#this opening line has broken me already

[dvrcos]

No thoughts just

“Jean Moreau came back to himself in pieces, dragging himself together as he had a thousand mornings before.”

[dykedvonte]

I think the most baffling thing about the Tulpar as a vessel to me is the fact that the ship really did only have a one way communication system.

I know it was cheap but even the most basic of vessels regarding major transport would have some way, shape or form for outside communication. Not only that but there was absolutely no form of innate emergency signal to show they may have been offline or in trouble despite clearly having a system to dock credits if they went off course. It's another factor that really shows that bad situations are made to get worse by design. One person who is required to relay all information to the crew and make all the choices without feedback. No way to update or call for help in case of a dire situation. No way to inform of inner personal conflicts and acquire procedures accordingly.

It really is like they are all in some sort of fucked up solitary confinement. They have their own world with strict roles that are meaningless in the end, as long as the cargo makes it, it doesn't matter what happens on that ship to the company. They don't want to hear anything and will come to conclusions on what happened based on how much pay they can withhold from the workers. Even what they do send is short, sterile and corporate to the extent it was likely written and sent out with a command by some random unmanned computer in an office.

There's something to be said about how unfair it is to force absolute power and control onto one person when you as an entity could do so much more to offload it but I've said it many times before so I won't again.

[secondpersonpoetry]

you’ve probably already read it before, but the poem Party by Kim Addonizio really got me tonight. first thought was “oh man. yeah” and then my second thought was “how can i make this about my hockey guys somehow………..”anyway! have a good one! 

oh. oh.

​

[somefopanwpics]

[oreo-creampie]

‘𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬’

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: everything the reader has consented to ahead of time! pure smut, monster fucking, role played breaking & entering, kidnapping (moving to a secondary location), masked ‘unknown’ robbers, established relationship with satoru, planned kinky event, knife play, blood, marking, name branding, biting, toys, hunting/chasing, some fear play, drugging, manhandling, blindfolding akak bag on head, some light bondage, begging, heavy degradation/some praise/taunting/teasing, dumbification/mind break, light cervix fucking, double dick!suguru, double dick!satoru, light semi-public nudity - you're carried to the car naked in the middle of the night (not caught), reader quickly loses all shame and just wants to be pounded and passed around, triple stuffing reader's cunt, anal, anal fingering, some anal prep, suguru has his tongue pierced, reader gets turned into a succubus, pussy slapping, they are mean but kind of sweet at times, one face slap

𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 20 minutes - 5.7k

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: anything fucked up with geto, gojo, toji shiu?

A loud bang and the glass of your balcony door shattering jolts you awake. You barely have time to register how it happened a muscular masked man is pinning you to your bed, holding a knife to your neck. "Caught ya." Your heart pounds as he glides the knife’s tip to your collarbones. There's a cunt soaking thrill to the cool knife's sharp edge.

He croons, "Your little heart is beatin’ so loudly doll, ya scared?” He's massive, weighing heavily on your thighs.

Fighting the urge to writhe when he drags the blade across. Increasing the pressure till your skin splits and a bit of blood beads up along the wound. You're moaning, it's whiny and needy.

Grabbing his wrist, digging your nails in. His gaze drops to your lips. "Sounds like ya enjoyed that, moan like that again n' you'll get my cock hard." Trailing the knife up, towards your neck, tilting your head back into your puffy pillow.

The stinging pain is going straight to your cunt, making her tingle. You're barely able to shift your hips, or even close them. Keeping them spread apart, his clothed cockhead rubbing your clit.

He pulls his mask up, groaning. Your cunt clenches from the obscene deep sound. The moonlight shining through the broken window illumines a beautiful, scarred smirk. Your eyes widen as four sharp fangs emerge, stretching to their full length.

You want him to bite you. He lifts your short nightgown with the knife's tip. “Aw I found a pretty dirty slut." Stopping beneath your breasts, giving you a short, shallow cut. "N' here I thought I was just gonna get some dinner then leave." He grinds his hips, rubbing your bare puff clit with his cock. "You're sweet ass has dessert for me."

His thin sweatpants barely separate his cock from your cunt. He's warm and thick. Rolling his hips, gliding his cock head along your slit. Biting your lip, holding back a moan. Fantasizing about how deep his fat cock could split you open.

He moans, "Lemme hear your pretty moans, don't be shy now when you're creamin' yourself over me.” Licking your wound, his tongue unnaturally cold. You shiver, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer. Whimpering, lightly grinding your soaking cunt on his thick, hard cock. His weight on your thighs keeps you from freely moving.

Grazing your neck with the sharp tip of his fangs. Tilting your head to the side, eager for him to bite. "You're too easy, want me that badly already." Roughly biting down, his four fangs in your neck shouldn't feel so good.

Spreading your fingers, groping his hard pec. Digging in your nails, he whines roughly grinding his hips. Sliding your hand down his washboard abs, he flexes, the lines defining his abs deepening. "Beg n' I'll let you have my fat cock after I drink my fill." Leaning back, shifting to straddle your hips. Letting you grind your hips better.

Another man states, "Can smell her dripping wet cunt downstairs." The man turns on the overhead light, walking over to stand at the side of your bed. Your body flushes with heat at how you're found. Grinding your bare cunt on a masked intruder's clothed cock. With your nightgown halfway pulled up.

The white masked man croons, "Poor horny little slut, so desperate for some cock. Is Toji teasing you too much?" Toji holding the knife to your neck doesn't stop you from turning your head to look at the second intruder.

Admiring their sculpted, muscular pale chest, and beautiful v-line leaning into his dark gym shorts. His cock is hard, standing up straight, his gym shorts straining over his head. Fondling his cock, moaning, his veiny hands inked up to his mid-forearms. With an ancient language, you've seen pictures of inscribed stone stabs in history books.

He yanks your dress up over your breast. Toji dips his head. Sinking his fangs into your breast, flicking your nipple with a cold tongue. Groaning when your warm blood trickles into his mouth.

Grabbing a fistful of his dark hair, pressing your thighs together. Grinding your sloppy wet cunt, his cock head catches on your tight hole. At this angle, his thick cock head won't slip it. Whining, twisting your hips, reaching out to jerk the second masked intruder.

He steps out of your reach, slipping his gym shorts down. His cock pops out, standing up, long, pale, and veiny. Toji moves the knife, holding it next to your fast. Switching to your other breast, biting next to your nipple. Which he pinches to hear you whine.

When the other beautiful man comes closer you smear his pre-cum with a swirl of your thumb. You can feel his quick heartbeat in his puffy veins when you firmly squeeze his cock.

A third man gloats, "Told you she'd be a freaky slut." Standing on the other side of the bed. His long dark hair is in a messy bun. He looks down at you with condescending dark eyes making your body hot and your cunt wet.

Sneering, "Already she's grinding her needy cunt on his cock, when we just busted in." He takes the knife from Toji, who grabs his cock swiping your clit with his head. Tugging his hair, he pulls away, blood trickling from the corner of his lips.

Gathering your blood on your thumb, holding it to Toji's lips for him to lick clean. "Satoru she's not even questioning what we are, why we are here. What we are going to do with her." Toji slips your finger out of his mouth, leaning back. Stilling his hips, leaving his hard, veiny cock pressed to your soaking wet cunt, clenching.

Satoru croons, "Pretty pathetic little slut." Your cunt clenches around nothing when he lets out a breathy, needy whine. Jerking his hips, swirling your hand, pumping your hand faster. Swiping your fingers over his sensitive pale pink head.

Questioning them, "What of it?" The third man slides the knife beneath your chin, adding pressure. Roughly swallowing, biting back your attitude. "I'll be good, don't care what you are, we'll figure out how to put something in somewhere." Satoru snickers, sliding his cock out of your hand.

He tugs his shorts up and unfolds a dark cloth bag from his pocket. Toji grabs your wrists, quickly binding them together with rough rope. He moves to the side, yanking your body up by your bound wrists.

The bag is swiftly placed over your head, tightening it around your neck. Ripping an airhole for your nose and mouth. Nudging your lips, you open your mouth for someone's long thick fingers. Swirling your tongue around them till they glide them out.

Toji rips through your sleepwear grumbling, "Fuck your shitty nightgown." Roughly yanking you off the bed. Unexpecting the sudden tug and unable to see you stumble on your feet. Getting yourself thrown over a shoulder, and a rough smack on the ass.

Jerking, whining, "Harder! Please! I'm beggin' for it, want you to make my ass sore." Earning a painful, sharp smack, your cunt flutters. You're aching for more sweet stinging pain as it settles to a warm ache. You can make out the shape of his hand.

Carrying you down the stairs, turning towards the right. They are taking you towards the front door. You'll be outside naked and bound with a bag over your head. You're too horny to be embarrassed. Reasoning it's too late for anyone to be out.

Toji swears, "Damn Satoru you did a number on this door. Don't think any is left on the frame." Thinking twice about protesting over your apparently busted front door. Due to the precarious poition you in with these three men.

Shivering in the cool night air, you hear a car door open.

Satoru reasons, "It shouldn't have looked ugly." The car softly purrs, coming to life. Another car door, he slips you off their shoulder, roughly shoving you into the car. Like you're an object they're storing in the back.

Your face plants into the cold leather. Shifting in the seat, momentarily struggling with your hands to sit upright. When one grabs you by the bag on your head, tugging you up right. The ties keeping it secured on your head dig into your neck until he lets go.

Begging whoever, "Lemme choke on your cock." You hear them shifting in their seat. He pushes your head down moments later. A thick warm cock head nudging your lips. Opening your mouth, groaning around his head, swirling your tongue.

Laying your tongue flat, taking his fat head, thicker head than the one previously in your hand. Toji momentarily holds your head down, gagging you. You'd fondle his balls if your wrists weren't tied.

You hear the soft pulsing of a toy. Eager for Satoru to play with your soaking wet cunt you put your ass up in the air. Satoru spreads your lips with his fingers. "Dirty slut doesn't even care where she's bein' takin." Gliding a thin, pulsing dildo into your cunt. Its head is a small tip, gradually thickening.

Moaning around Toji's cock, clenching the toy. Its soft bumps on the bottom stroking your sweet spot. Satoru groans, "Suguru can we keep her? She has her pretty little glory holes in my face " He pumps the toy faster, purposefully angling it down. Ensuring to stroke your sweet spot to make your cunt fluster.

Trembling, folding your arms, propping yourself up on your bound clasped fists. Bobbing your head faster on Toji's cock. Suguru decides, "You'll have to turn her, vampire or incubus doesn't matter, otherwise you'll break her before the sun rises." You hear the car rev as he speeds up.

Satoru grabs your ass, digging in his nails, biting your other cheek. Toji's cock muffles your whine, he holds your head down. Forcing you to take every inch, burying his cock deep in your throat. Your eyes water, jaw aching from stretching so wide to take him.

Gliding his cock out, roughly breathing. Toji questions, "Whatya say, wanna be our pretty cock sleeve succubus live on taking our cum. Think it's fittin' with how quickly you started groping my tits n' grinding your sloppy cunt on my cock." He rips the hole in the bag wider, spitting on your lips.

Licking your lips clean, pleading with them, "Turn me into a pretty cock sucker you can keep around to stuff full of cum." Satoru pulls you onto his lap, the inhuman dildo pulsing in your cunt. Sitting in his lap keeping the toy stuffed in deep.

Your cunt spasming, clenching the toy. Satoru yanks your head back by the bag on your head. Biting underneath your collarbone, his fangs are shorter than Toji's. With only two on top, the sharp pain becomes a sweet tingle.

Your body becomes hotter, and the intensity of the heat concentrates between your legs. Soaking Satoru's gym shorts, rocking your hips, shifting the pulsing toy in your needy cunt. Pulling away, licking the drops of blood welling up from the small inflictions.

You moan, unable to think of anything as you're overcome by incomprehensible horniness. "Nng!" Satoru moves you to straddle his hips. Yanking you by your neck, arching your back, biting your breast by Toji's previous.

Crying from the short-lived searing pain, then an intense wave of pleasure akin to cumming has you trembling. "Aren't you giving her too much, don't wanna kill her before we have our fun." Satoru grabs the dildo, fucking your sloppy wet cunt,

Giving you a couple pumps before your overly sensitive cunt gushes. Soaking through Satoru's gym shorts. He groans, licking the wound, scraping your nipple with his fang, Biting beneath, injecting you with more venom.

Your eyes roll back, and your body quivers. You can feel your heartbeat in your cunt. Your slick trickling down your thighs. Satoru fucks your sloppy, sensitive cunt with the dildo faster. Licking up to your clit, suckling and groaning.

Pulling away with a pop, "She can take it like she's gonna take both my cocks." Satoru ribs the bag off your head, roughly kissing you. Slipping his tongue into your mouth when you moan. He tastes of blood and strawberry lollipops.

Suguru roughly pulls the car off the road, parking it. "Out. I'm not listening to both of you have fun while I get blue balls." Satoru pulls away, gliding the dildo out. Turning it off, holding it up your lips, ignoring Suguru's demand to get out of the car.

Licking it clean, wrapping your lips, gliding it deep into your mouth. Pumping past your lips, groaning, "You pretty lips are gonna look good wrapping around my cock." He slides it out of your mouth with a soft pop.

You hear two doors slam shut one after another, leaving Satoru and you in the car. He cradles your head, it's spinning. Resting your head in his large hand, your cunt drooling on his lap. Clenching around nothing, you want to cum again despite squirting.

Satoru urges you, "That warmth," another gentle kiss, "The horniness don't fight it. Let it take over, you can be my beautiful greedy little cock whore for centuries." He trails kisses along your neck.

Slowly sinking his fangs in, jolting, whining from another injection. Placing your bound wrists on his thick pecs. Wishing you could run your fingers through his soft-looking snow-white hair.

"Wanna be your favorite cocksleeve." Your gums momentarily ache, your teeth making room for a pair of sprouting fangs. Satoru pulls away, pushing your top lip up with his thumb, crooning, "Aw already getting fangs." He drops his hands to the rope around your wrist.

Without thinking you lurch forward, biting into Satoru's neck. The car door opens, and Toji sneers, "Some kidnapper you are, clinging to her while she sinkin' her fangs into ya neck." Satoru groans, holding the back of your head, fondling your squishy ass cheek.

He groans, "Nn harder." Biting his thick pec with the possessive intent of marking him. "Is it really kidnapping when the slut would've walked out the door with us if not for the bag on her head." Satoru's blood is sweet, filling your mouth. You should be repulsed but can't help but drink another mouthful.

Three men bust in shirtless, with beautifully muscular bodies and within seconds you were thinking with your needy cunt. He wasn't wrong. You'd happily let them carry you off to wherever and keep you for however long if you got your cunt pounded by them.

"Bet she wouldn't but still, she was only meant to pretty blood bag. N' we couldn't risk our pretty dinner knowing where she's at." Toji grabs your hair, pulling you off Satoru. His blood trickles down his chest, following the middle groove of his abs.

Smiling in a lustful daze, "She's too beautiful to let go." Thick black horns sprout from his head, contrasting his bright hair. They twist in a loop, pointing back. His features sharpen, eyes glowing similar to his tattoo. Which spreads up his arms, onto his pecs.

Toji pulls you back for Satoru to step out of the car, shutting the door behind himself. "We both bite each other, that means once I fill her sloppy cunt full of cum, I'll be hers'." The large pale moon in the skin illuminates Satoru's beautiful blushing face.

His smile is breathtaking, this beautiful incubus will be yours. You could taste his lust vanilla and honey. Toji lets go of your hair, dropping on your knees in front of Satoru. Looking up at him, pleading "I want to make you mine n' cum on your cocks. Wanna be yours." Satoru pushes his wet shorts down. He has two beautiful long, pale cocks, both of them standing up.

Suguru pulls you to your fist, slicing the rope, and freeing your hands. "I told Shiu we are hunting the slut we found." Twisting you around to face the spare woods. "By the time she finishes her head start he'll be here." Harshly slapping your ass, making you stumble forward. Leafs crunch beneath your feet.

The initial intense haze of the venom first affects level out. Helping you to latch onto their words with better clarity than before. Which your cunt throbbing with an unbearable neediness infringes upon.

You need to cum, it's borderline painful to not have one of them playing with your cunt. Slipping your fingers between your legs, rubbing your clit. Clenching your thighs together. Moaning, "Whoever gets me first decides who gets to go when! Don't make me wait too long!" Missing the stimulation, the second you stop touching yourself.

Darting into the woods, the trees pass you quicker than they should. You've seen bright full moons in the past, but this was unlike anything else. You could see the bark, moss, rocks, and branches clearly. Acutely feeling the leaves crunching and the damp earth.

Pushing yourself to run faster when you hear a thunderous crack of a tree splitting in two. It doesn't hit the ground until a few minutes later, knocking over several more trees.

Were they fighting each other to get to you? They might not be beyond throwing a few punches towards each other. At any moment one of them could show up, pin you to the tree and do what the wished. Whilst you'll beg them for more.

Struggling to stop, kicking up some dirt. Standing in front of you is a handsome man with a scruffy face, holding a cigarette. "So you're the pretty little thing we're playin' with. Shame to end the game now, run." Taking a step back, the wind picks up carrying the subtle scent of his lust.

It's similar to a bittersweet mixture of dark and milk chocolate, with a hint of sweet caramel. He's mouth-watering, his must be Shiu. He's making no move to catch you, admiring you in the moon light taking a puff off his cig.

"Run." His demand reminds you at any moment the other three could catch up. Taking off running past him, biting into your bottom lip. Hoping one of them would catch you soon and use your mouth and cunt.

Breaking out of the tree line into a wide clearing of tall yellow flowers. A cabin lies on the other side of a large glittering lake. Toji stands in the field's center, waiting for you. Taking off towards the right, the back of your neck tingles when he's about to grab it. Trusting your instinct and ducking, scrambling out of his reach.

Looking over your shoulder, Toji's still close, about to catch you. When you run into Satoru, who appears in front of you within seconds. Wrapping his arms around your waist, flapping white feathery wings. Flying out of Toji's reach.

"I win! Haha HA!" His pupils are wide. He's high off your previous bites. Your venom coursing through his muscular body. "You smell so fuckin' sweet." He grabs your hair, pulling your head to the side. "Your neck looks prettier covered in bitemarks." Whining from the sweet pain of Satoru puncturing Toji's bite.

Grabbing a handful of his soft white hair. Wrapping your legs around his waist. Digging your nails into his back between his wings. Grazing the base of his left wing. He whines, his wings shuttering, the two of you slightly dropping before he steadies himself.

Landing on his feet, pinning you to the closest tree. Pulling away from your neck, licking up the blood. "I can't go much longer without feeling her tight, sloppy wet cunt clenching my cocks together. Sug can help me break her before Shiu and your ass as a chance." Squeezing your neck with his long, thin fingers, tugging on your thigh.

Unwrapping your legs, and standing up, he pulls you away from the tree. Pinning you to Suguru's chest, he massages both your cheeks. His fingers getting closer to your sloppy cunt.

Toji points out, "Look at her, she'll still be begging for more after the two of you. Don't think you can satisfy a greedy whore like her when she's turning." Gliding your hand along Satoru's hard sculpted side. Trailing your fingers along his abs, grabbing one of his cocks.

Smearing his pre-cum by slowly swirling your thumb. He is dripping so much, swirling your hand halfway down his cock. "Please stuff my cunt, fingers, tongue or cock don't care. Need someone to play with my cunt it hurts." Suguru's thick fingers are so close to your puffy lips.

Shifting your hips, Suguru pulls his fingers away, lightly massaging your cheek. Satoru glides his cock out of your hands. "Play with my cunt it hurts, poor little slut." He smacks your cunt, twisting your hips back. "How this?" Suguru tightens his grasp making you take five punishing wet slaps.

Trembling, knee buckling, your clit and lips stinging, cunt quivering. Your eyes water, "Please, that's not what I meant." Satoru mockingly frowns. Grabbing both cocks, matching the pace of your hands. Swirling your hand around his pale pink tip, smearing his pre-smear along his long veiny cock.

"But you said you didn't care." Pinching your cheeks. "What's wrong?" Suguru kneels behind you, biting your squishy cheek. You cry, jerking your hips forward. Satoru pinches your clit, and you shove his chest, forcing him to stumble back, smirking.

Suguru chimes, "Whore is getting some feist to her!" Satoru grabs your hair, yanking your head back, forcing you to look up at him. Satoru roughly slaps you across the face, kissing your aching cheek.

You hear the slick sound of Toji stroking his cock. You can taste his lust. Shiu states, "Bet she'd be able to take it harder than our normal slut." Your soaking wet cunt clenches from his breathy groan.

Toji bemoans, "It's tirin' havin' to hold back 'cause a bitch can't handle how hard I'm fuckin' her." Suguru pulls you onto his beautiful face by your hips. Steadily stroking your puffy clit, grinding your hips, moaning. Getting off on the pressure of Suguru's barbell swiping over your clit.

Suguru smears his thick spit on your asshole. Dipping his finger in, curling it, lubing up your other hole. Flicking your clit, faster with your tongue. Satoru watches in admiration as your beautiful face contorts with an expression of pleasure.

Loudly moaning, "Thank you! Please let me cum again, his tongue feels so good." Suguru glides another finger in, stretching your other hole apart. "Nnn his stretching my ass. We don't have lube! Nn fuck it feels so good thouuuugh don't!" Fucking your ass faster with both his thick fingers.

Keeping his barbell stroking your clit just right. The pressure is too perfect, trembling, rocking your hips. Suguru squeezes your hips, keeping you still. Begging, "Don't stop, faster, please!" His spit is thicker than a normal human, making your other hole and your clit tingle with intense pleasure.

Satoru fondles your breasts, pinching your nipples. Tugging when you cry, arching your chest into his hand, he twists. "Don't worry, Suguru's spit is aphrodisiac-like and lubricate." Easing up on your nipples, gliding his cock out of your fist. Dipping down to kiss both nipples, sucking one into his mouth.

Soothing your aching nipple with his tongue, "Your little ass will be just fine." Suguru spreads his fingers apart, stretching your asshole. The sweet ache dulling with each pump of his finger. He groans on your clit.

Clenching Suguru's head, Shiu encourages, "Let me see you cum beautiful." Creaming on Suguru's tongue, pushing his head away. He groans, flicking his tongue faster. Whining, writhing from the intensity. You've never been this sensitive before.

"Whore moaning like she's never busted a nut before." Satoru lets your nipple go with a soft pop. Kissing the other one, when he stands up. You brace yourself on his thick pecs.

Crying when Suguru digs in his sharp claws to keep you from wiggling so much. Satoru bemuses, "Might as well feel like it, cumming while turning never stops feeling immensely pleasurable." Cupping Satoru's balls, sliding your hand over his abs, feeling him up.

He whines, "Beautiful little whore crying from cumming on his tongue." Your bitten breasts ache, the pain is sweet. His warm, soft fingers playing with your nipples, gently rubbing your nipples. You can feel each swipe in your cunt.

Suguru pulls away, adding a third finger. Whining jerking your hips away in an attempt to run from Suguru slowly finger fucking your asshole. He bites your slicked thigh so close to your cunt, his bites throb, a stinging pain shoots down your thigh, becoming a tingling numbness.

Your vision goes hazy, and your body becomes heavy. Seconds trickle by and the numbness fades. “After feigning concern over me giving her too much you drug her up like that. She’s going to break so quickly; our little whore is already so sensitive.” You can feel how deep his fangs are, how wide and sharp they are embedding into your soft thigh.

Toji croons, “Can our dumb slut speak?” Satoru grabs both wrists, looping your arms around his neck. Feebly clasping your hands, he grabs your waist holding your body up. Suguru licks your thigh with a loud groan. Pumping his fingers faster, spreading them out, stretching your asshole.

"Come on cock hungry whore tell them how your greedy cunt is aching to be stuffed full of Sug and I's cock." You can't register their words. Moaning, clenching Suguru's fingers.

Getting your ass prepped for his cock felt pleasure before. But as Suguru's venom takes into effect your ass has the sensitivity of getting your g spot fucked. When Satoru rubs your clit with his head, it is like your cumming instantly.

Your cunt spasming around nothing, slick dripping down your thigh. Immense, intoxicating pleasure consumes you. Leaving you a mindless, horny mess, wanting to cum on their cocks. Gently winding your fingers into Satoru's hair, Suguru grabs your neck with his clean hand.

Shiu bemoans, "We haven't even had a chance to fuck her stupid and she's a brain-dead slut already." Satoru slides his large hand over your hip, along your thigh. You struggle to lift your leg; he has to crouch to grab the backs of your knees.

He folds you in a mating press between his and Suguru's hard muscular chest. Helping Toji and Shiu watch him glide one of his cocks into you.

Suguru glides his fingers out of your ass, grabbing his cock, lining himself up. Groaning, watching his cock stretch your beautiful ass. You can't breathe enough to moan with Suguru's thick fingers crushing your neck.

One of Satoru's cocks is gliding along your clit. The second stretching your dripping wet, tight cunt, stroking your g-spot, hitting your cervix. Your toes curl as you cream on his cock. The lack of air makes your body tingle and adds to the mind-shattering ecstasy.

Satoru wonders, "That change makin' you that sensitive? I just put it in." Roughly fucking your sloppy wet, tight cunt. "Shiu you have a knife on you? I need to carve my initials into her beautiful tits. Mark her whore ass as mine." Shiu lets go of his thick cock, to get his knife out of his pants pockets. With his hand not coated in spit and pre-cum.

Tossing it to Satoru, who catches it without sparing a glance. He grabs one of your horns. "Did you even realize these have fully grown?" He trails his fingers up your horns to the tips, then back down to the base.

Shivering from his soft touch compared to his harsh thrust and the knife's tip trailing along your side. Suguru lets go of your neck, holding your cheek, fucking your sensitive ass faster. "Let me stuff my second cock in her other tight glory hole." Satoru pauses for Suguru to line his second cock up with your dripping cunt.

You clench both holes, loudly moaning. Suguru is thicker than Suguru's veiny cock. His head reaching just below Satoru's whose presses against your cervix with a greater pressure than before.

Satoru croons, "I think she can take another one in her greedy cunt. Her cunt won't break so quickly like she did, will it?" Satoru glides his cock out. Suguru grabs your other leg with his clean hand. Satoru holds his cocks together, lining them up. Slowly gliding them in.

You jolt, tensing up, scratching Satoru's chest. Your jaw dropping, crying your cunt stuffed too full of too many long, thick veiny cocks. The fourth on in your ass, making the thin strip of skin between both holes meaningless.

Toji groans, "Fuck dirty slut is taking so much!" Having to stop jerking his cock to keep himself from cumming before having his turn with you.

Satoru drags the knife along your aching breasts. Holding your head back by your horn. "I know you're too stupid to understand me but try your best to look me in the eyes." His too beautiful to look away from.

Dark horns poking out from his fluffy, messy white hair. Thin strands hang into his stunning glowing blue eyes. A cocky smirk on his kissable pale pink lips.

Satoru urges, "I want to see the beautiful look in your eyes when you cum on my cock." Shivering from the sharp edge of the knife on your nipple. Trapped between their broad, muscular chests, you can't squirm away.

You can taste Satoru's lust stronger than you can anyone else's. Faintly you can feel your own squishy cunt wrapping around his cock. Along with the pleasure that comes with having your soft, squishy cunt stroking his cocks.

Suguru and Satoru keep their pace even, triple stuffing your cunt. Whilst stuffing your tight ass. The pleasure is mounting with every sweet quick harsh stroke. "Nnng your lust tastes so fucking good. Only a perverted cock hungry brain-dead whore would get off on having her cunt stuffed this full." Satoru picks up his speed, with Suguru maintaining his.

Satoru's navel is rubbing your clit perfectly. Suguru groans, "Fuck dirty slut is stretched so wide yet so tight." Clenching their cocks, digging your nails into Satoru's chest.

Reaching back to slip your fingers into Suguru's silk, long dark hair. Until your reach the base of his horns. Wrapping your fingers around his sensitive horn’s base, he groans, passionate, raspy and deep.

Satoru whines, it's breathy, needy, making your cunt tingle. He croons, holding the knife to your neck. "I can feel how she's about to cum. Come on cock whore cream on ournnnng!" You're squirting before Satoru can finish. Thick, warm cum dripping down their balls.

Suguru's thick veiny cock in your ass, all three hard cocks in your sensitive cunt. You're a wreck, half their size, folded in half between them taking each thrust with a loud squelch from both holes.

"Shit I dont wanna cum this quickly!" Hot warm cum spurts from both heads. It's too much for your cunt to handle. "She feels so goddamn goooood! Cummin' so hard, nnnn fuck! fuck!" His thick cum is dripping out of your cock, making your stomach expand with a cum filled bulge.

You can feel Suguru's puffy veins pulse. "Nnn! Ahhh!" You still can't think, you're craving the addictive immense pleasure of cumming already. Their cocks pumping Satoru's cum deep into your stuffed, soaking wet cunt.

Fucking your tight ass and cum filled cunt faster. Suguru groans, "Moan louder dirty little whore! Pretty little sounds are getting me off, making my thick cocks throb." Satoru glides his overly sensitive, softening cocks out.

Satoru pushes on your stomach, and his cum spurts out like you squirting again. You're bouncing on Suguru's cock, a moaning, cock hungry mess. Clenching both holes Suguru's pace becomes sloppy. Rutting his cocks into your sloppy glory holes.

Suguru loudly groans, fucking his thick cum into your greedy cum. Quickly pulling out, letting some spurt onto your ass. They set you on your feet, and Satoru steadies you by your horn and hip.

Toji pips up, "Ready for more?" Your legs trembling, you're barely standing up. Your knees buckle and Satoru doesn't let you fall. Turning you around, pressing the night to your lower back. "I think the whore deserves a tramp stamp of my name instead." You don't have the energy to writhe when he carves a S into your back.

It's seconds without having one of them touch your cunt and your whining, "Please! Wanna cum!" Suguru smirks at you, slapping your cunt when Satoru finishes the first letter.

Pressing your thighs together, doubling over, Suguru switches out with Toji. He roughly grabs your horns, holding your head still. Lining his cock up, "Ya look starving for some cock" You wince when your fangs retract. Crying when Satoru carves an a into your lower back, Toji stuffs his cock into your mouth with a loud, deep groan.

Shiu grumbles, "Dirty fucking whore taking us all." He crouches next to you, stuffing four thick fingers into your sloppy cunt. Rubbing your clit with his thumb. He bites your outer thigh, his fangs have a slight curve to them, sinking in deep.

He groans as your blood fills his mouth, pumping his fingers fast. Finding your sweet spot, focusing on it. Pain and pleasure are becoming the same. Satoru smack your cum covered cheek. "Three more letters, and two more cocks to go." Moaning on Toji's cock, massaging his heavy balls.

Your cunt spasming around Shiu's relentless, quickly pumping fingers. Shiu doesn't bother to clean up the blood dripping down your thigh. Licking up your thigh, you slip your fingers into his short hair. "Cumming on my fingers that quickly?" Satoru quickly cuts the rest of his name into you.

Slipping his fingers in with Shiu's, matching his pace. "Once they finish with you, Sug and I are having another round. Have to test your new limits, see how much our pretty little succubus can handle." He gives your ass a rough smack and steps aside for Shiu to stand up behind you.

Gliding his fingers out of your cunt, grabbing your hips. Smearing your slick on his thick, veiny cock, lining himself up. Roughly slamming his cock into you, splitting your cunt open with no warning. "Perfect fuckin' glory hole you'd think she'd break after that but she's too tight 'round my cock." Toji groans gagging you with his cock, getting off on your neck squeezing his fat cock.

"I'm too big for her little throat. It almost hurts how she grippin' me. But it feels so good, sluts don't need to breathe right?" He shallowly pumps his hips, refusing to let you breathe. Grunting, "Stupid little succubus is gonna drain my balls dry with her pretty mouth."

oreo creampie's m.list

tag list: @unknownspecies @butterflieskeepcominback @bvbarmy @linadiablo @hinata7346 @aechmea01 @movlul @namjoons-t1ddies @valentxi @erp1007 @shussshs @deft0n3sss @ryutotsukai0824 @saintydainty @insomniac-h3art @lov3rbody @getous-1-tears

[2hightocare]

COFFEE!

“I think I'm past obsessed at this point, there has to be another word in the dictionary that tops obsessed.”

Synopsis: in which a hopeless romantic falls in love with the man of her dreams…

Pairings: boyfriend!jeongguk x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship.. non idol au

Warnings: literally the most sappy thing I could have possibly written, was listening to ‘coffee’ by miguel while writing, they’re such a gentle love, reader is a book worm, Jungkook likes drawing (doodling) plus points when his drawings are about oc, mentions of their first time having sex, usage of book quotes (read nltm, had to use the mia and sebastian line for my own sanity) <3333333

authors note: this is so simple but my book worm hopeless romantic needed this.. wrote this while high so nothing new 🤍

They say falling in love is the most beautiful feeling in the world.

You couldn’t explain the immediate sensation, the feeling that spreads throughout your chest as if you were a black-and-white picture that suddenly starts to fill with vibrant colors anytime his eyes lock with yours.

It was astonishing how the universe works—the idea that you are destined for someone ever since you are born, and that all the hardships along the way shape you into the person you need to be to meet them.

Your heartbeat thumped loudly in your ears as you watched him laugh from across the room, an oversized hoodie and baggy jeans covering his lean, muscular figure—one you’d memorized to the tiniest detail. You knew every freckle and scar. His head was thrown back, arms crossed, as he paid attention to whatever the guy in front of him was saying.

You scrunched your nose, using your index finger to push your glasses up as you studied your boyfriend from afar. You weren’t sure whether to call it pathetic or endearing, the way you noticed every little crease on his forehead and the way he toyed with his bottom lip absentmindedly. You even took note of his long eyelashes, and nearly died of jealousy every time you counted them when he slept beside you.

It was gut-wrenching to imagine anyone else feeling about him the way you did. The thought alone made you want to puke in the nearest trash can.

You were lovesick for this man, and you could already feel the heat rising to your cheeks whenever you looked at him or heard his laugh. Not only did you want to scream and freak out over every little thing he did, but he also had you daydreaming constantly. You found yourself thinking of silly song lyrics that resonated with how you felt about him. Staring at his side profile, you finally understood the meaning behind Suki Waterhouse’s lyrics: “Oh, my good looking boy,” echoed in your mind.

Before you could form another lyric or recall a favorite book quote to describe your feelings, his eyes found yours. A small smile tugged at his lips as his gaze scanned your expressions, reading you as if you were an open book. You smiled, tilting your head to the side, trying to hide the makeshift fireworks going off in your tummy.

His gaze softened, and it made your breath waver. You had never understood the meaning of “his gaze softened” in books, but now, you understood every syllable of those words after experiencing it firsthand.

You honestly couldn’t think of a single thing you didn’t love about him. You loved everything about him, even the parts he claimed were too “broken” or “damaged” to be loved.

A few seconds passed before he finally said his goodbyes and began making his way back to you. Your eyes followed every step, catching the grin he wore.

“I don’t know, I pretty much think you’re obsessed with me,” your boyfriend teased, his straight teeth on full display as he stopped in front of you, looking down at you on the couch.

“In your dreams.” You laughed, craning your neck to look up at him.

Instead of getting mad, he let out a low chuckle, leaning down with both arms on either side of the couch, caging you in.

“Every night, baby.” He whispered softly, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips before moving to your cheek, delivering another soft kiss. You sighed in contentment as his lips ghosted over your skin, the pet name making your head feel dizzy.

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before standing up straight again, looking down at you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you looked up at him through your lashes. He was already smiling, and you didn’t even need to ask “what?”—you already knew. Anyone in their right mind could tell how obsessed you were with him, and it was no surprise to him either.

As you both walked out of the bookstore, carrying a bag full of psychological and romance books (and, of course, the box of transparent sticky notes Jungkook got for you to annotate your books without writing on the actual pages), it was clear this was one of his favorite things to do. In his free time, when he wasn’t working or with you, he loved opening one of your books and reading your thoughts scribbled in the margins. Half of his camera roll was pictures of you, but the other half was just pictures of your annotations, scribbles, and drawings.

It was as if he was inside your mind, reading every thought, and he loved it.

He could still recall the first book he opened that sent his heart racing, like a teenage boy with a crush.

“I couldn’t see him, but his laugh was unmistakable. I could close my eyes and be in so many places with that laugh. That laugh was the cohesive thread, the little recurring melody that showed up in so many scenes of my life, like Mia and Sebastian’s theme in La La Land. Always there, playing in the background.”

Those words were highlighted in the prettiest shade of pink, with two small hearts drawn beside them. But it was your handwriting at the bottom that got him: “The feeling I’ve been trying to put into words about how I feel every time I look at him has just been done for me, oh my.” He remembered feeling his heart stop for a second. And when it started again, it was for you—his heart was for you and only you.

That wasn’t all. It had become one of your shared love languages. Jungkook started buying books he thought you’d like. He even asked your little sister what your favorite highlighters were so he could buy them for both of you.

Your heart did somersaults when you opened a book on his bedside table and saw a drawing—a pair of eyes in black ink, long lashes making them look bigger and more innocent. Your breath hitched as you noticed the small freckle just below the eyebrow, realizing it was you.

It didn’t help the overwhelming sensation of adoration when you saw his handwriting in the margins.

“You remembered?” she said softly.

“I remember every second of us.”

The text was underlined, and in small letters, he had written, “Gosh, she made me fall so hard that I’m reading sappy words and thinking ‘us’ out loud. #sendhelp,” with a frowning emoji next to the hashtag. Before you knew it, you were on page one, reading every single line and note he had left.

Also, the multiple drawings on the pages where there was extra space had your heart thumping hard in your chest. There were so many drawings— each one tied to you or him. It was impossible to describe every feeling surging through your chest, every emotion racing in your bloodstream, as your fingertips traced the drawing of you.

This time, it was an image of you on your back, lying on a bed. Only part of your side profile was visible, with your hair spilling across the bed, covering most of your back. At first, you didn't want to assume it was you he'd drawn-being self-centered wasn't your style. But it was impossible to deny it when he'd sketched every freckle, even the small half-moon tattoo on your shoulder blade, matching the real one inked on your skin.

You smiled at the memory but snapped back to the present as your boyfriend instinctively switched you to the other side of the sidewalk when you two turned toward Target. You held tight to his index finger as he squeezed between people, leading you behind him with a soft "excuse me" to anyone in the way.

Automatically, you found yourself smiling as you picked up your pace to match his longer strides. He pulled you in closer, his arm snaking around your waist, his hand resting over your belly—a little lower than usual, sending butterflies flitting wildly in your stomach. You suppressed a shiver as he gently guided you to the side, allowing an older couple to pass by.

"Us when we're eighty, baby," Jungkook leaned down and whispered into your ear, making you playfully roll your eyes at him. His smile only widened at your reaction.

"Won't be us if you keep watching Young Sheldon without me," you pouted, giving him a playful glare, which only made him smile more.

"Why are you smiling?" you asked, maybe even whining a little as you walked into the store and heard the employee greet you both.

"Because you're so beautiful, and my brain goes in circles when I stare at you," he shrugged casually, giving your waist a small squeeze before untangling his arm to grab a cart.

You tried so hard not to melt, holding onto his bicep as he leaned forward on the cart, making him closer to your height.

"Don't know it you're down, but l've been wanting to learn how to crochet," you said as you glanced around the aisles. Your boyfriend immediately started nodding excitedly.

"Baby, oh my god. I'm so down. We need to make those big-ass blankets," he rambled, looking at your face for a reaction, like a puppy with its ears perked up and tail wagging.

"I think that's knitting, baby," you corrected him, smiling as his eyebrows raised before he let out a small laugh.

"Wait, are those two not the same thing?" His dimple deepened as he bit his lower lip, stopping in front of the craft aisle.

"I actually have no clue," you admitted with a chuckle, raising an eyebrow. "But I know you can crochet a blanket because you once told me about those pattern blocks you saw on your explore page.”

Jungkook's gaze softened as he made eye contact with you, his pupils dilated with so much adoration that it made your heart swell.

"And I remember because I searched them on TikTok to see what you were talking about. I saw people connecting them into blankets. Also, I remember you pretending to sleep so you didn't have to scratch my back anymore-before my one minute was up. You swear you're slick, but I know when you're really asleep," he said with a grin, teasingly biting your cheek as you tried not to smile.

"How do you know I'm not sleeping?" you teased, and he chuckled, ghosting his lips over yours.

"Because every time you fall asleep, you make this little sound, and then slowly, you start snoring," he laughed, watching your cheeks turn a shade of red before burying his laughing face in the crook of your neck.

To be loved is to be seen.

That phrase had never felt more accurate. No one else had ever seen you the way Jungkook did. He knew you so well, down to the tiniest details that sometimes even surprised you.

Your eyes practically turned into hearts as Jungkook kissed your neck innocently before turning his attention to the yarns.

This was the kind of love you had always dreamed of

-better than the movies or books. Nothing could top the overwhelming feelings of gratitude, love, and appreciation that coursed through your body whenever you looked at him. Your brain practically played the instrumental of "Video Games" by Lana Del Rey whenever you spent time with him.

It was as if even a natural disaster couldn't faze you

-so long as you could experience it with him.

The connection between you two was beyond what you ever imagined existed in real life. It felt like something out of a fairy tale. From the moment you locked eyes with him across the room, you both knew there was no turning back.

After checking out and getting to Jungkook's car, he opened the door for you, reaching over to buckle your seatbelt before putting the bags in the back.

Once he climbed into the driver's seat, his hand instinctively found its place on your thigh after starting the car. His thumb rubbed your bare skin, sending sparks flying through your body. It was such a natural gesture for him, but the butterflies never ceased. You bit your lip, trying not to whine when his hand moved closer to your inner thigh.

As he softly sang along to "Creep" by Radiohead, it was just another thing you'd become morally obsessed with-his voice. You had always known he could sing, but everything changed the night you were first intimate.

It was as if your entire perspective on love and sex shifted. Simply calling it "sex" seemed absurd now, because it was so much more. Everything felt heightened, more intense, making your heart pound wildly in your chest.

"F-fuck, baby..." he whimpered into your ear, his hips moving slowly into yours, leaving your mouth hanging open.

His little groans and moans made you dizzy, like notes of a lullaby. The feeling of skin against skin was the most addicting sensation, made even more special by the way he always checked in on you.

"Shhh, I'm sorry. Am I being too rough, baby?" His voice was strained as his hips halted, his breath heavy as he moved your hair to kiss your neck.

He resumed slowly, making your legs shake and grip the sheets, and you couldn't help but moan, asking for more. His chuckle against your skin was the same one you’d hear when he rested his head on your stomach, expecting you to scratch his back or read to him.

"You're sweaty," you pouted at him, both of you basking in the afterglow.

"I know. Do you still want me?" He smiled, mimicking your expression before pulling the covers over both your naked bodies and pulling you in as close as possible.

"Yes, I'll forever want you," you replied, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, savoring the warmth he radiated.

As sleepiness began to overtake you, you felt his fingertips tracing letters and shapes on your hip.

Just before drifting off, he began singing again. It was like entering another universe where only you and he existed

"I want you to notice," he sang softly, "when I'm not around."

"So fucking special... I wish I was special." He pressed a kiss to your temple, the sound of his voice and your matching heartbeats lulling you both to sleep.

You snapped back to reality when the car stopped at a red light.

"Is it bad that I always hope to get red lights so I can kiss you?" he asked, flashing a grin that had you laughing.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his as his eyes fluttered shut, his finger lifting your chin gently.

"Not bad, but a little weird. You want to spend so much time with me," you teased, pulling back to your seat. "Some might even think you're pretty obsessed."

"I'm past obsessed at this point. There's got to be another word that tops it," he admitted, stealing another kiss just before the light turned green.

As you gazed at him, you couldn't help but wish there was another word, stronger than "love," to describe how you felt about him.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 8: The Thing About Ghost

Summary: You should have expected something bad would happen. You just didn't expect this. Perhaps something good could come of it after all.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, slight Gaz x Soap

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, angst, panic, PTSD, nightmares, violence, medical stuff

A/N: I started this chapter this morning. It just came spilling forth and thus you're getting a bonus update this week. I'm honestly so glad to have this one done. Now I can finally say something more than "you'll see" when you ask about Ghost.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

You reach a hand out from under the mountain of blankets, fumbling blindly across your nightstand until you reach your vibrating phone. You pull it under the blankets, blinking blearily at the name on the screen. 

Kyle. 

“Hello?” You mumble sleepily, your eyes already drooping again. 

“Oh, so you can hear your phone vibrating but not me knocking at your door for fifteen minutes?” 

You let out a quiet groan, burrowing back under the covers. “Comfy.” 

“I’m sure you are, but it’s breakfast time, love.” 

You let out a quiet groan, still not moving. “Not hungry.” 

“You need to eat, love. You’ll be grumpy all morning if you don’t.” 

He’s right. If you skip breakfast, you’ll get snippy and hangry. Yet, the comfort of your bed is calling, threatening to lull you back to sleep again. 

“Don’t go falling asleep on me again.”

You startle back awake, groaning. “I wasn’t.” 

“Come on, love. I don’t want to have to get Soap to kick in your door.” 

You let out a loud, dramatic groan before grumbling acquiescence. You slide out from under your covers until you’re sitting on the floor, rubbing your eyes. You don’t bother hanging up as you set your phone on the nightstand before crawling over to the door, just close enough that you can reach up and unlock it. 

You sit back on the floor, hair mussed and still in your pajamas. The door slowly swings open, Gaz leaning against the doorframe. He smiles softly down at you as you yawn, blinking up at him sleepily. 

“That’s cute, but if we don’t get to breakfast, Price might send the cavalry searching.” He says. 

You grumble, pushing yourself up to stand before you grab a sweatshirt and shoes, running your fingers through your hair to make it at least semi-presentable. 

You lean against Gaz as you walk to the mess, resting your head against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him. It’s quieter in the mess than normal, Gaz leading you through the line to get food, making your tray for you before you shuffle over to the table where the others are. You sit down next to Price, letting out a yawn as you stare sleepily down at your tray. 

“Was starting tae get worried about ye.” Soap grins at you. 

“Yeah, heard her phone vibrating but not me knocking for fifteen minutes.” Gaz says, taking the seat next to you. 

“I was comfy.” You shrug, picking up your fork. 

“Guess I don’t have to bother asking how you slept.” Price says, grinning fondly down at you. 

“Like a rock.” You say, before taking a bite of sausage. 

“Good.” He says, almost beaming with pride that your little shopping spree yesterday worked, and that the added comfort in your room helped. 

Your face warms under his gaze, practically able to feel him preening with pride. It makes something twist in your stomach, knowing that you made him feel that way. 

The moment is broken as Ghost sighs, standing from the table to dump his tray and leave the mess. 

Soap shakes his head as you watch him go, a frown pulling at your brows. “Don’ mind him. He could do with some soft blankets and more pillows of his own.” 

The image of Ghost curled up with fluffy blankets and a stuffed strawberry of his own has you laughing loudly, not even bothered by the looks you get from the tables around you. 

You lounge against Gaz’s chest, his arm wrapped around your chest. Your back vibrates every so often as he chuckles at something that happens on the TV. You’re focused on your book, content with a lazy Sunday afternoon. 

“Don’ you two look cozy,” Soap says entering the rec room. “Don’ mind me.” He kneels on the couch next to your feet before flattening himself out between your legs until his head lands in your lap. 

Your cheeks warm as he sighs out a breath, making himself comfortable. You set your book aside, electing to run your fingers through his mohawk. You wonder if you can put him to sleep that way like you almost achieved with Gaz. He lets out a content hum as your nails scratch at his scalp, running your fingers over the short cropped sides of his head. 

You let yourself relax further against Gaz, absentmindedly massaging Soap’s scalp. Your gaze is on the TV but you’re not really watching, too caught up in the bliss of the moment to really care. 

The moment is ruined as Soap’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He lets out a groan, shuffling around to fish it out, lifting his head to stare at the screen. 

“Have to take this.” He murmurs, pushing himself up off of your lap.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips before leaning over your shoulder, kissing Gaz. Your eyes widen as he leaves the room, your heart starting to race. Of course they kiss each other. It’s probably the most natural thing in the world to them. You’ve just never seen it. 

Much less be stuck in the middle of it. 

The images begin to flood your mind, your face getting warmer and warmer. The mental imagine of being sandwiched between them while they kiss over your shoulder, hands everywhere, skin against skin. 

“Enjoyed that, did you?” Gaz’s voice is husky in your ear, his lips brushing the delicate skin. 

Of course he can smell the hike of sweetness in your scent. His hand drops from where it had been wrapped across your chest, his hand trailing down until it rests against your stomach. His lips press against the sensitive skin beneath your ear, tongue darting out to taste. 

“Soon.” He murmurs, before leaning back, resting against the couch once more. 

Your face is burning hot, heart thumping in your chest. A shiver runs down your spine at the idea, your body relaxing further back against Gaz’s, your stomach fluttering as the warmth of his hand seeps through your shirt. 

You’re ready when he knocks, standing in front of your door again. You open it before he’s finished knocking, his hand falling back to his side. He stares at you for a breath before he turns on his heel, making his way from the barracks. 

You scramble after him as usual, following him into the gym and into the private room. You follow his lead of removing your shoes and jacket, falling into what’s become a routine for the two of you. 

“We’ll work on combos again.” He says, wrapping your hands for you, before his own. 

You go back through what you had done last time, all the combos you’d learned. Well, he told you. You’ve forgotten most of them after the exhaustion and a couple days off. You can tell he’s agitated already as he walks you through the combos, correcting your punches and stance. 

“Move your feet when you punch.” He says, kicking your back leg out from under you, dropping you onto your knee. “Otherwise you’ll hurt yourself.” 

“You’re going to hurt me doing shit like that.” You murmur, fixing your stance again. 

He grabs punch mitts, moving to stand in front of you. He calls out numbers, working through combos and punches. You miss a lot, still trying to memorize which punch belongs to which number and which order to swing your fists in. Part of you wants to drive your fist straight up the middle and into his face. 

A sudden hit to your shoulder sends you sprawling to the mat. You lay there for a second before looking up at him in shock.

“What was that?” You say, getting back to your feet. 

“Dodge or block, just like I taught you.” He says, swinging at you again with the mitt, forcing you back a step. “Your opponent won’t be standing still. You have to know how to throw punches and avoid the ones coming at you.” 

You huff out a breath, trying to stay aware and throw the right punch. You don’t manage to block or dodge every one, your shoulders getting sore as he hits you. He’s not pulling his punches by much, and you can imagine the bruises you’ll sport later. You’re getting tired fast, the combination of the physical effort and the brain power growing to be too much at this intensity so soon. 

A solid hit to the center of your chest as you sprawling out on the mat on your back, the air leaving your lungs with a horrible wheezing sound. For a moment you think he might have actually injured you, fear in your eyes as he looms over you. 

“Get up.” He says, shoulders squared like he’s the one in a fight. 

“Give me a second.” You say, still trying to catch your breath. “I need a break.” 

“There are no breaks in a fight.” He says. 

“Yeah, well, I’m starting to think maybe I should just give up and die if I ever get in a fight.” You snap. 

Something flashes through his gaze, the mitts hitting the floor with a thud. He grabs the front of your tank top, lifting you to your feet. He holds you in front of him, leaning down until you’re eye to eye. 

“You think it’s that easy to die? When the time comes you can just lay down and let it happen?” He growls, emotions flickering like flames in his eyes. 

“If this is what it’s going to take to live, then yeah.” You say, not backing down despite the prickling feeling at the back of your neck. 

“You have no idea what it’s like, when death is looming over you. The fear, the regret, the overwhelming push to fight to survive.” He’s close enough that if he wasn’t wearing a mask, you could have felt his breath on your face. 

“I don’t know because I’m not like you. I’m not a fighter, I’m not trained like you. When I asked you to teach me to defend myself, this is not what I meant.” You say, shoving against his chest. 

It takes him by surprise enough that he stumbles back a step. He catches himself easily, hands closing into fists at his sides. He’s ready to fight, you can see it. You’ve unlocked the alpha, angered the beast within him. 

His scent bowls over you, sending you scrambling back out of instinct. The prickling at the back of your neck intensifies and you try to clear your head, preparing you for this fight. You don’t stand a chance, you know that. Going off instinct alone, he could overpower you easily. 

Despite everything in your brain telling you to run away, you do the opposite, racing towards him. He catches you before you can hit him, your feet leaving the ground as he slams you into the mat. You kick and claw at him, catching him in the ribs but it doesn’t even seem to phase him. 

“What was your plan?” He growls, pressing harder against your chest as he keeps you pinned. “Try to take me off my feet? I’m bigger and stronger than you. That’s never going to work.” 

“Then stop being such a dick!” You yell, landing a kick against his hip. “You’re just a bully. A big bully. You’re just like my dad!” 

Both of you freeze at your words, your eyes wide as you stare up at him. His hand closes around the neck of your tanktop and for half a moment you’re scared he might sink his hand in and pull your spine right out through your chest. Instead he releases you, pushing himself up with a growl and making for his shoes. 

You push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he slips them on, grabbing his things before leaving out the door. 

You stare at the door wide eyed as it slams closed. You’re still laying there, chest heaving. You stare at it, half expecting it to open back up, for him to come back. He wouldn’t leave you alone, would he? He’s not supposed to. You’re supposed to have one of them with you at all times. 

You push yourself up onto shaky legs, slowly approaching the door, half expecting it to fly back open. Maybe he’s just standing right outside, maybe he’s just taking a breath and clearing his head. The handle is cold against your heated skin as you pull it open, sticking your head out. 

The hallway is empty. 

You quickly duck back inside, closing the door. He wouldn’t leave you. He wouldn’t leave you. Maybe he went to the bathroom. Maybe he just needed a moment to clear his head. Maybe he’s coming back. 

You sink onto the bench, trying to control your breathing as it starts to get heavy. You can feel that buzzing sensation in your head, your fingers and toes starting to go numb with panic. The one time you leave your phone behind, it’s the one time you need it. Maybe he’s coming back. 

You continue to sit there, waiting, fingers trembling as you put your shoes back on. Someone has to notice your absence eventually. Someone will notice you’re not in your room and you’re not answering your phone. Someone will come looking. 

Or is this a test? 

You’re panicking now, breaths coming in short gasps. You can’t just walk out of here using the front door. There’s alphas and betas crawling all over the gym and there could be a hundred between you and the barracks now. Someone will stop you. Someone will make a scene. 

You can’t reach the windows. Even then, they don’t open and it would be a straight drop to the ground on the other side. You can’t go out the front, but there’s an emergency exit just a few feet down the hallway the other direction. The medical center is the closest building to the gym. Even if Dr. Keller isn’t in her office this early, any of them would be the most likely to help you, to alert Price to your abandoned state. 

You have to get out of the gym. Your scent will reach the others in the building eventually, and someone will take notice. Someone will be bold enough to come after the lone omega. You’re panicking, your entire body trembling. Just out the door to the left and through the emergency exit. Then it’s just a few hundred yards to the medical center and then down the hall to Dr. Keller’s office. 

You can make it. You spent three months running with the CIA. Speed has always been your strength. Get out the door before anyone notices. You have to get out before someone notices and blocks your exit. 

Your mind goes blank as you throw open the door, feet slipping as you race around the corner and down to the emergency door. You don’t even feel the ache in your shoulder as you jam yourself against the door, not caring if it sets off an alarm as you shove your way out to the cool morning air. Your feet move without your brain needing to tell you as you sprint towards the medical building. There’s no one outside, no one milling in the area. No one sees you as you race through the doors, the automatic sliding doors almost catching you as you speed through them and down the hall. Your shoes squeak on the laminate floor, squealing as you slide to a stop in front of Dr. Keller’s office. 

You don’t even check if the light is on before you’re frantically knocking. Your breaths are coming in shallow gasps, black dots dancing in your vision as you fight to get air into your lungs. You need to be somewhere safe, you need somewhere safe before you pass out. You can’t pass out in the hallway. It’s not safe. 

You nearly fall as the door swings open, stumbling into the office. Dr. Keller says your name but you barely hear it, your legs giving out. She catches you before you fall, easing you into a chair. You sink into the plushness, shaking violently as you stare at her with wide, panicked eyes. 

“What is it?” She asks. “What happened?” 

“He...he left me!” You sob, your body starting to curl in on itself. “He...he just left me!” 

Dr. Keller’s voice sounds far away as she speaks, your vision starting to tunnel. You barely register the blanket being draped around your shoulders, the soft fabric tickling your cheeks. 

You don’t hear Dr. Keller on the phone, far too gone in your distress to hear the urgency in her normally calm and composed tone. 

Dr. Keller opens the door almost as soon as the knock sounds. Price is slightly out of breath, having reached the office faster than she had expected him to. 

“She’s in distress.” Dr. Keller explains as she lets Price into the office, shutting and locking the door behind him. “I need you to be clear headed.” She tells the alpha. “We can worry about why later, right now we need to get her calmed down, understood?” 

“Yes, Doctor” He nods, fighting the urge to recoil at the sharp bitter tang of omega distress heavy in the air. 

He’s angry, beyond angry but he knows he can’t let that take over right now. 

“You’ll need to hold her.” Dr. Keller says, approaching where you’re sitting on the chair. You’re hunched over, arms clutched to your chest as you gasp and wheeze, almost hyperventilating.  “It might be easiest on the floor.” 

It’s like moving a stone statue as he takes you into his arms, muscles tense and joints locked as your body attempts to protect itself. He sinks to the floor with you in his lap, wrapping his arms around you to support you.

“Slow deep breaths.” Dr. Keller pushes your head against his chest. “Get her to copy you. If her blood pressure gets too high, or she passes out we might risk losing her to her omega, and that will be dangerous for all of us.” 

“I know.” Price says as he puts a hand on your head, keeping you against his chest. “I’ve seen it happen.” He presses his cheek against the top of your head, taking slow, even breaths. “Come on, sweetheart. Alpha’s got you. Need you to breathe for me.” 

Dr. Keller slips a blood pressure monitor around your arm, fighting the stiffness of your limbs as she sticks a pulse monitor to your chest. Price continues to speak to you, trying to get you to relax.

Slowly as the minutes pass, your breathing begins to slow. Dr. Keller monitors your blood pressure and heart rate, watching it slowly begin to come down as the presence of your alpha soothes your distressing omega. 

“There we go.” Dr. Keller says, squeezing your arm gently. 

Your breathing slows, but your breaths are still heavy and shaky as you slowly begin to sink into Price’s hold, your muscles slowly relaxing from their tense state. You let out a high-pitched whine as the discomfort begins to set in, tears leaking from your eyes. 

“I know.” Dr. Keller says gently. “You’re doing so good.” 

You begin to shake uncontrollably again, Price tightening his hold around you. His hand moves to the back of your neck instinctively, gently massaging the tense muscles. 

“It’s just the adrenaline.” Dr. Keller explains, moving to the closet and pulling out a stuffed bear. She kneels back down, working your arms away from your chest just enough that she can slip the bear into your arms. “Squeeze that for me.” She says, pushing on your arms until you take over, squeezing the bear to your chest. 

You’re still crying as the shaking slowly begins to subside, another whine leaving your lips. You continue to squeeze the bear to your chest, brows pulling into a frown. 

“Don’ feel good.” You slur, taking a deep breath in. 

“I know, honey, I know.” Dr. Keller says, squeezing your leg. “You did really good, coming down from that. Just keep breathing and relaxing for me.” 

You continue to follow Price’s breathing, trying to will your muscles to relax in your exhausted state. Price continues stroking the back of your neck, his heart thumping steadily beneath your ear. 

“One more squeeze on your arm and then I can take the monitor off.” Dr. Keller says, taking your blood pressure one more time. “It’s normal if she’s a bit achy and sore for a couple days.” She explains to Price. “She might be a bit disoriented later too. The best thing she can do is rest and someone should stay with her at all times just in case.” 

Price leans his chin against your head, fighting the anger building within him. Something happened to cause this, and he has an inkling as to what it was. He tightens his hold around you as you sink into him even more, the shaking starting to subside. 

“You don’t sedate for distress?” He asks as Dr. Keller removes the heart monitor and the blood pressure cuff from you. 

Dr. Keller shakes her head. “Sedation can make distress worse in some cases. It’s jarring and disorienting and in some cases the omega might wake up and continue distressing. It’s only useful in cases of an actual medical emergency, or if there’s no alpha to provide a sense of safety and the omega starts to take over. Then they become a danger to everyone around them and themselves.” 

“I know how devastating that can be.” He says, staring down at you. “The worst people in the world like to use omegas as shields and bait. Sometimes there’s no other way...they get caught in the middle of bullets flying and explosions. The scent of blood and fear around them.” He shakes his head. “Even if they survive that, even if you save them, it’s too much and you just lose them to the omega.” 

“It makes me sick.” Dr. Keller shakes her head. “They’re human beings just like you and me and they get treated like chattel. They’re seen as nothing but property and valued only by what they can be used for. Omegas are incredible beings. In ancient cultures they were revered, worshiped. Some cultures believed they were closest to the gods, and some thought they were gods sent to earth to bless those that deserved it. How far humanity has fallen.” 

“You have a lot of respect for omegas.” Price says. 

“Respect, love, care. Someone in this world has to. That’s why I became a specialist.” Dr. Keller smiles. “Didn’t think I’d end up here, but if I can help even just one omega, that’s more than enough for me.” She pushes herself up to stand. “Let’s get her back to the barracks. She’ll be more comfortable in a familiar atmosphere.” 

Price pushes himself to stand, keeping you close to his chest. Dr. Keller locks her office behind her before following Price as he carries you from the medical center. 

“She needs to eat.” Dr. Keller says. “She won’t feel like it, but she needs the calories after that. She might be emotional and resistant for a bit, but once she’s fully awake she’ll be alright. Well...that might be a bad way to describe it. If anything happens, or she starts getting worse. Call me.” 

“I will.” Price tightens his grip for a moment, pushing down the anger. He can’t let it take over yet. He still has you to take care of. He still has his omega to look after. 

Dr. Keller opens the door to the barracks for him, watching him walk down the hallway for a moment before turning and leaving. 

Price opens your door, carrying you into your room. He lays you on your bed, making sure you’re comfortable before he steps back out the door. The scent of distress is heavy on him still, as is his building anger. 

“MacTavish! Garrick!” He shouts, both of the beta’s doors opening almost immediately. “Have either of you seen Lieutenant Riley this morning?” 

Johnny frowns, both of them approaching the obviously agitated alpha. “Naw, I havenae seen him all mornin’.” 

“I thought he was training this morning.” Kyle says, a frown pulling at his brows too. “Did something happen?” 

He steps back into your room, the two betas following. Kyle sucks in a breath as he stares at you laying there, seemingly peacefully but the quickly suffocating scent tells him otherwise. He moves to your side, sinking down on the edge of the bed next to you. 

“Wha’ happened?” Johnny asks, a subtle tremble to his voice. 

“There was an incident this morning.” Price says, digging into the very depths of his training to keep his head on straight. “Sent her into distress.” 

“That bastard.” Johnny growls. “When I find him-” 

“Easy.” Price says, putting a hand on the beta’s chest to stop him from his rampage. “You and I are going to get some food and then come back here. Garrick, you stay with our girl. If anything starts to go wrong, you call Dr. Keller first, then me. Then, I’ve got ghost hunting to do.” 

“Ye sure we’re alright, bein’ in her nest like this?” 

“It’s not much of a nest. Besides, our girl needs us.” 

“‘S cozy, that’s for sure.” 

“Could get used to it.” 

You have no control over the whine that’s pulled from your chest as you’re thrust into consciousness. You feel a bit like you’ve been hit by a truck, tossed from an airplane with no parachute, and like you just ran a marathon with no training, all at once. 

“Easy, love.” 

Hands smooth over your face, calluses rough on your burning skin. You feel hot, yet not warm enough at the same time. Your skin is prickling, needing freedom but to be held tighter than you already are. Someone is in front of you, their hand the one on your face. Someone else is behind you, wrapped around your back, arms keeping you held tightly against them. 

“Can ye open yer eyes for me, pretty girl?” 

Your eyelids feel like they’re made of lead. You don’t want to. You want to keep your eyes closed and sink back into oblivion where nothing hurts and you’re not confused. You let out another quiet whine before you force your eyes open, staring up at the blurry shape above you. 

“That’s it, lovely.” Soap says, his fingers still stroking your face. “That’s a good girl.” 

“Soap?” You whine, your voice cracking. 

He shushes you, tucking your face against his neck, letting you inhale his scent. “We've got ye, lamb.”

Another hand trails down your arm, gently squeezing. You're sore, even your breaths make your body ache. 

“You remember what happened, love?” Gaz says quietly, his hand the one gently stroking your arm. 

You inhale sharply, trying to clear the fog in your mind. “Ghost...” You breathe, the images coming to your mind but the words are lost. “Left me.” 

“Aye.” Soap says, sounding hurt and disappointed. “He was being a right bastard and left ye in the gym alone. Ye ran for the med center. Found the doctor.” 

“I...” You take a shaky breath, remembering the panic, the feeling of getting further and further from your body. “I was distressing.”

Gaz hums, wrapping his arms around you. “You distressed, love. Dr. Keller got Price in there in time, worked you through it.”

You let out a shaky breath, letting yourself go limp between them. It makes sense why you feel so awful, why your head is swimming. “What time is it?”

“Just after lunch.” Gaz says. 

“Gave us hell tryin’ tae feed ye.” Soap says. “Half fightin’ us, half out of it.” 

“Ghost?” You ask, almost afraid to find out the answer. 

“Got quite the verbal lashing from Cap'n Price.” Soap says. “Was gone for an hour yellin’ at him.”

It doesn't feel like enough, but you won't admit that out loud. You lean back against Gaz, letting both of their scents wash over you. 

“How do you feel, love?” Gaz asks. 

“Hurts.” You murmur, wrapping an arm around Soap. 

“I know. I'm sorry you had to go through this.” Gaz says pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “Just relax, love. We've got you.” 

You let your eyes slip closed again, relaxing between the two betas. You don't care that they're in your room, squished together in your bed with you. You need them and their support. 

You'd prefer having Price too, but you won’t dare say that out loud.

You fade in and out of sleep, letting them help you up a couple times as they move around, and move you around, helping you stretch to ease the ache in your joints and muscles. You wind up laying on Soap as Gaz goes to get dinner, his arms wrapped around your middle as you rest on his chest. 

“I am sorry about Simon.” He says quietly, lips brushing your forehead. 

“Don’t apologize for him.” You murmur. “It was partially my fault. I was egging him on.” 

“He shouldnae done tha’ though.” Soap says. “Leavin’ ye like that. ‘S dangerous, and not just for you.” 

“I did good. I got out without running into anyone.” You say, trying to reassure yourself before you lose it again. 

“You did perfectly.” A voice says, making you jump. 

Soap gently rubs your back as you blink up at Price. He’s standing in the doorway, holding two trays of food. You hadn’t even heard the door open. 

“Go on and eat in the mess, Johnny.” Price says, setting the trays on your desk. “I’ve got her for now.” 

Soap gently eases you off of him, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaving you alone with Price. He carries over a tray, setting it on your nightstand before kneeling down in front of you. He turns on your lamp, illuminating the room more than it was with your nightlight and the fading light outside. 

“How do you feel?” He asks, taking your hand in his. 

“Sore.” You say, squeezing his fingers. “But less than I was earlier. Moving around helped.” You sniffle, wiping the tear that escapes. “A bit weepy too.” 

Price smiles softly at you. “That’s expected. I’d be more worried if you weren’t.” He cups your face. “You did the right thing, taking the back exit and going for Dr. Keller’s office.” 

“Was closer.” You murmur. “Less risk of running into someone.” 

Price nods. “I doubt anyone would have stopped you, but that is still a risk.” He grabs the tray from the nightstand. “Eat up. I know you don’t feel like it, but you need it.” 

It’s almost like he read your mind. He moves to your desk, sitting in the chair. The food looks less appetizing than usual, but you know he’s right. Omegas expend a lot of energy while in distress. You’ll feel better if you eat. From the sounds of it, Gaz and Soap had attempted to feed you while you were still out of it, though you’re not sure how successful they were. 

You eat mostly in silence, but you don’t mind. You don’t have the brain power to think enough for a conversation, and you’re more than happy to just bask in Price’s calming presence. 

Gaz and Soap return after dinner, Price taking his leave again. You’re sure he’s busy, especially after this incident, but you can’t help but feel the sting of it just a bit. He had helped you through your distress, calming you down. You want him to lay next to you, to hold the back of your neck and remind you that he’s here, that he’s got you. 

That he’ll never leave you like that. 

Instead you curl up between Soap and Gaz, letting the calming present of betas relax you back to sleep. 

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up. Soap is gone, but Gaz is still pressed against your back, breathing evenly. You grab one of the phones off the nightstand, glancing at the time. It’s just past one a.m. You’re feeling thirsty again, and like you need to stretch your legs. Gaz is coiled around you, and you’re not sure how to get out without waking him up. You don’t want to disturb him, and you want a second to breathe and clear your head without the influence of his scent. 

You carefully roll away enough to grab the strawberry pillow off the floor from where it likely rolled after Soap left. You slowly ease it between your bodies until he’s wrapped around the pillow, settling with a sigh. You let out a quiet breath, rising from the bed slowly and padding quietly to the door. Your eyes are on him as you unlock it, slipping out quickly. You leave it cracked open before sneaking down the hallway towards the rec room. 

It’s quiet in the barracks, almost eerily so as you slip into the empty room, heading for the fridge. You stand there, half debating on a beer instead of water. Perhaps a little alcohol might numb at least some of the ache in your joins, or at least clear your mind a bit. You hate the taste of beer, though, and Gaz would know immediately. 

You sigh, grabbing a water, the back of your neck prickling as you stand up. You close the fridge door, whirling around, a scream caught in your throat. 

“Are you going to scream?” Ghost’s voice rumbles from behind his mask. He’s standing just inside the rec room, blocking the doorway. 

“Are you going to hurt me?” You ask, flattening yourself against the fridge. 

“Why would I do that?” He has the gaul to sound almost confused. 

“You seemed pretty eager to this morning.” You say, clutching the water bottle to your chest. “You abandoned me.” 

“I didn’t. I was right behind you the whole time, until you went into the med center.” He explains, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

“Well how was I supposed to know that?” You snap, getting agitated by the alpha and how he’s treated you thus far. “You just up and left me by myself in a vulnerable place. How was I supposed to know you were still there? For all I knew you were halfway back to the barracks. Was I just supposed to blindly trust that you would be there, that you would follow me if I decided to brave walking past a bunch of worked up alphas? I can’t trust that. I can’t trust you like that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because you haven’t given me a reason to!” You almost shout it, just managing to keep control over your volume so you don’t accidentally wake the others. “You don’t like me, you keep treating me like shit. Just going off of that, I wouldn’t put it past you to just up and leave me to fend for myself.” 

“I wouldn’t.” 

“But you did! You did today! You put me in danger! I distressed because of you! I haven’t distressed since-” You cut yourself off, deflating a bit at your near slip of words. You’re not sure you want to open that can of worms, allow for that kind of vulnerability with the alpha that had nearly killed you earlier. But, maybe you do need that kind of vulnerability. Maybe he needs it. “Since I was taken to the institute.” You finish, feeling yourself deflating a bit. 

Tears prick at your eyes, his own figure visibly deflating a bit. That scent is back, the one from a couple nights ago when you had run into him in a similar situation. You want out of here, you want back to the safety of doors around you, doors that could be opened and Ghost pulled from you easily if needed. 

“Move.” You say, bravely squaring up to the alpha blocking you in. 

He says your name like a warning, not budging an inch. 

“Move!” You shout, going for his middle with your shoulder, but he’s faster, catching you before you can hit him. 

“Calm down.” He growls, trying to hold your squirming form. 

One scream. One scream and the others would be on you. How quickly could Ghost act, though? How quickly could his hand close around your throat and squeeze, or maybe even twist? 

“Calm down!” He growls again, forcing you backwards. 

Your feet slip on the tile, sending you back onto your back. You wince at the jolt to your already sore body, the air leaving your lungs in a harsh gasp. Ghost sinks down to the floor next to the couch, leaning against the side of it like he can’t bear to hold himself up anymore. 

“It was a long time ago.” He starts, the tiredness evident in his voice. His eyes are on the floor in front of you, not even looking up as you push yourself up onto your elbows. “Back when I was a newly made Sergeant. My first deployment, first mission. We were hunting a man, real scum of the earth, chasing him through the jungle.” 

You almost want to stop him, unsure if he can even be telling you this, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. 

“Things got complicated when he swept through a village, picked up all the local omegas. He was using them as human shields. We cornered him in some run down shack. Him, his men, and the poor omegas. The commanding officer in charge of the mission started hostage negotiations, tried to get him to let the omegas go. He knew he’d lost, he’d never get out of there without being captured or killed.” Ghost shakes his head, letting out a heavy breath. “So he agreed. The commanding officer had to have known. We all should have known.” 

He goes silent, the quiet of the barracks and the world outside almost eerie. You’re sitting up now, almost holding your breath in anticipation. You’re not sure he’s ever spoken this much to you at once before, much less something that’s obviously so vulnerable, and potentially confidential. 

“He sent the omegas out in all directions, running straight at us. We were ordered to stay where we were. We couldn’t run out there, we couldn’t help them.” His hands close into fists, his scent souring. “They started firing at the omegas. There was one running straight at me. I still remember her, the look on her face. The fear in her eyes as she raced towards me.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I remember how the blood felt splattering on my face. The bullet shot right past my ear. She fell close enough I could have reached out and touched her. Clean shot right through the back of her head.” 

He shakes his head, finally looking at you. Tears have gathered in your eyes as you stare at him. His scent is sour, tinged with the tanginess that you had smelled a couple nights ago when he ran into you coming back from the rec room.

Fear. 

That scent is fear. 

“I still think about it. What if I had disobeyed orders? What if I had just reached out to help her? Would she have made it? Could we have brought at least one omega back to that village? Would the bullet have hit me instead?” He lets out a long breath. “I still have nightmares about it. See it clear as day, that look on her face seconds before her life ended.” 

You’re moving, crawling closer to him. He doesn’t move, not even a blink or a flinch as you get closer and closer until you’re in front of him, close enough to see the light blonde color of his lashes. He still won’t look at you, his gaze on the floor as you sit in front of him. 

“You saw me.” You say softly, not needing him to explain further. “Instead of some omega, it was me in your dream. You’re afraid. That’s why you treat me the way you do. You’re scared if you get close to me, if you allow me into the pack, allow me into this life, that something like that will happen to me. That’s why you were afraid that night, when I went to the rec room to grab water. You woke up from a nightmare about me.” 

He doesn’t say anything, but you don’t need him to. You’re beginning to understand him now. One moment of vulnerability and the complex specter that is Ghost is beginning to become clearer and clearer to you. He’s beginning to take shape, forming out of the mists of confusion and aggression that have plagued you since your arrival in his life. 

“That doesn’t make what you did okay.” You say, breaking the eerie silence again. “It doesn’t make the way you treat me okay, but I guess...I guess I can understand why now. Why you’re so hard on me, why you resist my mere existence here. You don’t have to like me, I’d just like you to be nice to me a little bit. You’re never going to convince Soap not to pursue anything, so, you’re just going to have to get used to me being around.” 

The corners of his eyes crease. It’s a half a second of movement, but you manage to catch it. He finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, eyes emotionless as they usually are when they look at you. 

“I still don’t forgive you for what you did.” You say, staring up at him. “And I don’t trust you,” You pull your knees up to your chest. “But I suppose I was also a bit at fault, saying those things to you.” 

“I deserved it.” He says. “I was being a dick.” 

Your brows raise as you stare at him. “Are you...apologizing?” 

“Don’t rub it in.” He says, the warning clear in his tone. 

“Well, I guess it’s a start.” You say. “I should probably get back to bed before Gaz notices I’m gone.” 

Ghost lets out a huff. “I’m surprised you escaped without him noticing.” 

You shrug, pushing yourself up to stand slowly. “He’s snuggling a stuffed strawberry right now, so...that probably says a lot about one of us and I’m not sure which is worse.” 

“Come on.” Ghost motions with his head. “Last thing we need is another panic at 2 am.” 

“Another panic?” You ask, dropping your voice to a whisper as you leave the rec room. 

Ghost chuckles. “You’ll have to ask Johnny about that one.” 

You stare at him for a moment as you stand in front of your cracked door. “Goodnight, Ghost.” 

He nods to you before you slip in, closing and locking the door. He stands there, listening to the bed shift as you crawl back into Kyle’s hold. He can picture the way the beta’s limbs coil around you like a snake. Would you lie facing him and cling to him like a koala? Or would you prefer facing away from him, letting him envelop you in a feeling of security and protection? 

Ghost shakes his head, inhaling the faint whiff of your scent still in the air before he turns, staring at his door for a moment before moving back down the hall, slipping into Johnny’s room instead. 

NEXT ->

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[anotherlongstoryshort]

Things about the Wisdom Saga that have plagued me all damn day

Legendary

Whether intentional or not, Miguel's Telemachus really sounds like a younger version of Jorge's Odysseus. And that hurts.

"If I fight those monsters, is it you I'll find?" The layers. Could he go out and hunt for his father? Could he find his 'legendary' strength within himself? Or will Odysseus be the 'monster' he finds?

"Somebody help me, come and give me the strength" And his call is answered T_T

20 years.

Antinous fully interrupts this bop. Rude.

Ayron sounds legitimately scary and Telemachus taking a stand is so O.O

Little Wolf

I wanna fight this guy. Love that Athena agrees. (The beat of the song and sharp bursts of vocals really emulate blows.)

The quaver on "I don't know how".

Athena is immediately charmed by Telemachus' enthusiasm. She sounds so fond.

The fact she sees heart in him as an advantage when it was Odysseus choosing heart over mind that drove them apart. Guh.

Did she tell him to bite Antinous? XD

"Oh, maybe I pushed you a bit too hard." The change in her perspective is already so apparent - she wouldn't have admitted a mistake or miscalculation to Odysseus.

We'll Be Fine

"I had a friend before..." A FRIEND? FRIEND?!?!

An admission that she didn't fully appreciate what Odysseus was going through, that she feels guilty for having "missed it all".

It's unclear to begin with if she's come to Telemachus for Odysseus, or to try and replace him. Both are equally heart-breaking.

"I don't know who your friend is, I don't know what he's like" UNKNOWINGLY ECHOING HIS OWN THOUGHTS IN 'LEGENDARY'. NO IT'S FINE I'M FINE.

"The best day of my life because I got in a fight and I didn't die! :D" Telemachus, child, please.

"We'll be fine" using the same run as "this is my goodbye" T_T

Him immediately offering up friendship to Athena, like Odysseus once did, must hit her so hard. "You're a good kid." Yes he is - because he's more like his dad than he knows.

Love in Paradise

"Old friend..." FRRRRRIIIIEEEENNNNNDDDDD!!!!!

10 years.

The memory fragments sounding so fraught and chaotic together, hitting harder because they're hitting Athena all at once. She missed a lot.

"She's my wife." "Anyways..." Calypso, girl, please.

Love that they're singing completely different melodies through the first half of this song for two reasons: because Odysseus is revisiting previous motifs, once more trying to hold onto the man he was, and also because it shows Calypso is not willing to compromise on what she wants.

"Last I checked goddesses can't die." We'll come back to this later.

Then Odysseus realises he is truly trapped and he sings along to Calypso's melody in muted horror.

POLITIES OUT HERE STILL HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE.

Just the words "open arms" are enough to confront Odysseus (again) with all he's lost. All he hears are screams.

And the one he screams out for is Athena.

"He needs my help." NO KIDDING GO GET YOUR BOY.

God Games

"Father, God, King..." There's a lot to unpack in that fun family dynamic.

"To untie apprehensions that were placed on that Greek?" Zeus is like, nobody likes that guy, why do you care?

The gods being called out like X Factor finalists is everything.

So there's a great contrast against the previous song - unlike Calypso, Athena is matching each of her singing partners with their tone and beat as she convinces them. She isn't winning by 'imposing her will', she's meeting them where they are.

Rational arguments work until Aphrodite, where Athena says "please" for the first time. She softens to appeal to Aphrodite, which is why Ares has to step in.

The way she says his name XD

Ares' lines sound like as much of a fighting chant as 'Little Wolf' did, which makes it all the better that the mention of Telemachus is what gets her to 'fight back'.

"His son's my friend!" YES HE IS. And Athena of all people declaring "a broken heart can mend" is fascinating. Can't help but wonder if she's talking about herself coming around to forgiving Odysseus.

"Never once has he cheated on his wife." Handwaving the source material is worth it for this line ALONE.

Zeus is so pressed by everyone openly knowing he cheats on Hera. Stop doing it then my dude.

Ares sounding genuinely concerned for Athena is doing things to me. Goddesses can't die, huh?

Her time motif flitting in and out like a weak heartbeat.

The soft piano of 'Warrior of the Mind', touching on a whisper of 'Legendary', then rising to a triumphant crescendo as Athena regains herself. I will be forever haunted by visions of Odysseus and Telemachus helping her to her feet.

And then, finally, she faces her own father and begs. Because Odysseus and Telemachus deserve a chance to be father and child.

The parallel, by the way, of Athena entering this saga to help an outnumbered Telemachus, and now closing it with him/Odysseus unknowingly helping her win her own battle too. JORGE HOW DARE YOU T_T

[lustlovehart]

You Gotta Kiss The One

A/n: This isn’t my usually writing, so this is more short scenario rather than actual story, so sorry if it isn’t my best. Anyways, I was in need of some fluff for the twst men so here we are. (This came out a bit cheesy honestly) Also, unfortunately no Jamil because i went through 7 drafts for his part and hated absolutely all of them.

Pairing: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Vil, Idia, Malleus, Rollo x Reader

Summary: [Fluff] In a turn of events, it seems you’ve lost your voice, and it’s up to the one you love to give out the cure, a kiss from their lips to yours.

Warnings: Cheesy Fluff, Reader wasn’t meant to be Yuu but they’re friends with Grim so, 50% Yuu.

Unfortunately, making potions with Grim never goes right. One moment, you’re carefully adding in the newt that assists in projecting a beautiful singing voice to its recipient, and in the next your head gets shoved in the concoction. When you finally emerge, your throat attempts to sound out your criticisms of Grim's recklessness. But, your lips are the only thing that moves in motion, your voice not even croaking out a word.

“Why ain’t yah talkin'?” Your hands quickly grab onto the recipe book pointing at the bold disclaimer at the bottom of the page.

If the potion is consumed before the newt is added, it will have the opposite effects.

Before you can read the rest of the text, your companion snatches the book from your hands, reading the rest of it on his own. When Grim reads out the instructions, your eyes narrow when you hear a slight chuckle escape from him when he tells you your only solutions. It’s either never talk again or...

Of course, never talking again has its pros, but, if you don’t have your voice, however will you tell… Him, about your feelings…? Of course, you could just write your confession, but that doesn’t have quite the kick words spoken from your chest do—

"Uhh... seems you gotta kiss your little crush [Name]!"

…

"What."

Before you're allowed to interject, Grim is already reaching his paw up and taking you by the hand, not even allowing you to tell Crewel about your situation. You’re quite sure if you had just told him you could’ve avoided the whole dilemma. Alas, Grim’s very eager in bathing in your embarrassment.

—————

Riddle is fuming at Grim's carelessness, it’s already bad enough that you have no magic in this faraway land, but to be subjected to a potion that doesn’t have a real cure? That’s even worse. He most definitely beheads the feline after he hears about the situation, immediately sending him onto a time-off corner, prattling on about how he should’ve been listening to the rules and acting accordingly in class.

His lecture is cut short at the sound of scribbling, his head turning to look at you furiously writing down on a piece of paper. Your lips are straight-lined as you lift the words to his face.

“Grim said the cure is a kiss.”

Oh… his mouth opens to question you more about this so-called cure, though the heart shape you form with your hands, however, is all the information he needs. It’s unfortunate that it only works if you kiss whoever it is you “love”, he could’ve gotten away with kissing you under the guise of helping if it was just anyone who could kiss you—

Who’s he kidding his face is close to turning red at such a thought. Of course the cure is something so basic, true love. Ah, no not true love, just simply a crush. Yes, a crush.

A crush that can’t be him.

He stays composed externally but internally he can’t deny he’s a little disappointed, it doesn’t matter however, he’ll help you get this kiss from your mystery student, even if it hurts a little to watch. The sound of flipping paper attracts his attention once again.

“So kiss me. Please.”

… What…? What…?! What?!

His eyes widen at the words, his mouth agape at the statement, his skin quickly flushing at the thought. You. Him. You and him. Him and you.

He’s essentially frozen in place. But, the extremely quiet sound of a broken up “okay” signals to you his permission. The feeling of soft lips being placed on his own snapped him out of his trance. He blinks a few times at your face, a smile invading your mouth.

“Thanks Riddle.”

—————

Your hands are furiously shaking Leona's shoulders, despite your relentless attempts at awakening him from his slumber, he doesn't even tell you to stop.

He didn’t even show any signal of stirring when Grim practically shouts to you about getting that kiss from him to “fix yah up”. Didn’t show any sign when you threw one of his shoes at the cat either.

He might be dead, he’s pretty still, like a corpse… Nah, he’s just being a douche.

Carefully, you drop down to his level, your face smooshed into his mattress as you look at his sleeping face. He looks a lot more peaceful in his sleep, his face is less serious and a bit more softer. He does look like a prince from a fairytale when he’s asleep, actually, maybe more of a princess with how pretty he is.

If you had your voice, you’re sure there would be hushed chuckles leaving your throat as you take out your phone. Your fingers are quick to swipe open your camera, lifting the device to Leona's face. Your joy doesn’t last long though, as when you’re just about to take a picture, the sight of Leona stares back at you on your screen, the subdued expression he previously held replaced with his usual face.

“What do you think you’re doin?”

…He’s awake! You’re quick to open the notes app, ready to explain the whole thing to him, along with indirectly confessing your feelings, unfortunately. But, he seems to think differently, as your phone is swiftly snatched from your palms and placed on his nightstand. When you reach over to grab it, his arm pulls you back down, your head buried into his chest, essentially being used as a secondary pillow for him.

“That typing’s loud, i’m tryna sleep.” … and I’m trying to get my voice back.

No matter how much you struggle, he doesn’t let you go. After a few minutes of trying to get your phone back, you give up, becoming his human-sized plushie in your defeat. Maybe he’ll be in the mood when he’s awake. So, your eyes gradually shut themself, sleep taking you over as you wrap your arms around the lion next to you.

…

“Hey, quit talking in your sleep.”

“Hmm…? Oh sorry— Wait what…?!” His palm flies of your mouth as words get muffled in his skin.

Appears you missed the Leona Kingscholar, kissing you. That’s unfortunate.

—————

“Hmm…? You need my help yes? Well then just sign here and I’ll get you that kiss you need!” Azul slips the golden contract across the table, the con man smiling as you read through the fine print.

In the corner, you notice the extremely tiny text saying how you’ll be obligated to stand by his side for the next month and do whatever tasks he needed to be done from you.

You swiftly slide the paper back to him as your head vigorously shakes a firm “No”.

“Oh? Do my terms not satisfy you? Your situation sounds very similar to our princess from the Coral Sea, having to kiss her prince for her voice back. I wonder how you’ll get that princely kiss…” he shrugs his shoulders before sighing, grabbing a stack of papers along with a pen, waving you off before looking at the sales revenue from this week. “No matter, if you don’t need my help please exit, I am a busy man—“

Your hand slams on the surface of his desk, his pupils widening at the sudden outburst. He stays silent for a moment, the glimmer of his glasses covering your view of his eyes. If you had, you would’ve seen the slightest hint of longing in him.

“A very determined soul you are… I'll change your conditions if you want your voice back so bad.” His fingers snap, the old contract disintegrating as a new one forms in his hands. “No fine print, I’ll help you get your kiss, and you work for the Monstro lounge for 2 weeks. Just 2 weeks. Is that a deal?” You squint, looking to make sure there really is no fine print. When you’re assured there really is none, you take a pen from his gloved palm, writing your signature on the line.

“It’s a deal it seems, now, tell me who it is you have affections for, and I’ll make sure you get that kiss—-“The sudden pull of his collar stops him mid-sentence, your lips connecting to his own before pulling away.

He’s extremely flustered, his cheeks blushed, his hat lopsided, eyes the widest you've ever seen them. He did agree to get you that kiss, but… he truly wasn’t expecting you to kiss him…! Of all possible candidates at the school…

“Wha… I’m… Huh…!?”

You straighten your posture before rolling your sleeves up, “So when do I start Azul?”

—————

Your eyes watch Vil meticulously crush, stir, and drop different ingredients into the cauldron, each one changing the color of the liquid inside. To be honest, you’re a little disappointed he knows a cure, you’ll have to wait another time before really confessing to him. His well manicured fingers take the ladle into his hand, carefully pouring the bright drink into a bowl, handing it to you as his eyes await for you to drink it up.

When you do, you set the bowl down, ready to speak, but no sound comes out. Your eyes stare into his, confusion set in your irises.

“I thought you had a dry throat?” Oh, you shake your head, your index finger pointing toward the cauldron and signaling poorly acted-out explosions and screams. “So it was a failed potion?” You pause for a moment before remembering what unit you were on in class. “It was that singing potion wasn’t it?” He contemplates for a moment before grabbing a small vile on the shelf, a potion the was already premade.

He pops it open, ready to pour it down your throat, but before he does, he pulls it back, quickly replacing the concoction with his extremely soft lips the taste of something good invading your taste buds, you assume it to be his chapstick. He stills for a moment, letting your lips lock and exchange touches. When he releases, he doesn’t give you the chance to interject, making you chug the drink down your throat, some of it escaping the corner of your lips, his gloved thumb wiping it off your chin.

“Vi… Vil…? Why’d you do that…?”

“How did Grim tell you to lift it?” He backs away from you, putting the empty glass in the sink.

“He said I… Had to kiss someone I liked. Why?”

“That’s what he said? Huh, I see.” He takes out his own brand of chapstick, reapplying it to his lips. You stay leant on the shelf of the rooms, watching as Vil’s silhouette moves towards the door. “No reason. Now, I have to get back to filming. Take better care of your lips, [Name].” He’s already out the door by the time you work up the courage to say anything else.

As he walks in the hallway, the leather of his gloves clench. It seems Grim did correctly tell you the cure. It doesn’t matter though, whether it was his kiss or that potion that worked, all he cared about was getting you fixed. He’s an actor, he’s keen to notice the presentations of people around him. He was sure you liked him, and even Rook fed into such a delusion. But, there was always a gnawing feeling of not being fair enough to you. So just in case, if you never really did like him, he won’t know.

He’s a good actor, but even actors can’t lie to themself. He really hopes it was his lips that cured you and not that potion.

…

The next day, when Vil finishes applying his makeup, the door to his room is knocked on, albeit very quickly. By the time he finally opens it, nobody is found, only a gift basket filled with fruits and low-grade beauty care, well low grade to him. If his suspicions about who this came from are correct, he can’t blame them for not having enough money to afford proper skin care.

When he looks in, all he sees is a card with a small smiley face and a heart. But he already knows who his secret sender truly is.

—————

Your knocking on Idias door gets harder and harder with every strike. You know he’s in there, but chances are he’s too absorbed in a game to notice your frantic hits. You’re about to hit the wood one more time before the door swings open and your fist is only an inch away from his nose.

“I… I only heard you just now…”

You’ve been out there for 10 minutes.

“You didn’t text me beforehand like usual… Is… Is there something you need…?” He steps to the side allowing you in his room, immediately having you sit on his bed before shutting the entrance. You look around a moment before handing him the note you had pre-written on your phone.

“No voice. Cure is a kiss from person I like. I like you, Idia. Please kiss me.”

It isn’t exactly the confession you wished to give him, but by the time you were typing it, you had deleted so much of the text you originally had from embarrassment, and by the time you looked up, you were already at his door… and Ortho was beaming in excitement behind you, you couldn’t possibly disappoint him by just walking away again.

He essentially shortcircuits the moment he reads the words off the screen.

He doesn’t speak, not even a panicked screech. The only sign of embarrassment he shows you is the sight of his hair turning pink.

“Wha… Wha… What…?”

You expected that, so you lifted your finger, signaling him to scroll down.

“You don’t need to like me back, just kiss me and i’ll leave.”

“No no, If we were in like… like a game… that type of game… you would have… ughhh…. You would have my… affection bar… filled— not filled maybe like 110%… up…” he struggled to get the words out he didn’t even make eye contact with you once in his speech. But, you understand what he’s trying to say to you. “Nevermind, forget it…! Just find someone… someone else… you deserve like a prince of something…”

His posture is hunched over, and he’s quick to turn away from you. You’re sure if he was closer to the wall he would curl into the corner and attempt to hide from you.

You’re pretty sure he’s about to do just that, he’s already slowly making his way to the corner. He’s only narrowly stopped when he feels you tug on his sleeve, pulling his face into your own.

His mouth was slightly open from shock, so his razor sharp teeth poked you, but even then it was still a nice feeling. When you part, he stares at you for an entire minute. His hair was already pink, but somehow it must’ve gotten even pinker.

“You… You won the game…”

“Did I…? What does that mean…?”

“Forget I said that. I’m gonna die now”

—————

It’s been at least half an hour since you’ve met up with Malleus, and he seems to not have noticed you don’t have a voice to reply. But at the same time, it’s nice listening to him ramble on and on about his Gargoyle studies—

“You have not spoken.” Your head is quick to turn, your body slightly jolting at the sight of Malleus’s face mere inches away from your own. Sometimes, you forget he doesn’t have any sense of space. This point is further proven when he moves his face away but your shoulders are still in contact. “Why is that?”

Your hand reaches down to your side attempting to take out your phone, but, it only grasps air. You look back down into your pocket, not noticing any holes for it to fall out of.

What? Did… Did I loose it or something?!

“This thing…” your head flips back to the man in front of you, his gloved fingers turning the phone with narrowed eyes. “I don’t understand, why not just talk to me? Would you rather use this phone than converse with me…?” You can spot early signs of Malleus’s emotional turmoils. It doesn’t take long for you to see the hint of disappointment in his eyes at the mere notion of you not even wanting to talk to him.

Along with that, clouds are beggining to form in the sky

You immediately shake your head at him, your fingers pointing to your throat while forming an x. Though your movements are so quick from the sheer panic of lightning striking, he doesn’t understand what you’re doing until you slow down.

“Ah, you did talk about that potion unit didn’t you.” You nod your head, ready to perform a collection of poorly acted-out charades to showcase your cure. You only got as far as the heart in your hands before he interrupts. “If I remember correctly, the fix to that is a kiss from the one who holds your affections… is it not?” The boom of thunder increases at an incredible rate, and even the pout Malleus holds on his face gets more obvious. “Have you come here to ask for my aide?” You can tell, it’s very obvious he’s trying to hide his dispiritedness beside a veneer of support. “Then… I will help a dear… friend.”

At his words, you shake your head the hardest you’ve probably ever shaken it to disagree with someone. You’re sure you must’ve swayed your brain too hard, by the time you stop you honestly feel a little dizzy.

“Ah, do you not want my help?” The lightning in the air starts fading, but in exchange, it’s like the clouds have gotten darker. “Am I, not allowed the see the object of your desire?” You wish you just had your phone out from the beginning, it would’ve made things so much easier. You bring your arm up, pointing at him.

Malleus is smart, he needs it if he will be Briar Valley’s ruler. Yet, he’s a bit dense in terms of human emotions and relationships.

“I thought you didn’t want my help…?” You’re sure if you could make any sound, pure screams of frustration would’ve left you. “I’m left in confusion as to how it is I can help you. I want to assist you Child of man but, I don’t wish to see you kiss anyone else—“Your hands immediately take him by the tie, dragging him into you as your lips practically smash together. If anyone saw you, such a scene would be quite the scandal for the heir. Minutes go by when you finally release him, and when you look up, the sky is the clearest it's been for the past month. “So it was me.” The look in his eyes is fond, it’s a warm sight.

“Yeah, I can’t believe you didn’t notice sooner, I didn’t hide it…”

“You didn’t?”

“I confessed to you twice before this Malleus…”

—————

(This is self indulgent cuz i’m unfortunately a Rollo fan…)

Considering how far away Noble Bell is from Night Raven, you have no doubt you’d be stuck voiceless for quite awhile before you get to see Rollo again. Grim is just left to watch you sulk as your head falls in disappointment. You honestly don’t know how to tell Rollo about your situation either, you could always text him, but how do you even tell him you need to kiss him as your cure? Along with that… over text? That’s just pathetic. He’d probably shame you for being so ungraceful with your feeling towards him.

“Quit moppin’ and tell him already! I’m gettin' depressed just watchin’ ya…” with your head buried into your arms you can feel Grim practically shaking you out of your ball of shame with his tiny paws. “Come… on…! You’re not gonna get your voice back doin' nothin’!” He’s… unfortunately, completely correct.

With a soundless groan, you reach for your phone and open your contacts, drafting the text you’ll send to Rollo.

Rollo, I need to tell you something… your fingers continuing to vigorously type your paragraph.

Three knocks disperse your attention.

“[Name] are you there?” The familiar voice immediately strikes panic in your body as you accidentally throw your phone into the air, pathetically catching it as you stumble towards the door with a loud thud. On the other side, the door can be seen harshly shaking at an impact from within the room, Rollo glancing to each side of him in confusion. “Are you okay?” The lack of a reply makes worry bubble inside of him.

Before he’s given the chance to open the entrance himself, the door swings inward, allowing him to peak in through the crevice. He looks inside with initial confusion before hurriedly shuffling towards the room, the sight of your body on the floor making him even more puzzled with every passing second.

He lifts your upper body, having you sit face to face with him in such close proximity. Your eyes are dazed, looking directly into his eyes before looking around as if you didn’t even notice this was the genuine Rollo Flamme and not just a product of your imagination.

Damn you Grim… Leaving me as soon as you opened the door…

“Your room… is very disorderly [Name].” I was on the floor and you’re focused on how messy my room is? “I did tell you about how messy it was last time I was here too didn’t I?” I get it, I’m messy, so stop rubbing it in… A moment of silence passes before he quirks up an eyebrow, suspicions of his growing by the minute. “No witty comeback this time? Have you finally decided to start listening to me?” Your lack of reply Honestly worries him. Your eyes take a glance at your phone, making his tired face look over as well.

When he moves to grab it, he pauses his hand frozen in place. Your text is still displayed on your screen, as well as the current predicament you find yourself in. Realization hits you in waves as you quickly crawl over to snatch your phone from his palm. When you tried, his hand moves away in time to avoid your reach.

“It’s quite distasteful to admit such a thing through text.” I knew it… your head leans down, once more, in defeat. But, that's quickly changed when his nimble fingers take your face and lead them to his own. Honestly, it felt as if it lasted for eternity when in reality, the exchange only lasted for a couple of seconds. It was as if, Rollo finally felt the need to indulge himself in a little sin, only a little. When you finally separate, you're both left on the floor of your room, awkwardly glancing at the material.

“So… why’d you come here, Rollo? I thought after everything that happened at Fleur City you wouldn’t wanna come here again…”

“I do. I still don’t wanna be here.”

“Then why are you—“

“There’s a holiday at Noble Bell, we have a day off. I came to spend it with you.”

A/n: If anyone has like, any thoughts for the twst characters pls share them!! I may not be doing requests right now but I might write something short of you send in an ask!! Honestly, I just really enjoy when people ramble in my inbox. Also, I’m not too familar with writing Idia and Leona so i’m sorry if they weren’t written good!

[goldfades]

LOVE IS THE ONE THING THAT CANNOT BE TAINTED BY FEAR OR DOUBT──FATHER CHARLIE MAYHEW (part 2)

part one!!

for this request!!

─ summary | a week after megan caught you and father charlie, higher-ranking members of the church summon both of you for a stern warning. they threaten severe consequences—not just losing your positions, but eternal damnation—if you don't end your affair, and though you try to stay composed, charlie's anger flares as he refuses to accept their condemnation

─ pairing | father charlie mayhew x fem!mother!reader

─ word count | 5.3k

─ warnings | pretty angsty + dramatic but has a happy ending, forbidden love, descriptions of having a big family. also wanted to put out there that this in no way shape or form trying to depict the church as something bad, every church is different and this is just fictional and very self-indulgent.

─ ev's notes | my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! this was super self indulgent and i swear i say that every time but it's true. the happy ending was sorta like... my happy ending LMAO but i just wanted them to end up together. this was super fast paced (ik... 5k words and """fast paced""") but if u read it, you'll know what i mean.

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

Father Charlie’s face is pale, his eyes wide with fear as the weight of what just happened begins to settle between you. The churchyard, once a sanctuary, now feels like a trap. You stand there, unable to move, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Megan—” you try to call out, your voice catching in your throat, but she’s already gone, disappearing into the shadows of the church.

Father Charlie turns to you, his hand trembling as he runs it through his hair. “This… this can’t get out. It’ll ruin everything,” he says, his voice breaking under the pressure. He paces, eyes darting toward the church doors as if expecting Megan to reappear any moment with a crowd of witnesses.

Your chest tightens. You know what’s at stake—the life you’ve both built within the church, the delicate balance of your roles, the unspoken rules you’ve crossed. There’s no undoing what’s been done.

“I didn’t mean—” you begin, but he cuts you off, stepping closer, his hands gripping your arms with desperate intensity.

“It’s not your fault,” he says, his voice urgent. “I should have never let it get this far. But Megan… she can’t know. No one can know.”

You nod, but the truth gnaws at you. This wasn’t just a fleeting moment of weakness. The kiss—the feelings behind it—have been building for longer than you want to admit. And now that the barrier has been broken, there’s no pretending you can go back to how things were.

“What if she tells?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

Father Charlie’s eyes meet yours, his face full of guilt and something else, something darker—a simmering fear. “I’ll talk to her. I’ll make sure she doesn’t say anything.”

The way he says it makes your stomach twist. You’ve never seen him like this, so cornered, so desperate. For a brief moment, you wonder if you’ve unleashed something in him that can’t be controlled.

“I have to fix this,” he mutters more to himself than to you, already starting to move toward the church, determination in his stride. “Go home. Don’t come back until I say it’s safe.”

You open your mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stops you. There’s no room for discussion. The weight of your guilt, mingled with fear, presses heavy on your chest as you turn and leave, knowing that the fragile world you both clung to is about to shatter.

As you walk away from the church, the echoes of the kiss linger on your lips, but now they taste bitter—haunted by the knowledge that you’ve crossed a line you can never uncross. And Megan, with her watchful eyes, has seen it all.

The walk from the church feels impossibly long, every step weighed down by the suffocating pressure of what’s just transpired. The once-bright sky has dimmed into muted shades of twilight, the air thick with impending doom. You can feel the weight of it pressing against your chest, making it hard to breathe. The churchyard, so familiar and comforting just moments ago, now seems cold, distant—like it’s pushing you away.

You glance back once, just once, and catch sight of Charlie disappearing into the stone walls of the church. His movements are hurried, frantic, and it only makes the knot in your stomach tighten. You know he’s going to confront Megan. You know he’ll do everything in his power to convince her to stay silent, to protect both of you, but the seed of doubt has already taken root. What if she doesn’t listen? What if Megan has already spread word of what she saw?

The fear claws at your insides.

You replay the moment over and over in your mind—the kiss, the way his lips had pressed against yours with a hunger that had long been suppressed, the heat of his body against yours. It was more than a moment of weakness; it was the culmination of everything you had been hiding, everything you’d tried to bury under the weight of duty. You had always known there was something between you and Charlie, but you had told yourself it was nothing, that it could never be anything more than unspoken glances and the occasional brush of hands. But now, the truth is undeniable.

You love him.

And it terrifies you.

As you turn the corner, moving further away from the church and deeper into the quiet streets, you try to suppress the panic building inside you. You force yourself to breathe, slow and steady, even as the thought of what comes next twists and knots in your chest. Megan… she had seen everything. Her eyes, wide with shock and something close to betrayal, flashed in your mind like a warning. She would never understand. She couldn’t. To her, this wasn’t just a mistake or a lapse in judgment—it was blasphemy, a defilement of everything sacred.

You walk faster, as if the distance could somehow cleanse you of what just happened, but the weight of your sins follows you, heavy and unrelenting. By the time you reach your small, modest home, the last of the daylight is gone. The darkness feels fitting, like a cloak draped over the truth you’re so desperate to hide.

You fumble with the key, your hands trembling, and push open the door. Inside, the space feels too small, too confining. The walls close in around you, suffocating in their familiarity. You collapse onto the nearest chair, your mind racing, trying to make sense of what comes next.

You think of Megan again, the way she had slipped away so quickly, disappearing into the shadows like a ghost. What had she seen? How much had she heard? Would she go to the elders? To the congregation? Your stomach churns at the thought of everyone knowing, their judgmental eyes stripping you bare, seeing you for what you truly are—a sinner. You can already picture the looks, the whispers that would follow, the way they’d turn on you. And Charlie—God, what would happen to him? His role as a priest, his entire life, would be torn apart if this got out.

You can’t let that happen.

But no matter how much you try to focus, your thoughts keep pulling back to him. To the way he looked at you in those moments after Megan had fled. His face, pale with fear, but his eyes… they had been filled with something more than just panic. There had been a tenderness there, a quiet desperation, as if he had wanted to say something, to comfort you, but the words had been lost in the gravity of the situation. And now, the distance between you feels like a chasm, one that neither of you can cross until you know what Megan will do.

The hours stretch on in painful silence. You sit by the window, staring out into the night, your heart heavy with dread. Every sound, every rustle of wind, makes you jump, half-expecting someone to come knocking at your door, to drag you back to the church and expose your sin to the world. But no one comes. The night is as still as your breath, suspended in an unbearable waiting.

You wonder how Charlie is faring. Is he talking to Megan right now? Is he pleading with her, trying to make her understand? Or is it too late—has she already made up her mind? The uncertainty gnaws at you, each minute that passes feeling like an eternity.

The quiet is suddenly interrupted by a soft knock at the door. You freeze, your heart stopping for a beat, your blood running cold. For a moment, you can’t move, can’t breathe. Then, slowly, you rise from the chair, your body moving on instinct. You approach the door with trembling hands, every step echoing like a drumbeat in the stillness of the house.

When you open it, Charlie stands on the other side.

His face is pale, his eyes dark and sunken, as though he’s aged years in the span of a few hours. His expression is grim, but beneath the weariness, there’s something else—something raw, something desperate. He steps inside without a word, closing the door behind him, and the weight of everything that’s happened settles between you.

“What happened?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

For a long moment, he doesn’t speak. His hands are shaking, and you notice the way he clenches them into fists, trying to steady himself. “She’s not going to tell anyone,” he finally says, but his voice is hollow, and you know that’s not the whole story.

You take a step closer, searching his face for answers. “What did you say to her?”

Charlie’s eyes meet yours, and there’s a flicker of something dark in them—something you haven’t seen before. “I made sure she understood,” he says, but there’s no relief in his voice. No victory. Only guilt.

Your stomach tightens as his words sink in. You want to believe him, to trust that everything will be okay now, but the look in his eyes tells you that nothing will ever be the same. Not between you. Not between him and the church. And certainly not between him and Megan.

The silence stretches on, thick and heavy with unspoken truths, and you realize that whatever you thought you were protecting has already been lost. The kiss, the secret moments, the connection between you and Charlie—it’s all unraveling, piece by piece, and there’s no going back now.

You don’t know what he did. And you’re not sure you want to.

All you know is that something has shifted between you, and the fragile world you’ve built together is starting to crack.

“I… I couldn’t let her ruin this,” he says, his voice low and almost pleading. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to cup your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek as though he’s trying to memorize the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips. “You have no idea what you mean to me.”

You swallow hard, your heart thudding in your chest. There’s a rawness to his words, a vulnerability that you’ve never seen in him before, and it makes the knot in your throat tighten. “Charlie,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

“No,” he says, his voice firmer now, more certain. “You need to hear this. I love you.” The words hang between you, heavy and full of meaning. His eyes search yours, as though he’s terrified of what your response might be, but at the same time, there’s a conviction in him that tells you he’s been holding onto this for far too long.

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, the world falls away. The fear, the uncertainty, the guilt—it all fades into the background, and all that’s left is the truth. He loves you.

And God help you, you love him too.

“I love you, too,” you finally say, the words slipping out in a rush, like a dam breaking. The weight of them is staggering, but also freeing, as though admitting it has somehow lifted the burden from your chest.

Charlie’s eyes soften, and in that moment, the darkness, the fear, everything that’s been hanging over you both seems to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in this fragile, stolen moment.

He pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead, then your temple, and finally, he presses a soft kiss to your lips. It’s tender, sweet, and laced with the kind of love that’s been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. For a few precious seconds, you allow yourself to get lost in him—the warmth of his body, the way his hands cradle your face like you’re something fragile and precious. There’s no guilt in this kiss, no shame. Just love.

But as sweet as it is, there’s still a bitter edge, the reminder of what’s been lost. The weight of what happened earlier, of Megan’s watchful eyes, lingers like a shadow over your joy. You pull back slightly, your heart aching as you search his face for reassurance.

“What are we going to do?” you ask, the question heavy with fear and uncertainty.

Charlie lets out a soft sigh, his hand still resting against your cheek. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

The simplicity of his words settles over you, warm and comforting, but the reality of the situation isn’t so easily dismissed. You know the risks, the consequences that loom over both of you like a dark cloud, but right now, in this moment, with his arms wrapped around you, it feels like you can face anything.

He leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as though he’s savoring the closeness, the peace that you’ve found in each other, if only for this fleeting moment. “I don’t care what happens,” he whispers. “As long as I have you.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mixture of happiness and sorrow, because you know that this love—the love you’ve both fought so hard to deny—is as beautiful as it is dangerous. The church, the life you’ve built, the faith that has defined you for so long—it all stands in opposition to what you feel for each other. And yet, here you are, standing on the precipice, ready to fall.

“I’m scared,” you admit softly, your voice trembling.

Charlie pulls you tighter against him, his breath warm against your skin. “So am I,” he confesses, his voice breaking just a little. “But I won’t lose you. Not now. Not ever.”

You stay like that for what feels like hours, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding solace in the quiet, in the shared heartbeat that thumps in time with your own. For once, it feels like you’re not fighting against the world, but standing together, ready to face whatever comes next.

But the bitterness still lingers, a quiet reminder that nothing about this is simple. The danger hasn’t passed, and Megan’s silence, though promised, may not last forever. You both know that this moment—this love—comes with a cost.

Still, for now, you allow yourself to hold on to the sweetness of it, to the warmth of his embrace, and the knowledge that whatever happens next, you won’t face it alone.

───

The bells toll, echoing through the towering walls of the old church, signaling the end of Sunday Mass. Parishioners, still murmuring prayers under their breath, make their way toward the grand double doors, their heads dipped in reverence. The air is thick with incense, mingling with the faint scent of candle wax, and the murmured conversations of the faithful filter out as they depart.

You stand by the altar, adjusting your habit, feeling the familiar weight of responsibility settle over you. It had been a week since the kiss—since Megan’s eyes had caught the forbidden moment. You and Father Charlie had been careful, the tension between you palpable but unspoken. There was no room for slip-ups now, not with what was at stake.

But just as you turn to head back toward the sacristy, you notice something that sends a chill through you. A group of clergy—men dressed in higher clerical vestments, their expressions stern and unyielding—are making their way toward the two of you. The archbishop, Father Lucian, leads them, his presence commanding and severe, a man of high standing in the church, second only to the bishop himself. Behind him are two more senior priests, Father Augustine and Monsignor Ramos, known for their strict adherence to church doctrine.

Charlie stands frozen for a moment, his usual calm demeanor stiffening as he recognizes the gravity of what’s about to happen. His eyes meet yours briefly, and in that split second, you both know. They know.

Father Lucian stops in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back. His face is impassive, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating, filled with judgment and a quiet, simmering disappointment. The silence stretches on, unbearable, until finally, he speaks.

“Father Charles,” Lucian’s voice is deep and resonant, cutting through the stillness like a blade. “Mother Y/N. We need to speak.”

Charlie straightens, his jaw set in that familiar stubborn way, but his eyes flicker with something darker—anger, perhaps, or fear. You step closer to him, your heart hammering in your chest.

“We’ve been made aware of certain… transgressions,” Father Lucian continues, his voice cold, deliberate. “Ones that go against the very foundation of your vows—vows of purity, of dedication to God and His teachings.”

Father Charlie’s hands tighten into fists at his sides, though he doesn’t say anything yet. His silence, however, feels like the calm before a storm.

“We’ve heard unsettling rumors,” Monsignor Ramos says, his voice carrying a softer, but no less menacing tone. “Of inappropriate closeness between the two of you. Intimacies that have no place within these sacred walls.”

Your stomach drops, the air around you suddenly feeling too thick, too stifling. The weight of their accusation presses against your chest, suffocating.

Father Augustine steps forward, his eyes sharp with accusation. “You both took vows before God,” he says, his voice unwavering. “To forsake earthly temptations for a higher calling. But what we’ve witnessed… it is not the first time such weakness has crept into the church. We cannot allow it to continue.”

You want to speak, to defend yourself, but your throat tightens, and words fail you. Beside you, Charlie’s breathing grows heavier, his anger barely contained.

“If you do not end this… affair immediately,” Father Lucian says, his voice dropping, “there will be consequences far worse than dismissal. You will not only lose your positions here, but you will face the eternal damnation of your souls. Your actions are not just a violation of church law but of God’s law. Do you understand?”

The implications hit you like a blow—hell. They’re threatening you with eternal punishment.

Father Charlie, who had remained silent until now, suddenly takes a step forward, his voice trembling with anger. “And who are you,” he says, his voice low but dangerous, “to tell us about the state of our souls?”

The senior clergy exchange glances, surprised at his defiance. But Charlie continues, his voice growing stronger. “Yes, we broke our vows. But this—what we feel—it's not some… sinful temptation. It’s love. And I won’t stand here and let you condemn us without knowing what’s in our hearts.”

Father Lucian’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, the tension is palpable. “Father Charles, you forget your place,” he says coldly. “This is not a matter of love. It is a matter of duty. Of obedience. You swore your life to God, not to your desires.”

“I didn’t swear my life to a prison,” Charlie snaps, his voice shaking with fury. “I swore my life to serve God, to care for people. But you—you’d rather see us as sinners than as human beings.”

“Father Charles,” Monsignor Ramos says, his voice hardening, “you are speaking out of turn.”

“No,” Charlie interrupts, turning to you, his hand reaching for yours without hesitation. “I’m speaking the truth. I won’t let you use God as a weapon to control us.”

Your hand grips his tightly, and despite the cold sweat trickling down your spine, you feel an odd sense of strength radiating from him. The threat of hellfire lingers in the air, but for the first time, it doesn’t feel so terrifying with him standing beside you.

Father Lucian’s gaze hardens, his lips thinning into a severe line. “This is your final warning. End this now, or face the consequences.”

Charlie stares back at him, unwavering. “I’d rather face hell,” he says softly, “than live a lie.”

The silence that follows is deafening, the weight of his words hanging between you and the clergy like a challenge. They stand, frozen for a moment, taken aback by his refusal. The unspoken threat remains—hell, ruin, the dismantling of everything you’ve both worked for.

But for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel afraid. You look at Charlie, his face set in defiance, and something inside you shifts. Maybe this is the beginning of the end, but it’s also the beginning of something else—something true, something worth fighting for.

The silence stretches unbearably in the cold churchyard, the tension thick as a storm building on the horizon. The senior clergy stare at Charlie, their expressions hard, almost disbelieving that he’s standing against them. Father Lucian’s eyes narrow further, but his voice remains steady, with a chilling authority.

“You are not beyond redemption,” he says, the words deliberate, cutting. “But defiance will not save you from the consequences of your actions. Think carefully before you decide to sacrifice everything—your calling, your salvation—for something so… fleeting.”

Charlie’s grip tightens around your hand. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down. His next words, however quiet, carry an unshakable resolve. “I’ve already decided. I won’t live a life of half-truths. If that’s what it takes to serve God here, then I’ll find my own way.”

Father Augustine inhales sharply, looking between you and Charlie with something resembling disappointment—or perhaps disdain. “This will not go unpunished,” he mutters, his tone cold and unyielding. “There are consequences for every action, Father Charles. You’ve been warned.”

Without another word, the three clergymen turn on their heels and leave, their footsteps echoing ominously against the stone floor of the church. The weight of their warning lingers, even after they disappear into the distance.

You and Charlie stand there, unmoving, his hand still wrapped tightly around yours. The tension in his body slowly ebbs, though his grip remains firm, as if he’s grounding himself in this moment, in you. The sky above is clear, but there’s a storm brewing, one you can’t ignore any longer.

“Charlie…” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the quiet rustling of leaves in the courtyard. “What are we going to do?”

He exhales deeply, his shoulders dropping as he turns to face you fully. His eyes search yours, filled with the same mixture of love and uncertainty that’s been building between you since that night in the church. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice softer now, the fire from before replaced with a gentle resignation. “But I know I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

You feel the same pull in your chest, the same conflicted desire that’s been tearing you apart. Everything you’ve built within the church, every vow you’ve taken—it’s all crumbling around you. But Charlie… he’s the one thing that still feels real, the one person you’ve come to rely on, to love in ways you never expected.

“I can’t lose you either,” you admit, your throat tight, emotions swirling in a confusing blur. “But they’re right… If we keep going like this, it won’t just be losing our positions. It’ll be worse.”

Charlie’s gaze darkens for a moment, as if weighing the enormity of it all. He steps closer, lifting his hand to gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in a tender, almost reverent motion. “I know the risks,” he says, his voice steady, filled with an unshakable determination. “But the risk of not having you in my life… that’s worse.”

You close your eyes at his touch, leaning into the warmth of his hand. His words wrap around your heart, pulling you closer to the edge of something you can’t take back.

───

The decision had been made in a heartbeat, almost too quickly for either of you to process. One moment, you were standing in the courtyard, exchanging quiet promises of love and loyalty; the next, you were both packing your modest belongings in a small room that had been your sanctuary for years.

Charlie’s movements were hurried but deliberate, his usual calm demeanor now laced with an urgency that mirrored your own. You threw robes and personal items into a small bag, your heart pounding as the reality of your situation sank in.

“We can’t stay here,” he had said, his voice shaking with conviction. “Not after that. If we don’t leave now, they’ll find a way to tear us apart.”

You agreed, knowing deep down that the church, once a symbol of comfort and belonging, had become a prison. It wasn’t just Megan’s spying or the warnings from the senior clergy—it was everything. The suffocating weight of the vows, the whispered rumors, the constant feeling of being watched. You couldn’t breathe here anymore.

The room, usually filled with quiet prayer and reflection, was now buzzing with the frantic energy of departure. Charlie stopped for a moment, watching you from across the room. His eyes were dark, filled with an intensity you had rarely seen before. He came closer, brushing his hand across your cheek, tilting your chin so that you met his gaze.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “We’re leaving everything behind.”

You nodded, heart pounding, but with a certainty that surprised even you. “I’m sure. I can’t stay here, Charlie. Not without you. Not like this.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as if savoring the moment, as if holding on to this fragile piece of certainty before everything crumbled.

“We’ll be alright,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “We’ll find a way. Together.”

You smiled, a bittersweet knot forming in your chest. The thought of leaving everything you’d known was terrifying—but the thought of staying, of pretending, of hiding this love… that was worse.

A knock at the door startled you both, and your heart leapt in your chest. You turned to the door, half expecting to see Father Lucian or another member of the clergy, ready to drag you back into the suffocating confines of the church’s judgment.

But it was Megan.

Her eyes were wide, but there was something softer in her gaze now—something you hadn’t seen before. She hesitated in the doorway, her hand lingering on the knob as she looked between you and Charlie.

“I—I heard,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re leaving?”

Charlie tensed beside you, but you took a step forward, your heart racing. “Megan… I know what you saw. I know what you think, but—”

She shook her head, cutting you off. “No. It’s not that. I—” Her voice faltered, and she took a deep breath, glancing at Charlie before continuing. “I’m not here to stop you. I just… I just wanted to say I understand. I don’t agree with it, but I understand why you’re doing this.”

You blinked, taken aback. Megan, the one who had spied on you, who had been so suspicious of your every move, was standing here, offering understanding. It felt surreal.

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” she added softly. “But if you’re really leaving, you need to go now. They’ll come looking for you.”

Charlie’s hand found yours, squeezing it tightly. You felt a rush of gratitude toward Megan, despite everything that had happened between you. Her warning, her silence—it was an unexpected act of kindness.

“Thank you,” you whispered, the words feeling heavy with meaning.

She nodded once, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before she turned and left, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

You turned to Charlie, your breath catching in your throat. “It’s time.”

He nodded, his jaw set, determination burning in his eyes. “Let’s go.”

Together, you walked out of the room, leaving behind the life you had known, the vows you had once believed in, and the future you had thought was certain. The church, once towering and holy, now felt like a distant memory as you stepped into the world beyond its gates.

You didn’t know what would come next—where you would go or what you would do—but with Charlie by your side, the fear didn’t seem quite as overwhelming. You had each other. And for now, that was enough.

EPILOGUE

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow across the rolling hills and fields that stretched beyond your front porch. The house you now called home sat nestled against a small grove of trees, a place you’d never imagined, yet somehow felt destined to find.

A soft breeze rustled through the open windows, carrying with it the distant laughter of children playing in the yard. You smiled, leaning against the wooden railing as you watched them—a picture of the life you had once dreamed of, now fully realized.

Two little girls, their dark curls bouncing in the breeze, were chasing after their younger brother, their giggles filling the air. They were so full of energy, so full of life. The kind of life you had longed for back when everything felt so suffocating, back when the idea of having a family seemed distant and impossible.

Behind you, the front door creaked open, and Charlie stepped out, two mugs of tea in his hands. His face, though older and more weathered now, still held that same softness that had always drawn you to him. He passed you a cup and wrapped an arm around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watched the scene unfold before you.

You smiled, leaning into him, your heart swelling with contentment. This was the dream you had once shared with him, whispered between kisses when the future seemed so uncertain. But now, here it was—tangible, real. Your two daughters, as spirited and wild as you had imagined, and your son, a bundle of mischief with Charlie’s inquisitive nature.

You stood there in comfortable silence, watching as your eldest, a curious seven-year-old, tried to corral her younger siblings with all the seriousness of someone far beyond her years. The younger girl, barely five, kept bursting into fits of giggles, while your three-year-old son—always a handful—tumbled into the grass, quickly distracted by the dogs.

It was a far cry from the life you had left behind, from the cold stone walls of the church and the whispers of judgment. You had built this life together—away from the suffocating expectations, the prying eyes, and the fear. Out here, in this open space, you were free to be who you truly were, without shame, without fear of punishment.

Charlie turned his head slightly, brushing his lips against your cheek. “You’re happy?”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with so much love it almost hurt. “I am,” you whispered, reaching up to touch his face. “I really am.”

He smiled, his eyes softening in the way they always did when he looked at you—filled with a love that had only grown stronger over the years. You still had your moments of doubt, of course—those nights when the past crept in, when the memory of everything you’d left behind tugged at your mind. But then you would look at him, at the children you had brought into the world, and it would all disappear.

Charlie pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as the children’s laughter echoed through the evening air. The weight of the past had faded into something distant, something that didn’t define you anymore.

This was your future now—a family, a home filled with love and laughter. You had chosen this life, together, and it was better than any dream you had ever dared to hope for.

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, your eldest daughter ran up to you, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Mama! Look what we found!”

She held up a small flower she had picked from the yard, and you crouched down to examine it, your heart swelling with pride at her joy over such a simple thing.

“It’s beautiful,” you told her, smoothing back a stray curl from her face.

She beamed, darting off again to join her siblings, and you stood back up, feeling Charlie’s presence beside you, steady and strong.

“Two daughters, a son, and two dogs,” he repeated softly, his voice filled with that same awe he always carried when he talked about your family. “You’ve always had the best dreams.”

You leaned into him, your fingers intertwined, as the last light of the day faded. “And you’ve always made them come true.”

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[darkbluekies]

A little game

Yandere!king oc x fem!reader

Summary: Edmund going insane when he finds you hurt and unconscious and swears to kill everyone in town.

Warnigns: behading, insanity, blood, guns, abuse, arson, everything like that

Word count: 2.3k

His eyes wander over your lifeless body. Numerous signs of brutal harm can be seen on your body. He can't even imagine what you've been put through, and when he tries he feels sick.

“Kill them all.”

His secretary widens his eyes.“But … your majesty-”

Edmund turns to him with eyes burning with rage. “Do I speak another language?!” he screams. “Kill them all! Every single one of them!”

Maids look at each other in fear, the secretary gulps. Edmund can feel his body tremble. He wants to grab the glass bottle on the bedside table, break it and plunge it deep into someone's, anyone's, heart. Wants to see blood, wants to kill. 

His hammering heart thumps in his ears. A chanting “kill them all, make them pay” repeats in his head, sounding better and better each time.

It all had happened so quickly, and yet so slow. You were kidnapped on a town visit and hurt by someone, badly. A knight had found you after hours of search lifeless in the forest, body torn and beaten. Edmund had thought that you had died. The few moments of uncertainty had felt like hours. Millions of thoughts had passed through his head. What would he do if you were dead? Could he live without you? Why did it hurt so much? Why couldn't he breathe? Was he dead too? Why was he alone again?

But now he was only angry. Someone had hurt you … and the entire town hid the truth, protected the culprit. Edmund didn't care who had done what, everyone was guilty. They are no individuals, only a herd of characterless peasants. And he hates them all.

He wants to touch your face, but he doesn’t dare to. He’s scared that if he touches you, he’s going to kill you. His touch is deadly. You’re already so fragile, so vulnerable. 

“Take families, one by one”, Edmund starts, still shaking, “and bring them here.”

“What are you going to do, your majesty?” the secretary asks, sounding worried. 

“Give this castle a fucking paintjob.”

His hands are bloody — they’re never bloody. He never gets down and dirty, always watched. His heart is beating even quicker, but he can’t seem to get enough. He can’t get rid of the unimaginable anger he feels. It’s like a beast has taken control over his mind and soul and given him a new unclenched blood thirst. Every time he lets his fist make contact with a poor peasants body he sees your broken face in front of him. It makes him hit them more, with even more force. He enjoys it, he finds. 

“Your majesty, please!” the man he’s holding begs. “Please spare me, I’m sorry!”

“What are you sorry for?” Edmund questions harshly. “What can your filthy little peasant heart be sorry for, huh? Was it you who abused my wife?!”

“No! No, your majesty, I didn’t-”

His voice echoes across the court yard. “Then who did?! Who was it?! Who are you covering up for?!”

Before he has the time to answer, Edmund has thrown the man against the castle’s wall with such force that he cracks his skull open on the harsh, sharp stones. Blood splatter. Edmund’s heavy breaths are enough to cause his head to spin. He runs a bloody hand through his black hair. Bodies are lined up against the castle’s walls, stacked on top of each other.

Edmund turns to the knights standing a few meters away from him. 

“If no one fesses up I will kill the entire town!” he shouts. “Every single one!”

“Your majesty, if you kill everyone, who will you rule over?” a knight asks. 

In a swift motion, Edmund grabs a gun from the nearest knight and shoots him. 

“Does anyone else have idiotic questions?!” he screams, directing the gun around. “Huh?! Ask them now so we can get them over with!”

To show that he’s not kidding, he shoots a bullet straight up into the air. None of the knights answer. Edmund scoffs and throws the gun to the side. He catches a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the window and flinches. He didn’t need his mirror to let him know that he’s drenched in blood and sweat. The look inn his eyes is what is startled by. He looks … animalistic. There’s no humanity left in his ice blue eyes anymore. He can feel himself drift into insanity, but he can’t stop it — maybe he doesn't want to.

“Bring the next group”, he demands.

“They are fleeing into the woods, your majesty”, a knight says. 

“Then stop them?!”

“How, your majesty?”

He thinks for a moment. Head spinning, heart thumping in his ears, tast of blood in his mouth. 

“Burn it all down”, he decides. “Burn every possible way out. Burn them in, if necessary.”

The knights nod. Edmund turns back to the poor body on the bloody gravel and picks him up by the collar, carrying him to the others. 

“Isn’t it pretty? The color?”

His secretary tilts his head as he studies the flames in the distance. “I suppose so, but the smell is God awful.”

“Smells like victory to me.”

Edmund turns away from the window, eyes darting to all the things scattered all over the floor. His office is near destroyed. Things lay broken everywhere after his tantrums. He used to value his materialistic obsessions highly, but now they’re not worth a dime to him. Nothing is. Only you. He has to avenge you rightfully. 

“How is my darling doing?” he asks and gives the secretary a stern gaze. “You know to tell me the second she awakes, right? If you don’t, I will drag you out on the court yard and put you with the other bodies.”

“Of course, your majesty, I will come running right away”, the secretary answers. “You can rest assure. I won’t betray you. Besides, her skin is healing. You won’t have to see her grotesque marks.”

Edmund nods. “I want to see her now. To see if you are telling the truth.”

The secretary leads Edmund through the large, dark halls. The people passing him makes his blood boil. They haven’t done anything, but he’s ready to lash out in case anyone gives him a foul look. Anyone showing any signs of distrust need to be killed. Roughly. He will not be made a fool.

A maid opens the door to your shared chamber and Edmund walks over to the bed. For a few seconds, he doesn’t believe that it’s you sleeping under the white sheets. You look so awfully small in the big bed, so unbelievably broken. Your skin looks so weird compared to the white sheets … washed out, somehow. He hates it, absolutely despises it all. 

Edmund sits down on the side of the bed and takes your hand in his, sighing heavily at the state of you. Seeing your frail figure makes him even madder. Why aren’t you waking up? What have that creature done to you to make you look like this? His secretary was right, however, you seem to be doing a bit better. Your body heals. So why aren’t you waking up?

“I will punish them”, he whispers and kisses your forehead. It must be one of the sweetest gestures he has done since you disappeared and came back in whatever state you are in now. “I promise. I love you so much, my darling, I will make them pay.”

The guillotine is working over time. The blade is covered in blood, heads everywhere. Edmund has realized that all people about to be beheaded has either of three possible reactions. Pleading and crying, begging for forgiveness, and emotionless and accepting. He likes to guess who will have what reaction, and when he guesses right he gives himself a clap on the shoulder. He’s standing on the balcony, leaning forward against the railing with his arms resting on it. Smiling. It’s all a big game for him. Like how hurting you and covering up the deed is a big joke to them. But now he’s the hunter, and they’re the pray. They are the punchline in his joke. Not the other way around. His blood boils when he thinks about what the ones hurting you must have been thinking while performing such a merciless act. Were they thinking about him, about how mad he would be? Thinking: “we will have caused a reaction to form in him but he will not know who have done it”, in that case they were wrong. Everyone is punished for their stupid game.

“Please, please!” a woman screams, about to be beheaded. “I know who it was!”

Edmund freezes. 

“Wait!” he shouts to the man holding the rope controlling the blade. 

Edmund hurries down to the court yard and walks over to the woman with her head in the locked hole. He grabs her chin roughly, trying to direct her head up without luck. 

“Who was it?” Edmund spits. “Tell me their names.”

She seems to have lost all speaking ability when nearby Edmund. All color is drained off her face. She faints. Angrily, Edmund lets go of her chin, grabs the rope and lets the blade fall. Her head falls down on the gravel and rolls towards the others. No one says anything.

“Your majesty!” he hears his secretary shout. “The queen is awake!”  

Edmund feels his entire body go numb. He spins around, looking at the secretary in the doorway with large, shocked eyes. He runs after. 

You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake.

“Get out of my fucking way!” Edmund growls and shoved a maid into the wall when she tries opening the door for him.  

You’re laying in the bed, but your eyes are open! Edmund runs over and throws himself at you, hugging you tightly. You start to cry the second he wraps his arms around you and brings your face into his shoulder. He can’t believe that he’s holding you again, to feel your body tremble under his fingertips. He wants to cry. 

“It’s okay”, he whispers and caresses your hair as you sob against his neck. “Everything is okay, my dear. I’m here now, I will not let anything happen to you.”

He can feel his entire body relax. He has you back. Your shaking body feels so … alive. 

“Does it hurt?” he asks. 

You nod against his shoulder and try to pull back, out of his embrace. He doesn’t let you, he only moves you closer. What if you slip away when he lets you go?

“Not yet”, he whispers. “Stay with me a bit longer.”

His hands grab at you, trying to reassure himself that you are, indeed, alive. 

When he does let you go, your eyes are red with tears. He puts his hand on your cheek, wiping your tears carefully with his thumb. 

“I’m so sorry”, he mumbles and feels a stone in his throat. “I really am.”

“Your hand smells like blood …”, you whisper.

He becomes cold as your eyes start to widen in fear.  

“No, no, no!” he says quickly and grabs your face in his hands. “I will stop. Is that what you want? Hm? I-I’ll stop, I’ll show mercy to the ones left if you just give me the name of who … who hurt you. Okay? Please?

The name you give is one he’s familiar with. It’s suddenly clear why everyone wanted to shield the guilty one. His father is one of the richest men in the town. Edmund has yet to kill him. 

“I will take care of him”, he says. “Everything he did to you, I will do to him. I promise. Not more, not less.”

Your shaking hand takes his. Edmund gulps and lifts your intertwined to his lips and kisses. 

“I love you”, he whispers. 

“What is that?” you ask and point towards the forest.”Why is it so black?”

Edmund hesitates and hugs your other hand tighter. They have cleaned the entire court yard and scrubbed the walls so that you won’t have to see any of the horror that has occurred while you were unconscious, but he can’t replace the forest with a new one.

“A wildfire happened while you were unconscious”, he lies. “It was just fixed. Nothing to worry about.”

He continues to walk with you, hand in hand, through the large corridors. He’s on his way down to the dungeon where a certain someone is waiting for him. Edmund’s hands itch when he thinks about what he’s going to do to him. He can’t wait. 

You suddenly hug him. He flinches, but is quick to wrap his arms around you, to secure you against his body. You fit so well against him 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“Nothing”, you say, sounding shy. “Thank you for saving me. I think that I would be dead without you.”

“I would kill everyone in this world for you. You know that.”

But hearing you say ‘thank you’ to him, after everything hes done for — and towards — you causes his stomach to to fill with butterflies. He really would kill everyone for you. Over and over again. 

“I’ll have to leave you here”, he says as you reach the stairs down to the dungeon. “I have something to do. Will you wait for me here?”

“What are you going to do?” you ask hesitantly. 

Edmund smiles, showing off his teeth. “Play.”

[indulgentdaydream]

protective!jason hcs or blurb 🥰

Ok so I kinda touched on these in my latest fic but anyways i WILL elaborate bc those were just background

We all know that man is touch starved. We ALL know it.

We also all know he’s hesitant with sharing touch

It’s only once you both have been dating for a bit already, maybe three months in, that he really starts to show his protectiveness through his touch

Or at least when you notice it

He’s always at least holding your hand as you guys walk around Gotham. Depending on exactly whereabouts in Gotham is when he changes whether he’s between you and the road, or you and the alleyways.

You watched him change it up one time halfway through your shared walk, him letting go of your left hand, stepping behind you and around to grab your right instead.

“Oh? So you want me to get hit by a car and die?”

Jason only keeps his eyes on the passing buildings and the ones coming up, “The chance of that is much lower than somebody trying to mug you in this area, love.”

One day you’re both out at the bar together. He’s sitting on a stool behind you as you babble to oke of yours friends.

From over their shoulder, you see a man approaching, but don’t think anything of it.

Suddenly, you see the man stop in his tracks, freezing. You glance over at him. He looks terrified. He glances at you, his original target, then behind you again. He spins on his heel and walks back the way he came.

You look behind you, feeling Jason’s hand still resting on your hip. You almost feel a little scared yourself, seeing that killer glare that Jason’s pointing at the guy’s back.

He switches immediately the second he looks down to you, a soft smile and kind eyes, not a hint of the previous bloodlust a mere second ago. “What?” He asks, like watching his expression change wasn’t the biggest turn on in the world.

You’re sitting in your apartment at your desk typing away on your laptop. You’re trying to file your taxes, and Jason had come over to help you with it (surprisingly he knows how even though he’s still legally dead at this point and hasn’t had to pay any taxes. Ever.)

He had stood and was wondering around your room a bit while he waited for you to fill the next part out. You can hear shuffling, but you’re too focused to tune into it.

“Jay? What does this line mean?”

Jason grunts for a moment and you hear your window slide open.

You turn back around, “Jay?”

“One second.” He shuts your window again. You watch as he fiddles with the lock before easily sliding the window back open. He throws his hands in the air and looks at you. “How long have you lived here?”

You shrug, confused, “You helped me move in.”

Jason waves his hand through the air, “When?”

“Almost a year? Last November.”

Jason fiddles with the window again, slamming it back down, “This lock doesn’t work. You been sleeping in here and anyone could’ve just broken in?”

You shrug again, “I didn’t know it was broken! I don’t really lock my window often.”

Jason looks like he almost broke his neck by how fast his head whipped back to you, “You don’t lock your window????”

He finishes your taxes for you before he leaves, saying he’ll be back. Within the hour he’s knocking on your door again, a duffle bag in hand full of power tools, screws, and different assortments of heavy duty locks. He spends the rest of the night installing them.

A new one on your bedroom window that actually consisted of two different locks. A similar two on your kitchen window. Another three on your bedroom door itself. Then four on your front door.

As he leaned over your kitchen sink, screwing in the lock and blocking your way as you tried to make you both dinner.

“Is this really necessary?”

“I’m not having you practically open to every bad thing the city has to offer, love.”

“Then how are you going to come in through my window now?”

“I’ll learn to knock.”

That’s all I can think of right now okay byeee

[ellecdc]

Hi!! I love love love your Finnick fics. I saw your requests are open and thought I would try one!

I was thinking reader and Finnick reuniting in either District 13 or after in the capitol when the rebels have taken it over. It could be a separation due to an Annie situation or something different. No worries if this doesn’t sound interesting to you! 🤍

thanks for your request! I absolutely love the district 13 reunion trope, but I had never read one based in the Capitol before so I decided to give that one a try. I hope I did it justice!

Finnick Odair x fem!reader who he will always find [1.5k words]

CW: potentially ooc Finnick BUT I did it on purpose because I think his unyielding loyalty and sense of duty is what ultimately killed him so SUE ME for making him selfish just ONCE 😭, angst with a happy ending

Everything Finnick had endured and smiled through since his own Games back at merely 14 years old had been for the benefit of others. The only thing he has ever done for himself was survive his games; and that was more out of desperation and instinct than it was out of any sense of pride. He dressed for the Capitol, he performed for the Capitol, he sold himself to the Capitol in order to keep his family and loved ones safe, he showed up every year in order to give other children a fighting fucking chance to survive their own games, he agreed to protect the Mockingjay for the rebellion, he sacrificed his oldest and dearest friend for their cause and almost lost another. 

He did his best to make another district feel like home even though his heart had quite literally been ripped away from him, all for the benefit of the cause, and even joined their army. 

Today, Finnick had one thing he needed to do for himself. And anyone who found fault with that could, quite frankly, suck his dick. 

“Finnick?” Katniss asks, looking up from the electronic map on the Holo in front of her. “Were you listening?” 

Finnick watches Gale’s jaw tighten at his lack of attention and fights against an eyeroll of his own. That was yet another thing Finnick had been doing as of late: playing mediator for this godawful love triangle. 

“Uhm, listen,” Finnick starts, looking around at the faces of squad 451, “If I get the chance, I’ll meet back up with the rest of you at the president's mansion, okay?” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Gale starts, standing from his crouched position, prompting Finnick to do the same. “Like hell you’re taking off; the plan was to stick together.”

“The plan was to film propos; that plan has changed, and before I go any further, I have someone I need to find.” 

“Finnick…” Katniss starts, tone dripping with pity as she follows him when he takes a few steps backwards and away from the group. “Wait!”

“I’ve done my waiting, Katniss.”

“You can’t just leave!” She calls, prompting him to turn back towards her.

“You got Peeta back!” He nearly sobs, flinging an arm out towards said boy; slightly worse for wear yet still on his feet. “He’s a little broken but he’s in there, Katniss. And even if he wasn’t, at least you know he’s alive. I need to find my Peeta.”

Katniss lets out a sad sigh; eyes searching his face for any signs of hesitation. Finnick knew she’d find none. “She wasn’t with the others; what if she’s already gone?”

Gone. She meant dead. What if you were already dead?

“I would happily die next to her, Katniss. But I won’t die for a movement that means nothing if she’s not here with me.”

Finnick ignores the heat of tears lining his cheeks as he watches Katniss recall how she very nearly gave up on the entire cause herself when she found out Peeta had been taken by the Capitol from the arena. 

Well, Katniss referred to it as left behind, but Peeta was snatched; you were left behind. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

“Listen, we had little time to react; the moment came upon us faster than anyone anticipated and she was nowhere to be found, Odair. I looked; I searched for her, but Plutarch said we had to go.” Haymitch had explained to him.

“I protected YOUR MOCKINGJAY.” Finnick had screamed. “I protected her at the cost of Mags and Johanna. I protect Katniss, you protect my girl; that was the deal.”

“Finnick-”

“That was the deal, and you LEFT HER BEHIND!?” 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Finnick had gotten violent, and not on purpose. He had to be sedated for three days after that, and they considered doing it again after Peeta was aired by the capitol, but you and Johanna weren’t. He was sedated again after Peeta and Johanna were rescued from the Capitol, but you were not. 

He was officially back in your last known whereabouts. He didn’t know if he’d find you, but he had to look. 

“We…” Finnick starts as he takes a deep breath, wiping the tears from his face before turning his attention back to someone he had come to consider a friend. “We had somewhere…that we would meet. No one else knew of it, it was safe; if she’s here, I just-”

But Katniss simply nods. “You have to try.”

“I have to try.” He parrots.

Katniss’ eyes flicker between Finnick’s before she suddenly embraces him; the act seemingly shocking both Finnick and herself as he tentatively returns the embrace. 

“Be careful.”

Finnick tries to laugh as he pats her on the back before pulling away. “You be careful; you’re the one they’re all after.”

“We’ll see you out there?” She asks as he backs away. 

Finnick nods. “Look out for one another, yeah?” 

With one final wave - Peeta offering a cautious one of his own while everyone else (save Gale) waved back - Finnick began his journey to the last spot he could possibly hope for you to be.

You itched to leave; to look for him. He was here; after all these weeks he was actually here.

You’d managed to take off early on in the chaos and confusion following the arena being blown up; heart breaking yet simultaneously leaping at the sight of Plutarch’s hovercraft taking off without you, knowing they were going to go rescue your boy.

You let that knowledge be enough as you fought to put enough space between you and the peacekeepers tasked with finding you. 

You managed to overtake two of them, slipped into one of their uniforms and stole their weapons before going to the last place you could think that might possibly be safe; the last place you could think that Finnick might possibly find you. 

The radios you’d pilfered from the peacekeepers alerted you to rebel presence a few days ago, and it was later confirmed that a team including three victors - the Mockingjay, Peeta, and Finnick - were here. 

Here. 

You paced a hole in the floor as you considered your options. The city was large, dangerous, and you’d have to stay hidden; if he saw what appeared to be a peacekeeper approaching him, he’d have to kill you. 

But you could be sitting here indefinitely if you simply waited for him. What if he was in danger? What if he needed you? What if you could help?

Your spiralling was interrupted by a quiet knock on the makeshift door. 

There was a reasonable - perhaps hopeful - part of you that knew if it was a peacekeeper or other rebel forces, they wouldn’t have bothered knocking or alerting you to their presence. 

But years of violence and conflict found you pulling the neckguard of your stolen uniform over your mouth and nose - leaving your eyes and hair exposed - as you moved in the direction of the door with your weapon raised. 

Before you have a moment to react, the door swings open quickly and you are face to face - or, rather, gun to gun - with the love of your life. 

“Finnick?” You whisper, keeping your gun raised as Finnick lowers his own and looks at you with an expression mixed with grief and unadulterated relief. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He lets out with a soft sob, and your gun falls to the ground with a clatter as you throw yourself at him. 

He catches you; of course he catches you. 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You nearly sob as he lowers the two of you to the ground; overwhelmed with emotions, his legs give out on him as he keeps you pressed tight against his torso. “I can’t believe it. Oh my god.”

You’re nearly keening as you alternate between pressing as many kisses to Finnick’s lips, cheeks, jaw, head - anything you can get your lips on, really - sobbing, and nearly strangling him with the desperation of your embrace. 

“I found you, I found you” Finnick chants like a prayer. “I can’t believe I found you. Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You’re quickly shaking your head as you take hold of his face between your hands. “You don’t have to be sorry; you did exactly what you were supposed to.”

“They left you behind.” He cries. 

“They saved you.” 

He shakes his head but doesn’t argue, simply lowering his forehead to yours as his hands trail up and over your arms, sliding up your neck and then back down again as though he can’t help but touch every single part of you. 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You repeat again. “I can’t believe you found me.”

“I will always find you.” He insists, pulling your face from where you try shoving it into his neck only to hold it in front of him as he stares at you imploringly. “Do you hear me? I will always find you. I will always find you.” 

“I know, Finn.” You agree. “I know you will.”

[luveline]

Hey Jade!!! I was just wondering if you could do a soulmate au with Spencer please? Maybe something along the lines of those cheesy ones like the first words are tattooed on or they have the same tattoo idk, whatever you u feel like 😊

—Spencer meets his soulmate. You’re as lovely as he’s always pictured. fem, 1.3k

Someone will love me one day.

Spencer must think it a thousand times. When he has to put his mom in the sanitarium and he feels more alone than he ever has in his life, he knows one day someone will love him anyways. When he gets called ugly, too skinny, nerd, dork, and a handful of words that are even worse, he knows one day someone will say the opposite. He won’t be alone forever.

He was two when they appeared, dark black cursive words tucked against his pulse. Spencer felt ugly nearly every day of his life, wrong and weird, but the words on his wrist have never changed, ‘You’re so handsome I can’t believe it’s you.’

One day someone’s gonna look at him and see handsome.

Today, he feels pretty good. He’s back home in Washington, D.C., the grocery store he loves is open again after a long reconstruction, and they had a bunch of fruit from South America that he’s never tried before. He carries a white plastic bag full of fruit, bread and cheese back to his apartment, each step in the sunshine, the kiss of it warming his cheeks. A busker plays music near the mouth of the subway station. Nobody has yet to scowl at him for being in the way.

He’s wondering what he forgot when he sees you. You’re smiling, the sun on your face and arms, which are strangely full. Books slide against your chest, but besides a little huff and a shift of your elbow, you don’t seem to notice the slim paperback working its way through the crowd in your arms. It drops down onto the sidewalk but you keep walking. You must be in a hurry.

Spencer darts forward to your dropped book, thumb under the title. Charlotte’s Web by E. B White. The spine is flaking and soft from use.

He should call out for you. You’re already getting too far away.

Spencer crosses the road and dives deeper into the city with you. Washington, D.C. isn’t without grandeur —it’s the capital of the USA— and so he finds himself surrounded by potted trees and stretches of well tended grass. School’s broken for the day, children weaving around on bikes and scooters or holding hands with their parents taking up altogether too much space. He loses you in the crowd.

Spencer stops in defeat.

Maybe if he puts the book back in your path you’ll see it on the way back.

He’s not sure why he doesn’t. Spencer keeps your book and starts to walk home. This isn’t how he’d usually get there, but he can manoeuvre around the park.

He keeps an eye out for you. Ridiculously, he’d thought about giving the book back to you and making you smile. He hasn’t talked to anyone who wasn’t a cashier in two days.

“Hi.”

Spencer looks down. “Hi,” he says, spooked by the little girl in front of him.

“Is that for the library?”

He shakes his head regretfully. “No, I– I found it. I’m trying to give it back.”

“Okie dokie. I never read that one before.”

“I’m sorry, it’s not my book to give away… Where’s your mom?”

The little girl points at a mom and a younger child playing on the grass near a circle of benches. There’s a huge dark cabinet with its doors skewed open in the middle, and when he squints he realises it’s full of books. “Oh, is that the library?” he asks.

“Yes!” the little girl insists.

“Okay, well, here’s what we’ll do,” he says, looking desperately for you, disappointed when he can’t see a sign of your nice blue shirt or your sunny smile, “let me go see if I can find the lady who dropped this book, and if she says it’s okay, I’ll keep it for you to have. But you can’t run off from your mom again. Deal?”

The girl grins, thick hair shiny in the sun. “Deal!” she says, running in a burst toward her mother, who startles when she realises she’d left in the first place.

Spencer creeps toward the library. He can’t leave the book here now, he’s promised he’ll try to find you.

You come around the back of the library cabinet with a smile. Free Library, the sign says. Take one if you want, leave one if you can.

You stop in your path when you see him. You smile again, you’re prettier for it, lovely with the sun on half your face, your slight squint. You open your mouth to speak.

Spencer beats you to it. “Hi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you,” he says, raising your copy of Charlotte’s Web to his chest. “You dropped one of your books.”

You take a half step back.

Spencer grimaces. “I promised a little girl I’d ask if she can have it, I’m so sorry. I get stuck and I don’t know how to say no.”

Your eyes flash down to your hands. “You’re so handsome,” you say, and Spencer’s heart stops dead in his chest, your lips shaping each word without measure and somehow the prettiest anyone’s ever looked as they move, “I can’t believe it’s you.”

His shoulders sag with a deep breath.

You raise your arm to show him the contrasting font laid against your pulse. Hi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you.

Spencer shows you his. You’re so handsome, I can’t believe it’s you.

“It’s you,” he says.

You press your hand to your mouth. “I was walking too fast, right? When I was a kid I thought if I made everybody chase me that eventually somebody would have to say it, but then it stuck, and I rush everywhere I go.” Your voice turns breathless. “But you’re the person who was supposed to catch up to me.”

He smiles softly. “I think so.”

“And I just told you you’re handsome. I’m sorry, I bet that was embarrassing to… carry around, all this time.”

“It’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me,” he says honestly.

“I didn’t think you’d be so pretty,” you explain.

“I knew you would be.”

You hold your hand out. He’s about to tell you he doesn’t shake but he finds he really wants to, and you’re not shaking his hand anyways, you’re holding it, looking at the cursive on his arm with a disbelief he echoes in his own smile. You rub the tip of your thumb over the word handsome.

“Do you like books?” he asks.

You nod distractedly. “I love them,” you murmur, looking up.

His entire arm is alive with tingles.

“Do you read much?” you ask.

Every word you trade with one another has this shy longing he’s never felt, like you’re desperate to know about one another but worried you aren’t allowed to ask. Spencer’s about to tell you all about it, how he’s always reading, how books have been with him through everything, but there’s a tug on his shirt that stops him.

“Hi,” the little girl says.

Spencer laughs. “Hi.”

“What did she say?” the little girl whispers.

Spencer looks to you for guidance.

“Of course you can have it. It’s an amazing book,” you say.

“Thank you!” she says, holding out her hands.

Spencer doesn’t mind handing it over. If she didn’t ask him for it earlier, he might’ve never had the courage to look for you. He could’ve left the book in the cabinet and turned around, but he didn’t. And now he’s met you.

You step into his side. “Did you– do you want to get coffee?” You peer down at the bag now slipped from his elbow down to his wrist. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Do you want to have a picnic with me?” he asks.

You nod for so long he has to laugh. “I’d love to,” you say, offering your open hand.

Spencer threads your fingers together. That one day he always dreamed of seems a lot closer than it did before.

[getosbigballsack]

Random thought!

But just imagine 35 years old CEO Gojo Satoru falling in love with the young woman whom he hired to be his surrogate.

Desperate at this point to fulfill his role as CEO and the heir of his family clan, he knew he had no other choice but to find someone who would be willing to give birth to his child.

He thought his ex-wife was the one. After all, she was pregnant when they were still together. When the due date came around and Satoru heard that she gave birth to a healthy baby boy, he was over the moon until he saw the baby for himself.

He knew that that wasn't his baby. Blonde hair and green eyes? No one in his family had blonde hair and green eyes. So he asked for a DNA test. His ex-wife refused at first, but then she gave in, and when the test came back, the baby was 99.99%, not his child.

He was broken. He served her divorce papers the following day, and after everything he had done for her, this is how she chose to repay him. As if cheating wasn't enough, she had to get pregnant and gave birth to another man’s child.

So now here he is sitting in a cafe waiting for the surrogate.

...

You didn't have much of a choice. 26 years of age and still struggling to get your bachelor's degree just so that you could live a comfortable life and be financially stable.

But with the way things are right now, you knew that it was an impossible task to complete your final year. You could hardly manage to pay your school fee. You kept on getting rejection letters from student loans, and let's face it, you barely had time to study to even try to get a scholarship.

So now you're stuck looking for a quick and easy way to make money. You had little options, and prostitution just so happened to be one of them. And you almost turned to it, that's until you heard that a "rich" CEO was looking for a woman who was willing to give birth to his heir.

So now that's how you ended up in the situation to you're in currently. Nervously playing with your fingers as sat across from no other than Gojo Satoru.

"Your name is Y/N?"

"Yes, and you're Mr. Gojo Satoru."

He shook his head yes while taking a sip of his coffee. "I hope you don't mind meeting like this. I thought it would be better to meet in a more casual setting instead of my office. I don't want to intimidate you."

"That's fine, Mr. Gojo."

"Before we get started, are you sure you want to do this? I want you to be absolutely sure because once you sign the contract, there is no backing out of it."

You shook your head yes before responding, "it's something that I've thought about deeply, Mr. Gojo, and after reading through the contract a few times, I came to the conclusion that I would rather have a baby for a stranger who is willing pay to me more than what my school fee is worth than go and become a prostitute."

He was shocked by your words but said nothing of it. It wasn't his place to say anything or have any comment about your personal life.

"Well then, I guess we can go ahead and meet with our lawyers and sign the contract."

"Lawyers? I thought... I can't afford a lawyer right now," you said to him.

He chuckled, "I figured that that would be the case. No worries, I had already hired a lawyer for you."

"You did?" You asked. Just then, the door to the cafe burst opened, and in came a man and a woman dressed in suits.

"Ah, there they are. Right on time."

Gojo stood up and greeted the lawyers before he introduced you to them. The man, Mr. Nanami Kento is his lawyer, and the woman Tetsu Akari is your lawyer. First impression she has a kind and calm aura around her.

But let's move down the line.

You four all sat and discussed what was on the contract, and before you signed it, Gojo asked, "Is there anything that you need to clarify before signing the contract."

"Yes, uhm, it's about the procedure. Are we going to uhm... have... uhm intercourse to conceive the baby?"

"We could since it's the safe way to go about this, but no," he answered with a small smile on his face.

"Ok then, where do I sign."

This is the beginning of how Gojo Satoru fell in love with the woman he hired to be his surrogate.

[jeonjaemark]

advent calendar || jeon wonwoo

content warning: none || masterlist

“do you feel better now?” i whined, looking down at him.

“no, i still need to recharge.” wonwoo singsongs, snuggles deeper into me.

i roll my eyes out of annoyance when i noticed my abandoned book left on the other side of his bed. for the past ten minutes wonwoo and i have been entangled with one another since he got eliminated from his current game. he didn’t care to announce himself or do anything but interrupt my reading and cuddle with me.

wonwoo tightens his arms around my waist. if i wasn’t in the middle of reading the chapter where asher ditched his big soccer match for scarlett, i would actually be happy to cuddle with wonwoo, but right now i wanted to strangle him.

“how’s your book?”

“do.not.ask.me.that.question.” my voice simmering with quite rage. i glare into his brown eyes as he smiles up at me with pleasure.

“someone opened her book the wrong way today.” he singsongs teasingly.

“someone will end up with a broken arm if they don’t untangle themselves and let me finish the chapter i am reading.” i deadpan.

he chuckles burying his face into me, “cute.”

“you know if i didn’t know you two, i would assume you’re dating.” mingyu chimes from the doorway.

wonwoo and i exchange a brief eye contact. something sparks between us but we both look away before either of us could say something.

“i thought you left already?” wonwoo’s voice softly.

“i am just leaving but i wanted to stop by your room real quick to see my favorite couple.”

“we are not a couple.” i spat.

“then why are you wearing wonwoo’s hoodie in wonwoo’s bed cuddling with wonwoo? you know you two look quite comfortable. all he has to do is lean up and wonwoo can kiss you.” mingyu teases.

i glance down at my outfit and feel my body start to go warm feeling flustered. mingnth did have a point but he never lets me breathe without joking about how wonwoo and i are couple or could be couple. honestly i would be lying if i said i don’t think about wonwoo and i being more than friends because i do. moments like this where we are cuddling in his bed and he teases me about the current book i am reading and the lines of couple and friend blur. i mentally smack myself from spiraling deeper into thoughts and look back at mingyu.

“just get out of here and go on your gym date with dino.” i scoffed.

“being kicked out of my own house by my best friend’s best friend, that’s new.” his voice dripping with sarcasm. he sticks his tongue out me, “let me know if anything changes between you since i am the other half that lives here too. i would like an advance warning before everyone else.”

i reach for wonwoo’s pillow launching in his directions but mingyu misses my hit when closes the door. wonwoo laughs walking back to his computer.

“you know he only does that to get a rise out of you, right? you always cave into his attention.”

“yeah, i know. i gotta throw him a bone every now and then otherwise i have no one to go back and forth with.” i giggled, falling back further into wonwoo’s bed.

i reach over for my book getting lost in the pages. wonwoo groans stretching out his body before heading down the hall for the restroom. i set my book down too taking my annual stretch. when i stretch my arms my fingers reach a thin silky paper under his other pillows.

christmas wrapping paper. wonwoo must have been wrapping gifts before i arrived. i reach for my book again trying to read but it didn’t last very long. my mind kept wandering back to the gifts wonwoo could have wrapped.

who’s gift was it? what did he get? how many gifts did this person get? did he spend all year saving up for it? did it cost him a fortune?

i push myself off the bed and went straight to rummaging through his closet. luckily his clothes were all neatly folded which made it easier to skim through the different drawers and cubes. each slam of the cubes or drawers lead to dead end. i skim through the top shelf of his closet hoping to find a wrapped gift.

“where is it? where is it?” i thought to myself.

“what do you think you’re doing?” wonwoo voice echoes

“i am definitely not snooping or trying to find my christmas gift from you.” i deadpan, turning around at the sound of his voice. “i was just looking for my shirt that i left here last time.

“ it’s still in the hamper. haven’t done laundry yet.” he says watching me carefully.

i peer behind him noticing the wrapping paper near his desk. if wonwoo suspicious of me snooping he did a good job pretending to not notice.

he leans down to his desk and taps his fingers onto his keyboard, his voice cool and calm, “i didn’t wrap your christmas presents yet.”

my body freezes in place and i turn to look at him as warmth floods my cheeks. he knows. i have been caught. a teasing grin forms at his lips making me want to smack him or kiss him. i shudder at the latter walking back to his bed. there is no point in further searching.

wonwoo falls quiet except for talking into his headset with his other team mates. other than that his fingers did most of the work. there was something comforting and relaxing when i heard the the clicks of wonwoo’s keyboard. usually i have my headphones on when i read because the clicking can be distracting but most times when i am not reading i love listening to the sound. i don’t even realize i have doze off in his bed until i wake up an hour later. i reach my hand out over my body realizing wonwoo had put a blanket on me while i was napping.

“hey sleepyhead, are you fully awake now?” wonwoo asked, from his computer.

i groan nodding my head at him. he glances between his monitor and screen to look at me giggling to himself. he doesn’t walk over to me right away. he gives me some time to fully adjust to my surroundings and being awake. i ended up scrolling through my phone for a good ten minutes when he finally stood up and shuts off his computer.

“i have a little surprise for you.” he tells me. “you have to close your eyes first.”

i furrow my eyebrows together curiously, staring at him. wonwoo doesn’t move. he waits for me to close my eyes. i cover my hands over my eyes when i hear shuffling and wonwoo repeatedly reminding me to not peek and keep my eyes covered. each reminder he gave me, i would respond to saying that i am covering my eyes and not peeking.

the bed dips underneath me as he takes a seat next to me. his breath heavy and warm near my skin. if i move my hand to his chest, i swear i could feel his pulse racing like mine.

“okay open your eyes.” his voice mixed with excitement and nerves.

i flutter my eyes open adjusting to my surroundings again. wonwoo holds a giant white woven basket decorated with purple and blue ribbons in the handle. the basket filled with multiple prettily wrapped rectangles covered in snowflakes. i noticed the giant words on the front of the basket reading ‘bookvent calendar”.

“oh my god! jeon wonwoo, what did you do?” i try my best to suppress my smile, skimming through each wrapped book.

“i made you a book advent calendar.” he swipes his hand over the basket.

“yes, i can see that but how?”

my heart bursts with excitement skimming through each carefully wrapped book labeled with a number. i noticed a little card attached to the first book and opened it.

welcome to your annual december book advent christmas calendar. open one book each day according to the date up until christmas eve. enjoy, my favorite book reader. (p.s you have to record your reaction to opening each book you open)

- love your favorite gamer

wonwoo goes into explaining how he thought of the idea. how he kept tabs on the books i have read already, what books i talked about wanting to read, and the different types of special editions to my favorite series. every time i talked with him he was able to narrow down his selection to the books he has wrapped in the basket. the way his eyes light up when talking about how the idea came to him and the way his smile only grew bigger and bigger while he explained. something warm and fuzzy floods through my vein making it hard to breathe properly.

“i know how much you love reading and how happy it makes you. plus i know when you a book becomes your favorite because you can yap for hours about it or if you didn’t like it then i will never hear you talk about it after the first read.” he smiles. “sometimes when i am playing my games on my computer and i see you reacting to your books, i will either pause my game or just lose just to watch your reaction cause —“

there haven’t been many moments in my life where i was genuinely left speechless and giddy. this is one of those rare moments. to hear wonwoo confess that he loves when i talk about my books to him and how he likes seeing my reactions to them left a warm and giddy feeling. i wanted to sob on the spot over how attentive he is to me. no one in the world would have thought to have done this for me but he did this for me.

“your silence scares me a little. what do you think?” his voice concerned, staring back at me.

“i think i just fell more in love with you.” i mumbled. it took me a second to realize my words and see wonwoo’s eyes widen in shock. “i-i mean…”

“you’re in love with me?” he asked. a hint of amusement in his voice.

“i-i was talking about the books.” i clarified. “how i am in love with the books that you’ve gotten to me.”

he raises an eyebrow, “you don’t even know which books i got you yet.”

“true but that doesn’t mean i can’t be more in love with them.” i straighten my shoulders, exhaling and inhaling slowly to calm my racing pulse.

“can i ask you something?”

i nod.

“you have read so many romance books, if you could write one about us, what trope would you give us? forced proximity? friends to lovers?” he glances at me knowingly.

“you’re not going to let this one go, are you?”

he shakes his head amused, “not until you’re ready to confess what we both heard.”

the corners of my lips rise, “i am in love with jeon wonwoo and this book advent calendar confirmed it even more for me.”

“since you’re so in —-“

“i did not say so in love.” i spat defensively, shoving his shoulders.

“okay, since you’re in love with me, how about i pick you up for dinner on wednesday?” he grins.

“this feels like you’re just teasing me.” i giggled embarrassed.

“i have no ill intentions wanting to pursue you. i believe someone said earlier that if they didn’t know us, they would’ve assumed we were dating and honestly i have been thinking about us and dating for the last few months now.”

“so why say something now?” i questioned.

“cause the girl i am in love with just confessed she has mutual feelings for me too.” his voice soft and warm, making me smirk.