pressed you back against the bed. “I’ll make it worth it,” he promised, his hands roaming your body.

The night continued as he pushed your legs to the back of your head, thrusting so deep, you could feel him in your cervix.

“You’re fucking me so good daddy,” you moaned.

“I know baby, I’ll never get tired of this tight pussy.”

He held your legs behind your head as he continued pounding into you. He felt your pussy flutter around his cock and he knew you were about to cum for the fourth time.

He reached down, rubbing rough circles on your clit as you sobbed.

“C-can’t,” you managed to say, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable.

“Yes the fuck you can,” he growled, “sluts who let their dad’s best friend fuck them will cum as much as I want them to.”

With that, you let go. Your body arched off the bed and your fingernails dug into his back, trailing all over as you writhed and shook from the soul crashing orgasm that took you over. Rafe continued fucking you as you squirted, soaking the sheets below and all over his abdomen.

“That’s my dirty fucking slut, good girl, I’m so proud of you baby. Now it’s time to take daddy’s cum,” he cooed.

He pounded into you, groping your tits as he did and before long, you could feel ropes of his cum spurt deep inside your pussy.

You both moaned in pleasure and you lay tangled together in the sheets, your head resting on his chest as his fingers traced circles on your back. “Doing this is so risky,” you murmured sleepily, though you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it.

Rafe kissed the top of your head, his voice soft and affectionate. “Worth every second.”

The rest of the weekend was nothing short of chaos, though not in the way your parents might have imagined. You and Rafe couldn’t keep your hands off each other everytime your brother left the house. Every room became a new playground—kissing in the hallway, tangled sheets in your bed, the two of you reveling in the freedom that came with an empty house.

Rafe had you memorized, and you him. His hands traced every inch of you, and yours left their mark, quite literally. Long, red scratches adorned his back from when you couldn’t help but dig your nails into him while he fucked you. He wore them proudly, a smug grin every time you glanced at them.

By Sunday afternoon, reality set in. Your parents were due home, and the house looked like a tornado had swept through. You scrambled to clean every surface with your cum, laughing as Rafe teased you. “Who knew you could actually clean?” he joked, watching you wipe down the counters.

“I’ll throw this at your head,” you threatened, holding up a sponge, though the smile tugging at your lips softened the blow.

By the time your parents walked through the door, the house was spotless. Your mom looked around, pleasantly surprised. “Wow, you actually cleaned?” she said, raising an eyebrow at Rafe. “No maids this weekend?”

Rafe, ever the smooth talker, grinned. “She wanted to surprise you. Thought you’d appreciate a break from the usual.”

Your mom beamed, clearly impressed. “Well, it’s a nice change. Thank you, both of you.”

Later, the whole family gathered by the pool—your dad, your brother, his girlfriend, and Rafe, who lounged shirtless in a chair and your mom cooking. You tried not to stare, but the marks on his back were a glaring reminder of your weekend.

Your dad noticed too. “What the fuck happened to your back?” he asked, squinting. “Did you get into a fight with a cheetah?”

Rafe, completely unfazed, smirked. “Nah, just got into a sex fight with this hot chick.”

Your dad burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Well, I hope I get to meet her someday.”

Rafe chuckled, his eyes flicking to you for the briefest moment. “We’ll see,” he said.

You chose that moment to walk by, your hips swaying just enough to catch his attention. You didn’t look back, but you knew Rafe was watching, his grin widening as he took in the sight of you.

[maiiuelle]

˚❀˚

rafe can’t handle it when you cry. he’s a problem solver at heart, and if something is bothering you, in his eyes it’s his responsibility to fix it. he was on a business call when you burst through the front doors of tannyhill, cheeks already stained with tears as your kitten heels click through the house. “rafe?” you call, sniffling and desperate to find him.

he hears you, attention shifting from his meeting to you. rafe is used to your dramatics, but something about your tone sets off alarm bells in his head. he gets up from his desk, cutting off the investor on the other line. “hey — hey man, i hate to do this to you, but could you just give me one second? somethin’ just came up.” he puts the call on hold and shoves his phone in his pocket before they can protest, and just in time for you to walk through his office doors. you’re a mess, shivering with mascara running wildly down your flushed cheeks. rafe’s forehead creases in concern, rushing around his desk to meet you where you’re standing so you can throw yourself into his arms.

“woah — woah, baby. breathe for me, alright?” rafe’s voice is soft but demanding, and he pulls away when you don’t respond, placing his warm hands on your upper arms to steady you. “hey — tell me what’s goin’ on.”

you suck in a few shaky breaths, whining and pawing at your eyes. you’re already so upset, and trying to condense your frustration into any sort of coherent answer has you even more overwhelmed. you just shake your head, more tears welling up in your eyes. “i don’t know! everything is going wrong.”

“okay, listen to me. you have to breathe.” he leans down to your level, commanding more of your attention as he brings one hand to wipe your tears. rafe knows you’re a sensitive girl, sweet and delicate — it’s one of the things he likes the most about you. as much as he hates seeing you upset, he does love being your knight in shining armor. “what do you mean going wrong? what’s going wrong, princess?”

you finally take a deep breath, wet eyelashes fluttering. it really is everything. you offered to plan a surprise birthday party for one of your friends at the country club, but now that you also have to start organizing your plans for midsummers, you don’t know when you’re going to organize it — and soon enough, tourist season is going to make work at the golf club impossible. the icing on top is that rafe has been busy all day, barely even texting you between meetings, and you really missed him.

all of it comes out in a jumbled string of sobs until you finish with a deep sigh, lip still wobbling as your watery puppy-dog eyes bore into his. “alright.” rafe starts, letting go of you now that you’ve settled a little. “tell you what, i’ll help you out with the shit for midsummers. we can head out to the mainland tomorrow and get you a nice dress, yeah?” he pauses to make sure you’re following, and you nod with a sniffle — already feeling a little better with a promised shopping trip. “and, baby — i know you can handle a little party planning. n’if you need me to, i got no problem pulling a few strings to get you a nice reservation, okay, but for now — you’ve gotta relax. go take a nice bath and wait for me, alright? i have to take this.” rafe pulls his phone from his pocket again, the screen lighting up with the call still on hold. he brings his free hand up to wipe your remaining tears, followed by a gentle kiss pressed to your forehead. “you’re alright, princess — i’ll be right there.”

the whole ordeal has your head spinning, one second you’re flying off the handle with anxiety and now you feel light as a feather. but that’s why you came to tannyhill in the first place, knowing rafe would know just what to do to fix your terrible mood.

˚❀˚

[cherryrikis]

HEAVY HEART

PAIRING football captain!bf jake x fem reader

WARNINGS swearing, dehydration, mentions of jake killing himself (but its just a reference to an argument), a lot of break up talk (spoiler alert - this is not foreshadowing), jake’s kinda depressed, crying and a lot more kinds of sappy stuf

GENRE angst, fluff, also not proofread

SYNOPSIS jake returns home nearly 3 weeks post argument, only to find the house empty. to the public, it seemed you two were broken up, but he denied it. your relationship couldn’t end like this. when you finally do come back, you don’t expect jake to be sleeping in your once shared bed. and you definitely don’t expect him to beg for forgiveness.

part 1 is here. but this can be read as a standalone!

to jake, the world seemed colorless without you.

anything and everything you both once shared a love for, seemed to dull with only one person.

the flowers he bought you over a month ago had wilted, with no one to take care of them.

when jake returned to your shared apartment the day after the argument, he didn’t think you’d be the one to leave. at least, that’s what it seemed like. you didn’t technically leave, just, away from the house.

luckily, jake was able to find out through heeseung that you’ve been staying at yizhuo’s house. at least you were safe.

she’ll come back. she just needs time. he often reminded.

but days bled into weeks, into nearly a month that you’ve been gone, and jake found himself longing for you even more than before.

jake’s usual routine was to brush his teeth, change his clothes, and lie down in bed as he hugged your pillow (now stained with his tears).

his hair was so nappy, it had gone days, nearly a week, without being brushed out.

jake had grown accustomed to this sad usual cycle. but he still wasn’t used to being by himself. at least, not used to being without you.

so when he heard the faint click of the lock at the front door, he jumped up in shock. jake immediately discarded the depressed pillow and ran up to you with your luggage and all.

he pulled you into a tight hug, nearly forgetting the current situation all because he missed you being in his hold. jake realized how much he took you for granted. he just wanted his girlfriend back.

but it wasn’t that easy.

“oh, sorry..” he cleared his throat as he felt you gently try to pull away.

with the space between you two, you could see his features more clearly. your heart ached as you examined his pale face.

the more you looked at him, the more you realized there were three things for certain. one, jake most likely hasn’t gone outside since he came back home from jay’s (due to how pale he appeared and how cold his skin felt).

two, jake hasn’t been sleeping well, if he had even slept at all, due to all the crying he’s done (thanks to his dark circles and puffy eyes).

three, he’s missed you so much beyond compare, you nearly felt the slightest bit of sympathy for him (your discarded pillow on the floor made it clear as you walked into the once shared bedroom).

“can we talk please?” jake croaked out with a sore voice, as he’s had no reason to use it in the last few weeks.

he continued to follow you around the room as you walked over to the closet, tossing your heavy luggage inside of it.

“i know you haven’t been doing well. i heard jungwon and heeseung tried to visit. but you never answered.” you ignored, as you reached up to pull jake’s old sweater (which you stole) off the hanger.

he watched you struggle for a little while, before ultimately grabbing it for you. “thanks.” you murmured, pulling the soft cotton material over your head.

“y/n-” jake started, only for you to cut him off again. “and sunghoon. jay as well. jay and sunghoon actually were the ones who called me, convinced me to come over.”

you briefly looked up at your boyfriend, pausing your actions before moving back down to continue unpacking your luggage.

“y/n..” he trailed off. you acted as if you hadn’t heard him though, focusing on unpacking your bags.

“y/n!” jake called out. his head had been pounding with dehydration now. he wasn’t sure if he was yelling or whispering. the sudden change in behavior had you turning around entirely as you flinched.

“please, baby girl. y/n. can’t we just talk?” he begged. jake watched as you stood up from the ground, before following you as you walked passed him, across the room.

“whats there to talk about? i thought i nagged you so much to the point you ‘wanted to kill yourself’.” you quoted back to your previous argument that caused this distance between you.

jake grabbed you by your arm, forcefully turning you around so you could face him. but when he finally met your gaze, he took note of your glossy eyes, realizing the amount of tears you were holding back.

“jakey. all those things you said were unbelievable, and incredibly hurtful, jake. you can’t just expect me to forgive you. i just.. need more time.” you sighed, rubbing your forehead in frustration as you plopped down onto the bed.

“even more time then this last month?” he asked, taking a seat next to you.

“yes jake! even more time than that! you don’t understand how much damage you really did to me. i came here with a heavy heart, not even sure if i wanted to be around you. but when i heard from your friends how poorly you were taking care of yourself, i couldn’t just leave you.” you sniffled.

jake reached up to wipe your tears, but you slapped his arm away, moving to wipe your cheek with the back of your hand.

he gave you your space, watching you scoot further away so you had easier access to the tissue box on the floor. the moment was still before he finally spoke up again.

"i'm not asking for forgiveness, im asking you to hear me out. please, my angel girl. im begging you. i want you to know how sorry i am." jake's eyes too began to water.

he watched your face as you hesitated to let the words out, before you finally moved back closer towards him.

"okay. we can talk." you whisper, before grabbing your forgotten pillow off the floor.

“i was just.. so filled with stress, and anger. between failing so many classes, grades dropping, and coach saying i had terrible performance in the last few games, i wasn’t sure if what to do.” jake paused, watching to see if you were paying attention. you nodded in response, gesturing for him to continue.

“i guess i’m just saying i wasn’t able to handle the stress of a relationship back then. if i couldn’t be happy, i had no idea how to make you happy. and i was mad at myself for disappointing you. mad at you for being disappointed in me. everything just kinda came out in the moment. whether you heard it or not, i felt so guilty for saying something i didn’t mean to say.” he sighed.

“oh, my poor jake,” you pouted, moving to rest your head on his shoulder. “baby, if you were going through all of this, you should’ve told me. i know you hate to talk but there aren’t things you can go through alone. and sure, i may have been upset with you for forgetting or missing dates and not communicating, but never disappointed. never ever was i disappointed in you.”

“i guess i should work on that. i just hate confrontation.” he sighed. the two of you chuckled in unison. “it’s okay, i’ll help you out. baby steps, my love.”

“i’m just so scared of hurting you again,” jake started once more. “you’re just so fragile, so delicate to me, you know? i hate the thought of putting you through all that shit again. because i love you. so i want to be more open with you.”

you were glad jake wanted to change for the better, and for you. but you couldn’t lie when you said your stomach dropped a little at the thought of all that he said. but in the long duration you spent apart, it’s clear he’d been thinking about what he wanted to say. he had matured. jake reassured you it won’t happen again, and that’s all you needed. his reassurance.

jake pulls you down, so that the two of you are lying flat on the soft bed. you attempt to sit up, only to be brought back down as jake took your pillow out your hands.

“let me go cook something for us baby.” you hum as he began to pepper kisses all across your cheeks, your forehead, and jawline.

but jake only held you tighter, pulling you closer toward his now warm body (if even possible). “just stay with me mama. you’ve been gone for so long and you already want to leave.” he whined. you chuckle in response, before finally meeting him halfway and pressing a kiss on his plump, dry lips.

"you still have my pillow." you raise a brow.

jake sat up slightly, to throw your pillow across the room. "you don't need it. you have me." he replied, before leaning back down so he could bring your head to lay on his chest.

you smile as you felt his heartbeat begin to beat faster. you were home, and all was forgiven for now. that’s all that mattered.

maybe dinner could wait.

networks ! @en-diaries

taglist ! @pinksweetlittlepiano @yunjica @sunshine-skz @stormy1408 @gardenwons @hellokiittylexii @ivyvioletcarson @river-demon-slayer @blvengene @strawberrynull @maiteeeeesstuff @firstclassjaylee @mersmoon

[dandelionsresilience]

whether the internet becomes an intolerable surveillance state, ubiquitous subscription model, or unusably ad- or AI-ridden shithole, I think we need to remember

how to do things offline

either on your personal hard drive (just because it’s an app doesn’t mean the information is stored in your device) or on paper. I’m not saying the collapse of the internet is imminent, and I’m not suggesting we do everything completely without technology, or even stop using it until we have to. (to be clear, I also don’t think the internet will just blink out of existence, suddenly stop being a thing at all; rather I think it might continue to lose its usefulness to the point where it’s impossible to get anything done. anyway) but some people may have forgotten how we got by before the internet (I almost have!), and the younger generation might not have experienced it at all.

I figure most people probably use the internet mainly for communication with friends and family, entertainment and creation (eg. writing), and looking up how to do things, so here’s how to do those things offline:

First and most importantly, download everything important to you onto at least one hard drive and at least one flashdrive! files can get corrupted and hardware can get damaged or lost, but as long as you keep backup copies, you have much-closer-to-guaranteed access versus hoping a business doesn’t decide to paywall, purge, or otherwise revoke your access. I would recommend getting irreplaceable photos printed as well

download and/or print/write down:

anything important to you - photos/videos, journals, certificates, college transcripts

contact info - phone numbers and/or addresses of friends/family (know how to contact them if you can’t use your favourite messaging app), doctors (open hours would be good too), veterinarians if you have pets, and work

how-to’s - recipes (one, two), emergency preparedness (what do I do if… eg. I smell gas)

other things you might google: cleaning chemicals to NOT mix, what laundry tag symbols mean, people food dogs and cats can and can’t eat, plant toxicity to pets

and know offline ways to find things out - local radio station, newspaper, a nearby highway rest area might have a region map, public libraries usually have a bunch of resources

also, those of you who get periods should strongly consider not using period tracking apps! here’s how to track your period manually

free printable period tracker templates (no printer? public libraries usually charge a few cents per page, or you can recreate it by hand)

moving on to entertainment, you can still get most media for free! it’s completely legal to download your favourite movies to your own personal hard drive, you just can’t sell or distribute copies (not legal advice)

movies: wcostream.tv (right click the player) - the url changes every once in a while but usually redirects; I recently noticed that it’s hiding a lot of movies behind “premium,” so it may or may not work anymore | download youtube videos

music: how to get music without streaming it | legal free downloads

games: steamunlocked.net - doesn’t have every game and can be slow to update, but very reliable

books: free online libraries | legal free downloads

otherwise passing time:

active outdoor games

for road trips (social verbal games)

for when power’s out

for sheltering in place (not all offline, but good ideas)

board games (often found at thrift stores)

ad-free customisable games collection (mobile)

read, write, draw, or whatever your craft is, sing, dance, clean, reorganise, take a bath

go outside - excuses include napping (if safe), eating, reading, finding cool plants/animals/rocks, playing with the dog

places to go include:

zoos and museums can be surprisingly cheap

parks and nature preserves

library, mall, or game shop

and a few miscellaneous things for good measure:

time budgeting | household management

how to use a planner | I’ve had success with visually blocked-out schedules like these

please add on if you have any other offline alternatives to common uses of the internet!

[novemberheart]

{overview} Your heat doesn't quite go as planned. Kate provides your pack with a predicament

{warnings} fem reader, poly141, a/b/o dynamics, heat cycles, MDNI, heat cycles, p in v sex, knotting, cursing

Chapter 22 <- Chapter 23 -> Chapter 24

There was a soft knock at the door making John stir.

“Come in,” he groaned, sitting up with you still against his chest. You mumbled something incoherent, drifting right back to sleep. Johnny came in with two takeout containers. John stood up, keeping a firm grip on you as he tossed a few pillows onto the floor, knowing you would throw a fit if your nest got dirtied by food. Johnny set the containers on the ground, grabbing Simon's hoodie off the bed and tugging it over your head.

You were out of it. Just a few hours ago Kyle had come in to make sure the two of you had water and said you were up and chatting, now you were like one of the pillows on the ground. There had been no moans or groans since last night, your first time, making everyone a bit nervous. You should be working through your heat. John threw on a pair of sweats, as Johnny had you propped up against some pillows. You smiled at him softly, wrapping your arms around his bicep. He pressed a kiss against your heated forehead, wanting nothing more than to stay with you.

“You can stay, ‘Tav,” John assured. He didn't seem too out of it. If it wasn't for his dark eyes and flushed appearance he would seem exactly the same. Johnny smiled, pulling you into his lap, and grabbing your lunch to feed you. You purred against him, happy to smell something other than John’s campfire and fog scent.

“Simon wants to call a doctor,” Johnny spoke slowly. John hummed, already knowing what he was speaking about. You should be deep into your heat by now, especially after being sexually active. He should be deep into his rut as well.

“Is a bit concerning isn't it?” John sighed, between bites. “Give her the rest of today. Her body is experiencing a lot of things it hasn't before. Our girl just needs some time to work through it, right pretty?” he questioned looking over at you. Your eyes were nearly closed, staring up at Johnny like you hadn't seen him in months.

“That’s fair,” Johnny agreed, working a spoonful of corn into your mouth. It was quiet for a moment.

“You gonna mark her?” Johnny asked- bordering on a request. It was the thing he hated most about being a beta. He would never be able to see his mark against your skin. At least he would be able to wear yours when the time was right.

“Didn’t quite discuss that too much before. We got a bit heated making out one time and she asked me to do it then. But I want her to have a clear head when she makes that decision,” John explained. His hand reached out, running up and down your leg.

“Would you let her mark you?”

“Absolutely,” John replied without missing a beat.

Kate groaned, trying to balance her coffee and tablet in one hand to fish her phone out of her pocket.

“Laswell,” She spoke, using her elbow to push a pile of papers off the edge of her desk.

“Kyle found something,” She immediately recognized Simon’s voice.

“That’s one of the things he’s good at,” Kate shot back, plopping down on the couch in her office.

“It's about our girl.”

Laswell froze.

“What’s wrong? She alright?” She had just talked to you a few days ago. You were nervous about the situation with your heat but were happy otherwise.

“Kyle was looking at her tracking app a couple of days ago when he noticed another chip under her name popping up under the ‘connect’ list. He clicked it and it knew her location and everything,” Simon explained.

“Did it have another name registered to it? Like how you and John are on hers,” Kate asked.

“Negative,” Simon sighed. “Kyle thinks it disconnected from the owner, that's how we were able to find it.”

“You think the owner is going to want to pursue it?” Kate questioned, her stomach beginning to turn.

“Hope they do,” Simon grunted. “It says it’s located in her leg- the chip.”

“The leg?” Kate mumbled. “It couldn't be a chip then. She would’ve felt it. It would have to be a small wire of some kind. Can you put her on the phone?”

“She’s in lockdown with the old man,” it was vague, but Kate knew what he meant. It also explained why John wasn't blowing up her phone right now. They couldn't discuss it with the two of you in such a vulnerable state. “Me and Kyle were thinking about flying back to base,” Simon added.

“You think it's that serious? Maybe she got it when she was little?”

“She would've known about it by now. They aren't meant to be in more than five years. Besides, we can't take any chances. If we don't pursue this and something happens”- Simon cut himself off.

“Look at L.T. Ghost taking care of his pack,” Kate smiled. She couldn't quite tell if the sound on the other end was a purr or static. “Let me dig through some medical files. If there is danger, you all should be there, especially when they are this vulnerable,” Kate reminded. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thank you, Laswell. For everything,” He clicked the red button before she could respond.

She had a feeling you were included in that ‘everything.’

It felt like you were watching yourself from behind a glass screen. You could see everything, hear everything, yet you couldn't take control. Forced to watch from the sidelines. John had eased the ache in your body last night, and the feeling had yet to return. Why hadn't it? What was wrong with you? Why couldn't you just be a normal omega? You couldn't even perform in your heat, or help your alpha with his still lingering rut. What good were you?

A loud whine woke him up, his head quickly shooting up from its resting place against your stomach.

“What pretty girl?” John soothed you, wrapping you tightly in his arms. How could he be so nice- so understanding? He should be out looking for a better omega.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, as he swept the tears away.

“Nothin' for you to be sorry about, love,” he assured instantly. He paused for a moment. “Why are you apologizing?” he asked softly. You hadn't done anything but be a perfect little omega for him, despite the fuzziness in your brain.

“I can’t,” was all you were able to get out, sobs wracking your body.

“Bloody hell, sweetheart,” he cursed softly. “No reason for that,” he used the hem of his shirt to wipe away your tears.

“I’m not a good omega,” you gasped through your sobs. A warning growl rumbled in his chest, making you jump. It was a natural instinct to bare your teeth at someone who talked b about your omega- even if it was the omega themselves.

“There’s definitely no reason for that,” he snarled, pressing a rough kiss against your cheek. He slowly put the pieces together as to what you were getting at. He didn't even think the toll of not completing your heat would have on your self-esteem. That was bullshit though. You were much more than how well you could fuck him in a delirious state and he was a bit surprised you even entertained the idea. His sensitive girl.

“If I can't get into a heat how am I supposed to take a knot, or be marked?” you grumbled sadly, finding the energy to paw at your face.

“You can get into a heat, pretty. Your body is still adjusting to the pack and to me. By this time next year we’ll be laughing about this.”

Next year? He wanted to keep you?

“You still want me?” It was the lowest sentence you had ever uttered, yet it was a blow to him.

His first feeling was that of insult. Did you think that lowly of him? That he would toss you to the curb just because you were having a bit of trouble? Then he saw the look in your eyes. You were so small- beat down and defeated over something he had hardly thought twice about. You weren't the you he was used to, you were the raw, unfiltered, scared version of yourself. The version that had jumped from omega holding house to omega holding house. The version of you that had been let down by so many people in your life. The version of you that had been overlooked and disregarded due to your status.

Now that version of you was his.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

“More than anything,” was all he could manage.

You were relieved when the fire returned in your veins. Your hands patting your alpha’s chest to wake him. He gasped awake, his trained eyes scanning around the room for a threat, relaxing when he just saw your happy face. He smiled softly until your scent hit him.

“There you are, pretty girl. Just needed some time,” He chuckled, rolling over so you were on your back. You nipped at his neck, your hands wandering under his shirt. He lets you do as you please, without rushing or urging you along. The soft pads of your fingers running over scars he had long forgotten about.

“You’re so handsome,” you mumbled, tugging his shirt off the rest of the way. He smiled softly, his beard tickling your cheek as he kissed along your clothed shoulder. The bare skin of your legs against his wasn't enough for him. He tugged Simon’s hoodie off of you, purring as he was finally able to feel you fully.

This time he went slow- as slow as he should've gone for your first time. He was drawing it out, with every drag of his hips you were pushed near the end only to be yanked back. You were a desperate little thing under him. So needy and scratchy that he had to put you on your stomach.

“Only patient girls get kisses,” is what he had told you. You whined, leaning your head back, hoping he was just being a tease. His hand gripped the base of your neck, gently pushing it back into the pillows. He chuckled- a bit cruelly- from behind you, a particularly deep thrust making you cry out.

“Please?” you whined, your bottom lifting off the bed so prettily for him. He hummed, running a hand all the way up your arched back. He leaned over you, his lips pressing against your wet cheek.

“I think the betas spoil you too much,” he mumbled, his hips returning to the slow speed. “Think all you have to do is say please with those pretty eyes and you get whatever you want hmmm?” he half-asked, keeping himself sheathed inside you.

“Yeah,” you agreed softly, making him chuckle. He kissed the small ring on your finger Kyle had bought you. The beta was just supposed to run to the store to get popcorn for movie night and ended up coming back with a ring that cost half a paycheck.

You wiggled your hips, taking it upon yourself to start pushing yourself back on him. He watched as you slowly found your own rhythm. He cursed softly, watching as your cunt swallowed him whole. He gave you soft encouragement, the grit in his voice making the tightness in your stomach swell.

“Can I?” you asked through a strangle moan. Even after all his teasing, you were still his obedient omega. His chest rumbled, causing the vibration to shoot straight through you.

“Course, sweetheart. You earned it,” he praised. That was all you needed, shaking around his cock with a breathy moan. He held your hips in place to keep you from running away, your spasming walls causing his eyes to roll back.

He had hardly a minute to catch his breath before you were pushing yourself back against him again.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he growled, immediately meeting your thrusts. He wrapped an arm around your waist, rolling over onto his back taking you with him. He forced your legs apart, your back against his chest as he drove his hips up into you. The new position hit something inside you that turned you into a purring ragdoll. “Purring from my cock?” he questioned through a groan like he couldn't quite believe it. His hands had a bruising grip on your thighs, the force of his thrusts nothing but mean.

There was swelling between his thighs, and even in his dazed state he could figure out what it was. You seemed to know too- at least instinctually, judging by the way you tried to push yourself down on it. “Think you can take my knot, pretty girl?” he asked softly, his pace beginning to slow so you could talk. You nodded your head eagerly, your face pressing against the side of this neck.

He resumed, his knot slamming against you with every thrust. You came unexpectedly, your cunt gushing around him and over the sheets. You were shaking in his grasp and he began rolling his knot into you, your slick making it a bit easier. Your hips tried to pull away, but he knew it was just from overstimulation. He matched your purrs, the action causing your body to relax enough for him to ease the rest of himself in. Your body stilled as the two of you locked together, John groaning breathlessly.

You could feel his heartbeat against your back, a warm buzz filtering throughout your body.

Your world slowly turned black.

Two days had come and gone. Today marks the fourth day of your heat.

Judging by your smell. Today is the last day. You were in the bathtub, the water too scalding for John’s enjoyment, but your sore body needed it. The alpha taking great pride in scrubbing and massaging you clean.

You hadn't been marked. John had come close numerous times, but was able to hold back. He couldn't do something that drastic without discussing it with you in length. Despite that, you had a large spot on your neck- where he planned to mark you. He couldn't stop running his thumb over it.

“Gonna be ready to see the boys?” He hummed, his fingers scratching against your scalp. You knew he was referring to Simon. Johnny and Kyle snuck in during the pockets of peace between rounds. Johnny to give you food and Kyle just to hold you.

You had missed Simon. When you were feeling extra sensitive just knowing he was outside the door made you feel a hundred times better. You nodded, as he washed the shampoo out of your hair.

“I miss him,” You smiled.

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder - especially with Simon,” he teased, making you giggle.

You put on fresh clothes, grabbing Vernie off the bed. The bed was in rough shape. John came up behind you.

“Don’t worry about that,” he insisted, pressing a kiss against the side of your head. The sheets had been shredded, the headboard practically crushed to bits and you could only imagine what it would look like under a black light. While you were only half of the reason it was in the condition it was, you still felt responsible.

“Go say hello to your boys. They miss you,” John smiled, throwing on a shirt. You beamed, practically bouncing down the hallway. They were still asleep sprawled out on the pull out couch in the living room to keep Simon company. You put Vernie down and she quickly stumbled her way over to Simon. You crawled over Kyle, curling yourself under his chin. He gasped awake, causing the others to jump.

“Still in one piece?” He mumbled, still playful even in his groggy state. He rolled over so you were under him- a position you had grown quite familiar with the past few days- resting his body on top of yours. You could hear Johnny mumble something, scrambling across Simon so he could get his paws on you. He growled as Kyle refused to move, worming his arm between the two of you and pulling you so you were smushed between them. “Can’t even get a minute?” Kyle huffed, burying his face in your hair.

“Her fault for being so pretty,” Johnny grumbled, placing the blame on you. His teeth nipping at the spots covering your neck from John. He swallowed back his disappointment at none of them being a claiming bite. The comfort of being between the betas again made it easy for you to start drifting back off to sleep. You had about five minutes of sleep when Kyle’s phone blared through the living room. You half expected him to deny it, like he usually did. Instead, he peaked at the Caller ID quickly making his way to the backyard, Simon following. You could sense Johnny’s uneasiness.

“Everything alright?” you hummed. The worst thing in your mind is that you would all have to leave and go back to base. You were due to go back in a few days, hopefully things could wait until then.

“Yeah, Bon,” Johnny assured, forcing himself to purr to relax you. “Nothin’ for you to worry about.”

Regardless you watched as John made his way down the hall about to turn into the living room, until he was ushered outside by Simon. You had the sinking feeling it wasn’t about work. Was it because of your heat? Because of how hot and cold it was? Because it didn’t last as long as it should’ve? Because you weren’t marked? Why didn’t he mark you? What if they were calling someone to come pick you up now? What if-

“None of that,” Johnny spoke, making you jump. He ran a hand over your stomach. You whined, rolling over so you could hide in his chest. “What happened?” he hummed, wrapping you up in the blankets. It smelled like your pack. Cinnamon and leather- with a gust of fresh breeze to cut the heaviness.

“It’s about me isn’t it?” You whispered. Johnny tensing was enough to confirm your suspicions. He should’ve known your omega intuition would uncover the truth before any of them were ready to share it.

“It's about work, peaches,” he stood his ground. He couldn't give up any information yet, till they knew the full story.

-outside-

“Hey, Laswell,” Kyle greeted with a sigh. To say he was nervous would be an understatement. He had always been a man of action- so being told to let someone else take the reigns was causing him distress.

“Well, I figured out who it belongs to,” She sighed, equally hard. Kyle and Simon looked at each other. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw John moving towards the living room.

“We need you out here,” he whispered. The alpha furrowed his brows, changing his course to the backyard.

“Her mother,” Laswell said finally. Kyle sucked in a breath through his teeth. John was confused but remained tight-lipped.

“She’s looking for her?” Kyle pressed.

“I don't see any signs of wanting to have contact with her,” Kate said sadly. “Just seems like she was trying to keep an eye out for her,” Kate suggested.

“Do you have her location?” Kyle questioned.

“Her last known location is Palm Springs, California. That was over two years ago and she's not living at that address anymore,” Kate continued. “She isn't registered anywhere else in the U.S. There's no death certificate either. Another thing is the type of chip she used. It lasts about 7-10 years before it gets broken down and absorbed into the bloodstream. It’s nearing the end of its life, that's why it disconnected,” Kate explained.

They felt relieved. You weren't being tracked by some psycho who had it out for you. It was just a last-ditch effort by your mom to be a part of your life.

“Thank you, Laswell,” Kyle breathed.

“Of course. Enjoy the rest of your vacation- oh and John make sure to ice your back. I know it’s sore,” She teased, the call ending. They chuckled dryly, waiting for someone to speak.

“Her mother chipped her before she left?” John clarified, causing them to nod their heads.

“How do we tell her?” Kyle asked.

“We don't,” John said quickly. The two men stared at their alpha. “What are we supposed to say? Your mother chipped you, but doesn't want to reconnect with you? She knows about how you've been thrown around from omega-holding house to omega-holding house, yet she has done nothing to stop it. She's our omega, it's our job to protect her from information like that. Besides, I'm not sure I want her mother around her anyway. Who’s to say she won’t break her heart again?”

No one could oppose. 

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!! See you in three days for Chapter 24🧡